A few weeks ago in the music fellowship portion of my Sunday church service, one of the young singers during an instrumental passage in a very animated song, about turning to God,  spoke the question “Do you recall a time when you were at your lowest?”

My mind instantly went to a moment in my life when I felt I had nothing left. My 30 year career in broadcasting had ended. So had my 20 year marriage.  I had lost the beautiful home of my dreams after a debilitating auto accident. My brain was not working well. I had no ability to remember things. My entire body had limited mobility and constant pain. I had a shrieking sound, tinnitus, so loud in one ear that I could not sleep. I had lost the support system I once had in place. I ultimately lost my home.

I had been raising my younger daughter as a single parent. I had no choice but to send her far away to live with my older sister on the west coast, for what was arranged to be the rest of her life.  My daughter would call me many nights, desperately begging to come home. I had not the finances, the mental acuity, or the physical mobility to care for my pre-teen daughter in the new low rent neighborhood I had been forced to move to.

The social circle which had bolstered my sense of worth had evaporated when the money ran out. My ex-wife and older daughter maintained such a venomous vested interest in siding against me after they had left me, they never came to visit when I was recuperating from my injuries. Depending on county health services had only provided the minimum of care. Medications I had been taking for the incessant chronic migraine headaches and depression were suddenly no longer funded.

While it wasn’t the dire sense of failure as a husband, father and provider that took me to my lowest point, it certainly contributed.  It was more the constant physical pain; from which there seemed no escape, that pushed me over the edge.

I never wanted to die. In fact, I can vividly recall while laying, pinned in the twisted vehicle, in a calm moment while others were being tended to, I had prayed to God, “Take me now. No one was watching.”  Though I never actually heard His voice, his answer was a very quick, loud and clear, “Fat chance, I am not done with you there.”

In the moment I was amused that he would even venture to use such word to respond. But that was what I was allowed to learn that day about my purpose on the planet. Even though I would go on to doubt the message.

Let me be clear. I didn’t want to die. I have had many powerful emotional challenges in my life, almost since birth. Through the years I have embraced counselling and successfully slain many emotional dragons. I tend to be a survivor. I have battled depression most of my adult life. This was not that kind of despondence or sadness. I have battled those for years.

I was simply done. There seemed to be nothing left of me. I was literally at my wits end. I just wanted to sleep. I wanted the physical and emotional pain to stop. I felt I had nothing left to work with and nothing left to give. I simply wanted to lay down and make it all stop. The memory loss, the headaches, the intense physical pain, the constant shrieking in my ear, the desperate pleas of my daughter needing me when I could no longer provide. This after years of promising my kids, “Daddy can fix anything.” All of it needed to just go away. I had nothing left.

Gulping large quantities of pain medications then waking up several days later with emergency folks surrounding my bed, I recall the devastating disappointment of realizing, “Damn, it hadn’t worked! I am still here.” God was right. For some seemingly insane reason, he was not done with me here. And he was winning this round.

A young lady, my dear and cherished friend who was living thousands of miles away as she finished her veterinary internship, heard of my plight.  She made the trek down to visit me. She walked me through the systems I would need to begin my recovery. She held me every night, two large people in PJ’s in a small full-sized bed. I would awaken each night at 3 AM drenched in sweat, shaking with full-blown panic attacks and an anxiety I had never know before. She would wordlessly towel me down and hold me. Comforting me and caring for me.

This angel, had always known me as a strong confident man. I had always been someone who had guided her from afar for the most part, since she began her long journey as a veterinary student. Now, here I was, with no short-term memory. Acute physical and mental limitations. I was all but a basket case, but still with a sense of humor about it all. There was no telling what abilities if any I would ever be able to recover at that point. It had to be so scary for her. I had always told her that when facing challenges in her life to “Transcend”. Rise above.  We do not get scripts or instruction sheets for these sorts of challenges. But she rose above. She instantly put her own very demanding life on pause, to help me get to places and fill out government forms and put a plan of action together with the scraps of me that were left. She did not leave until she knew I was going to be okay.

I was at my lowest. And in that moment, God sent me an angel. I have recovered for the most part. I made a commitment to my sister (also one of my angels) to never seek such a path again. I built a second career helping people with hearing loss, from which I have just retired. I have gotten to embrace both my daughters and their children and hopefully have made a positive difference in their lives. Two years later my younger daughter came back to live with me and one Father’s Day gifted me with a home-made poster. It does not say “Daddy can fix anything.” But it is another saying I was often heard teaching my kids. “Don’t Cry, Just Try”. She had learned not just by my words but from watching me wrestle with my own challenges, no matter what, you cannot give up. God is not done with me here.  I just couldn’t see it at the time.

My daughter is married now. She and I attend church from time to time. It is important time. I know I will not always be here for her, but I am right now. And I know the faith we are sharing now will be with her when I am called home.

I have had many angels in my life. So many people I am grateful for. As I am “rounding third and heading for home” at this point in my life, I am embracing all that I can. I am looking back and seeing how it all came together and discovering more of what it all means and who was and is important. But when that question came up in the middle of my worship Sunday morning, I realized I may have not ever said thank you to an angel on earth who was here at the point I was at my lowest.

Miss Bentley, you and I never discussed faith much in the years we were close. But without question, God worked through you to dust me off and get me going again, when it seemed I had nothing and no one left.

It has been more than 15 years, since that time. I know you have had your own challenges since then.

I can never fully express how deeply I appreciate you having been there for me. You did not abandon me when I was at my lowest.  You are my hero. You are one of my angels. You are truly a blessing.

Thank you. May God always bless you.

And thank you Lord for working through her.

J