Unexpected Fear

After my dad was in the hospital for some time recuperating from the accident that severely mangled his left leg, my mother thought it was time for me to visit. At first I didn't think much about it, but when it came time to actually go to the hospital, I became extremely nervous. It all of a sudden hit me that I hadn't step foot in a hospital since God healed me of perthes disease.

On the drive there, I was very quiet sitting in the back seat, trying inwardly to battle my fears, but being unsuccessful. As soon as I entered the hospital doors, I smelt that familiar smell that I thought I had forgotten. I became nauseous, fighting the desire to turn and flee. It took all my strength to continue following my family, who were unaware of my struggle. Then when I entered the room with those familiar white walls and saw my dad lying in that familiar hospital bed with those familiar white sheets, all the memories of my past came flooding back. My mind couldn't take it all at once. Everything turned black. I couldn't see anything. All I knew was that I had to get out of there! I was by the doorway, so I went out into the hallway and rolled against the walls, until I collapsed. None of my family had noticed except for my sister-in-law. The next thing I knew I was being helped up my an orderly to sit in a chair with my head between my knees. My sister-in-law was beside me talking to me. I was embarrassed. My family thought I passed out upon seeing my dad after the accident, but that wasn't the reason. I had to for the first time deal with my fear of hospitals as a result of my negative childhood experiences.

The most traumatic childhood experience of staying in the children's hospital ward was the night I lost my friend who stayed in the bed beside me. He was around my age, about six years old, and had leukemia. I was too young to know that he was dying. The boy was gentle and easy to talk to. He made staying at the hospital more pleasant, since it is a lonely and depressing place to be. Then in the middle of one night, he died. After they took my friend away, I became hysterical, screaming, "I hate hospitals! I hate doctors! I hate nurses! Get me out of here!" I was soon tranquilized, but the memory was not forgotten. That was when fear entered the heart of a young child and it was never exposed until I was sixteen years old visiting my dad in the hospital.

I praise God that one day I will meet again that precious boy who died beside me. He was not in the arms of any family member at the time of his death. I was the closest human being to him when he died. However, I know with certainty that when he died, he went into the loving arms of His Heavenly Father.

The Bible indicates quite clearly that when babies and children die they will go to Heaven.

"Jesus said, 'Let the little children come to me, and do not

hinder them, for the Kingdom of Heaven

belongs to such as these."

Matthew 19:14

Once I was able to grasp the reality of this verse, I was able to overcome my fear.

Isn't it good to know that all babies and young children who die are with God in Heaven? That means all those unwanted babies who are tragically aborted are wanted and loved by God.

When I look up into the sky, I cannot help but think about Heaven. I try to imagine what it is like and who I will again get to see one day.