Miracles in the ER Read Online Free PDF Page B

because of her that I’ve been clean for six months. And it’s because of her that I’m going to stay clean.”
    I searched his eyes and wanted to believe him. No, I did believe him.

Your Will—Not Mine
    Tuesday, 6:35 a.m. Lori slumped into a chair and folded her arms across her chest. She sat there for a moment then sighed and shook her head. “I need some help.”
    I glanced around the department and checked the patient ID board. The department was empty. Our shift was just beginning, and Virginia Granger and I had been sitting at the nurses’ station when Lori had walked over. We both looked at her and waited. It was rare for our “resident helper” to ask for help.
    Amy Connors, our unit secretary, walked up and deftly moved her chair back with one knee. She carefully set a cardboard container holding four steaming cups of coffee on the desktop and sat down. She had heard Lori’s words, and now turned to the nurse and said, “What’s up?”
    Lori sighed again. “It’s one of my closest friends, Kelly. We went to grade school and high school together. We were bridesmaids in each other’s weddings. A little over six months ago, Kelly found out her sister has ovarian cancer. Thirty-two years old, and the doctors told her nothing could be done. It was too far advanced.”
    “Wow, that’s quick,” Amy said quietly. “I’m sorry.”
    “It’s been hard on everybody,” Lori continued. “But especially Kelly. She was the older sister, the role model. Whenever her sister got hurt or got into trouble, Kelly was there to fix it.” She paused and looked down at the floor. “She can’t fix it this time.”
    We sat in silence for a moment, and I thought about this disease we call cancer— the “crab.” It comes in many forms, but not many more aggressive, merciless, or ruthless than ovarian cancer. The diagnosis is usually made at a point when the illness is long past being treatable.
    Virginia Granger rolled her chair closer to Lori and leaned forward. “What can we do?”
    Lori took a deep breath and looked at her head nurse.
    “Kelly has been crushed by this, and she called me last night in tears. She was angry.”
    “Anger is part of the process,” I interjected. “And it might be good if—”
    “There’s nothing good about it.” Lori glanced at me, her eyes wet with tears. “She’s mad at God for allowing this to happen. But more than that, she’s mad that he doesn’t answer their prayers about this. The whole family and their church have been in constant prayer since the diagnosis, and her sister just gets weaker every day, and the pain is getting worse, and she…”
    Lori’s voice broke and her head slumped to her chest.
    “And she called to ask you ‘Why?’ ” Virginia said gently. “You’ve been her big sister all these years, and she wants you to fix things, or at least explain them.”
    Lori sobbed and nodded.
    Silence again, except for Lori’s pained breaths. Amy handed her a box of Kleenex from the countertop.
    A minute or two passed and she looked up at us.
    “How do you answer that question? How do you begin to explain why God is not healing her sister? I don’t know what to tell her.”
    Virginia leaned back in her chair, crossed her legs, and began drumming the armrests with her long, slender fingers.
    Amy looked over at her and tilted her head to one side.
    The head nurse took a deep breath and the drumming stopped. “Lori, as sure as I’m sitting right here, I know the Lord doesn’t rejoice in our suffering. But in the ER there’s pain and heartache all around us—every day.” She paused but her eyes never left Lori’s. “The Lord is not blind to any of this.”
    Lori leaned forward in her chair. “But Kelly’s family—all of them—are Christians, followers of Jesus. And if their prayers aren’t answered, then…” Her voice was pleading, and it broke off again in soft sobs.
    “How do you know they aren’t being answered?” Virginia was peering over