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First Posted: 11/21/2014
By Jim Wiemers
Dorsey, Illinois
We had a nice Christmas in 2007, despite dealing with Mom’s broken hip six months earlier. Dad tried to care for Mom the best he knew how and refused my suggestion for bringing outside help into our home. I did the best I could, too, taking care of both of them while working in St. Louis everyday.
Then, on January 14, 2008, while finishing lunch at work, I got an unexpected phone call. My sister-in-law was in tears as she tried to tell me the news. I immediately thought something happened to Mom, but no, I was told that Dad had a massive heart attack and died while working in the basement. Mom had been on the living room sofa and heard the commotion in the basement.
She couldn’t walk but crawled over to the basement door and heard my dad groaning. It was approximately nine o’clock in the morning, and she was on the floor between the basement and the breezeway doors. She couldn’t reach the telephone on the wall. She could have been stranded there all day until I came home from work in the evening. But that’s when the miracles started to happen.
My mother could often be a worry wart and anxious soul, but that day I believe God took control of her mind and gave her peace. As she sat on the floor, she thought that perhaps the mailman would come to the breezeway and drop off the mail that day, then she could try to get his attention. Well, the mailman would never come to the door unless he had a package to deliver. Occasionally, I did get packages on Mondays; and as it turned out, this was a Monday and I did get a package delivered to the door.
As the mailman opened the door to the breezeway, Mom banged on the kitchen door. The door was not locked, and the mailman opened it and found Mom lying on the floor. She told him to go into the basement and check on Dad. When he got there, he knew it was too late. He immediately called our post office and 911. Miracle one.
At the post office the manager knew our family well and where we went to church. She called our minister, thinking he would want to rush over to the house to be with Mom. Unknown to her was that Mondays were our minister’s day off. He was finishing breakfast and getting ready to leave with his wife to go shopping when a certain feeling came over him. He told his wife, “I am going to go over to the office, just to make sure everything is okay before we leave.” As he walked into the office, the secretary was just getting off the phone with the post office. She exclaimed, “Irwin Wiemers just died.” Pastor immediately went over to our home to be with Mom. Miracle two.
When I received the emergency phone call, God gave me the same kind of peace that He had given Mom. My co-workers offered to ride home with me, but I said I would be okay. They prayed with me before I left. As I got into my car, I turned on a religious radio station I listened to regularly. The on-air minister said, “We are going to take a break now, but when we come back we’re going to discuss why Christians need not fear temporal death.” All the way home I heard soothing dialogue and hymns to comfort me. I think the crowd gathered at home when I arrived were shocked to see how calm I was. Miracle three.
The mailman coming to my mother’s rescue so soon after the tragedy; the pastor’s feeling he should check in at his office on his day off; the comforting radio message on my way home—were those all coincidences? No one can convince me of that. I had to ask myself, why did God allow me to benefit from all these miracles? The thing that keeps popping into my mind is that He wanted me to use this as a witness to His love and goodness. God knows that I can be a big-mouth, and I certainly have no problem telling of His greatness.
I cannot promise that God will work this way in other people’s lives, but I am sure that He is with those who turn to Him in faith. That is what I believe. That is my hope.