A Brush With Death
Most folks have been snatched from the jaws of death more than once. The near miss head-on collision, the fall from a tree as a child, the near drowning, the almost fatal illness... You each have your own dramatic and wonderful stories of being saved when things could have gone the other way.
I seem to have had an above average number of these brushes with death, and yesterday's encounter was particularly scary. Those who know me well know I am deathly allergic to a few things, bees and wasps among them. If stung, I will quickly go into anaphylactic shock and die without almost immediate medical intervention. I have an epi-pen so I can give myself an emergency shot of epinephrin and buy 20 to 30 minutes to get to an ER somewhere.
I joyfully tended my herb garden yesterday, and when I was washing up I felt something lightly scratching the back of my neck. I thought it was the tag of my shirt and reached up to scratch. Praise God, somehow at the last moment I realized it was an insect and quickly brushed it away. Bear in mind I had not yet seen this thing. It did not fly, but sort of tumbled unto the bathroom sink counter and writhed a bit before righting itself and getting its bearings.
Had it merely been a bee or wasp, I would have simply smashed it, but the shock of seeing this thing glued me in place for a moment as if I needed more time to take it all in. There beside my sinkfull of sudsy water was a wasp-like creature at least two inches long. The Goliath of wasps. The black and yellow-orange abdomen was at least twice as long as the bronzed head and thorax combined. No, my fear has not given the creature larger than life proportions. After the initial shock, my curiosity took over and I studied the insect's form and movements. It seemed somewhat disoriented.
I was not then in severe danger of being stung. That vulnerability was when I knew not of its presence on my person. Had I slapped at it or scratched, I would have been stung, but brushing it quickly away saved the day... almost. When I returned to the room with wasp spray, the gargantuan insect was gone. Richard and I searched the house for it to no avail but he did find a mud dauber under Baby Snooks' dog bed.
We are still on the alert for superwasp but certainly not living in fear. I do need to find my epi-pen, though since it wasn't where I thought it was. Hmmm
Like you, I live on because the brushes with death eres just a reminder that I am mortal and He is my hope. Believe what you want, I believe God intervened, in your cases of salvation and mine. Of course, He does what He will whether we believe or not... He just does a whole lot more when we trustingly walk with Him. May He hold you in the palm of His hand... and may you let Him. He is, after all, a gentleman, and won't push Himself on you if you refuse Him... but He might still step in between you and the grim reaper now and then... but not forever.
I seem to have had an above average number of these brushes with death, and yesterday's encounter was particularly scary. Those who know me well know I am deathly allergic to a few things, bees and wasps among them. If stung, I will quickly go into anaphylactic shock and die without almost immediate medical intervention. I have an epi-pen so I can give myself an emergency shot of epinephrin and buy 20 to 30 minutes to get to an ER somewhere.
I joyfully tended my herb garden yesterday, and when I was washing up I felt something lightly scratching the back of my neck. I thought it was the tag of my shirt and reached up to scratch. Praise God, somehow at the last moment I realized it was an insect and quickly brushed it away. Bear in mind I had not yet seen this thing. It did not fly, but sort of tumbled unto the bathroom sink counter and writhed a bit before righting itself and getting its bearings.
Had it merely been a bee or wasp, I would have simply smashed it, but the shock of seeing this thing glued me in place for a moment as if I needed more time to take it all in. There beside my sinkfull of sudsy water was a wasp-like creature at least two inches long. The Goliath of wasps. The black and yellow-orange abdomen was at least twice as long as the bronzed head and thorax combined. No, my fear has not given the creature larger than life proportions. After the initial shock, my curiosity took over and I studied the insect's form and movements. It seemed somewhat disoriented.
I was not then in severe danger of being stung. That vulnerability was when I knew not of its presence on my person. Had I slapped at it or scratched, I would have been stung, but brushing it quickly away saved the day... almost. When I returned to the room with wasp spray, the gargantuan insect was gone. Richard and I searched the house for it to no avail but he did find a mud dauber under Baby Snooks' dog bed.
We are still on the alert for superwasp but certainly not living in fear. I do need to find my epi-pen, though since it wasn't where I thought it was. Hmmm
Like you, I live on because the brushes with death eres just a reminder that I am mortal and He is my hope. Believe what you want, I believe God intervened, in your cases of salvation and mine. Of course, He does what He will whether we believe or not... He just does a whole lot more when we trustingly walk with Him. May He hold you in the palm of His hand... and may you let Him. He is, after all, a gentleman, and won't push Himself on you if you refuse Him... but He might still step in between you and the grim reaper now and then... but not forever.
© 2006 by Iona Hoeppner
| 5:26 AM
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