Thursday, June 20, 2024

Safe in Daddy's Arms

I have a picture of my daddy holding me on the hood of an old GMC pickup.  I am not very old, still in a baby blanket, big round head and face, no hair and no teeth.  There is another picture of dad holding me on the back of a gigantic white workhorse named Babe.  This is on our fridge today.   I do not remember the old GMC, but I do remember daddy holding after sitting me on Babe’s back.

I remember dad holding me down in the Mr. Bratton’s barber chair when I was very small.  I remember this red faced, curly blonde-haired, and crying little boy in the mirror.  I was screaming because Mr. Bratton cut my ear and head.  Thinking back, he was probably trying to cut off my head.  I did not know it at the time, but momma was furious for cutting off her baby’s curls.  I hate haircuts to this day!

As a “little feller”, I was puny.  I had pneumonia when I was a couple years old.  I had stomach problems for a few years.  I remember taking some concoction for worms.  I had some issues with my kidneys and had a barrage of tests.  Illinois doctors said that my tonsils were causing some of my sickness.

Mom brought my sister and me back to Alabama where Dr. Joe Moore, the first person to slap me, and family doctor, could perform the surgery.  Mom took advantage of the Christmas Holidays, being home with family, and giving me a memorable sixth birthday.

I remember the scenes of the hospital.  The lights seemed dim and the halls dark.  Nurses had this small thorny bush decorated with different colored gumdrops.  There was a Christmas tree decorated with aluminum icicles and colored lights.  There was the ether-filled mask over my face.  The ceiling had these big chrome globes with bright lights hanging over the operating table.

I remember just like yesterday when they placed that screen meshed mask on my face.  I struggled to breathe.  I remember them holding me down as I felt like I was spiraling downward round and round.  I felt like I died.  I remember seeing a sign in my Aunt’s bedroom that had a saying about lying down to sleep and dying.  I did not know what death was like, but I felt like I was experiencing it.

Momma said when the hospital called a “code blue,” she knew it was for me.  Momma told me years later that they lost me, probably because I panicked.  Momma said she prayed as she never did before and suddenly I vomited and the doctors revived me.

I remember the falling sensation and seeing all kinds of demonic creatures.  I would learn later that the things I saw were things like artists captured on canvas centuries earlier.  The sad part about the whole ordeal was my sister, three years old, woke from her surgery wanting ice cream.  She would look at me and lick the ice cream.  The demons never bothered her.  I think I know why, but I rather not say.

I battled with extremely high fever for years.  My fever would be so high that momma would put ice or alcohol on me to cool the down.  Momma feared that the high fever would affect my brain.  Some will say it did!

On more than one occasion, when I ran a high fever, I would see some of the same demonic creatures from my tonsillectomy.

I remember daddy holding me in his arms one night as I screamed from hallucinations of a high fever as unfinished sheetrock and sheetrock mud over joints and nails transformed into scary creatures.  Monstrous demons reached for me with mouths wide open trying to devour me. 

As momma cried and wringed her hands in a nervous breakdown delirium, daddy would hold me firm and speak comforting words of hope and assurance.  Daddy would shield me from these fiends and ogres from the pits of hell.  As the fever would subside, I would find that indeed daddy had carried through a gigantic struggle.

Such are the fears of a little boy as he faces adversities and who has a daddy that will hold softly, yet firm in his arms and protect him.  I needed his love, tender and formidable.

These events remind me that I have a heavenly Father that holds me and keeps the demonic at bay.  Satan will do anything to destroy my testimony or yours.  I am glad when the Scriptures remind that God who loves you and me will fight for, and carry His children.

 

Then I said to you, "Do not be terrified; do not be afraid of them. The LORD your God, who is going before you, will fight for you, as He did for you in Egypt, before your very eyes, and in the desert. There you saw how the LORD your God carried you, as a father carries his son, all the way you went until you reached this place." Deuteronomy 1:29-31

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