“He performs wonders that cannot be fathomed, miracles that cannot be counted” (Job 5:9).
I almost died this week. That sounds like a drama queen, I know. But it’s true. Talia had asked me to come to her Bible study on Monday, and I was working with one of my reporters on new computer software, and all the sudden I realized it was time to go, so she scooted on home and I grabbed a handful of baby carrots to eat quickly before I left. About three or four carrots in, I got choked. I mean really choked. Tears immediately began to pour, and I couldn’t get my breath. I struggled and struggled and dialed 911. Right before I pushed the Call button, I tried to do the Heimlich on myself over the kitchen sink, and I began to vomit them up. What a relief! Wait. It didn’t open my airway. Still choked. That little flap in my throat was almost spasming, letting some carrots out and then closing back, like they were stuck in the flap and not allowing it to open or close. I struggled and struggled, alternating spitting some up and choking some more, tears pouring down my face.
I finally got myself in a shape I could talk and dialed Tom’s phone. He answers (thank God!), and I was able to get out, “Come home, I need you, I’m scared.” He says he wants to call 911 and I tell him I’m good, I just need him home. He got home in probably three minutes, and I just ran to his arms and cried and cried. I couldn’t stop. In all of my miracles, I don’t know that I have ever been that close to just being seconds away from death. As I was leaning over the sink, I’m thinking, “Okay, God, is this the way it’s going to go down, I’m going to die here at my sink with carrots hanging out my mouth?” There could be worse ways, I know.
I tell this story to say this was a pivotal event for me. I did not leave the house that night, but alternatively cried from joy and cried from fear and cried for no reason. I called my brother-in-law, Ken, who just had the lung transplant, because I know he had to do all these swallowing exercises that were so important in his treatment, and I knew he could relate to this. He sent me his exercises, and by golly, I’m either not going to eat so fast, or I’m going to be doing those exercises, because I don’t want to go down this road again.
Last night, I watched The Passion of the Christ, the Mel Gibson movie made many years ago. I remembered watching it in the theater, and as the beatings and the cruelty went on and on, I thought, “Will it never end? When is it going to stop? Why, why, why?” And last night’s showing was no different – I absolutely could not stand to watch probably half of the movie, but I felt I should force myself to so I remember the sacrifice and I don’t turn it into a trite little “Oh, Jesus shed his blood for me” that is so often said in church but we do not even think of what that may have looked like. The mobs and the hate that made no sense in this movie made me think of what our world looks like today. Our news is filled with killings and bombings and hate that has no reason, and the world today is still in a battle that began with the birth of one man who only lived 33 years and came to bring love and peace.
Never in the history of the world has there been a more pivotal event than the birth, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. I ask you today – do you need a change in your life? Do you have a hole inside of you that needs filling, or needs forgiven, or needs revived? Now is your time. Today can be that pivotal moment that changes your life – see, because Jesus changes us from the inside – and the world can’t do that – pills can’t do that – alcohol can’t do that – relationships can’t do that…..
All it takes is a prayer to the Lord that you believe in Him, that you want Him to forgive you of your sins – it’s free, and it brings freedom like you cannot imagine.
My name is Teresa Evans. I am a wife to Tom, a retired Circuit Judge, and I am a court reporter by trade, a mother by God's grace and a lover of Jesus Christ. I've grown up in a family blessed with many miracles, and have received multiple miracles myself.