I can’t take the anger, the loneliness, the pain any longer.
I sink to my knees. Everything wrong with my life swells in a rush of emotion.
Holly S. Roberts
Day four of lying here in the hospital. It is the same routine as the last two days with the doctors and nurses. All is well.
When it was time to leave, I ask the angel how long will I remain in this condition. He says, “Until the Lord awakens me.”
He takes my hand as my spirit rises, and we appear during my college days.
I loved fashion and wanted to enter the world of fashion. I was accepted into the Fashion Institute of Technology. Living on campus away from home my first year, I lost my mind because I had no restraints. I was free!
I hung out with friends and partied until daybreak. I was drinking, smoking, and doing drugs. Everything I knew not to do, I was doing.
We loved dancing and found the best parties and clubs were in Brooklyn, NY, so we rode the subway there from Manhattan.
I met this guy at one of the parties; he was so cute I couldn’t take my eyes off him. He noticed me and came over to introduce himself. The ladies I was with whispered in my ear, saying, “He’s a player; leave him alone.” But I didn’t listen.
We started dating.
He was a college graduate with a low-level corporate marketing position. He took me to fancy restaurants, the movies, and his apartment.
I thought we had something special between us.
Then, late one night, I decided to surprise him. I didn’t think about how riding the subway alone could be dangerous at that time of night; I wanted to be with him. I rode the train from Manhattan to Brooklyn to spend the night with him.
When I arrived at his apartment and knocked on his door, a young lady wearing a baby doll nightgown answered. She looked as surprised as I did and wanted to know who I was and why I was there. Once I told her who I was, she angrily called him to the door. He was shirtless. He looked at me dumbfounded, acting like he didn’t know who I was. He immediately closed the door in my face. Once the door was closed, I could hear them arguing.
I decided I wouldn’t be dismissed that easily, so I knocked on the door again. He answered, and I began calling him every terrible name I could think of. The girl, now dressed in street clothes, didn’t like how I talked to her man and decided she would fight his battle.
She stepped in front of him and started pointing and calling me names, so I hit her. The fight was on; we fell on the floor outside the apartment in the hallway. The guy tried to pull me off her as neighbors began opening doors. They complained about the noise and how late it was, threatening to call the police. I stopped fighting when I looked and saw blood flowing from her nose and mouth.
I ran to the subway feeling embarrassed and stupid.
I thought about how my friends had told me to leave him alone, but he was my first boyfriend.
I cried back to Manhattan. It was 3:00 a.m. I was glad there weren’t many people on the subway.
It felt like my world had crumbled. I was so depressed. I couldn’t stop beating myself up. I was failing classes because I could barely get out of bed.
When my parents called to check on me, I would say everything was great. But they knew something was wrong because I hadn’t been home to visit in a while.
My roommate was worried about me because all I did was sleep. We got along well, but she was studious and disagreed with my social life.
She called my parents, who said they knew something was wrong.
I was angry and relieved when she told me what she had done. I was drowning in my sorrows.
They didn’t hesitate to bring me home when they came to visit. I made arrangements with the dean of students to have my classes graded incomplete, with the promise to do better when I returned.
While home, I attended a church my parents found and loved. It turned out to be a blessing. Many young people like me attended who were trying to make sense of their lives. They helped give me perspective.
I waited until the following year to return to school. I felt better and much stronger spiritually and mentally.
And since I felt better, I placed my faith on a shelf in my heart and turned all my focus on school and my future.
The angel says, “Watch,” he then shows me how passionately my parents and grandparents had prayed for my sister and me daily. They prayed for our well-being and for the Lord to order our steps and direct our path.
My sister had been away at college for two years and seemed to be doing well, or at least that’s what she said. Who knows—she may have been lying just like me.
The angel says, “That the earnest prayer of a righteous person has great power and produces wonderful results “ (James 5:16b; NLT).
I am beginning to understand the power and need for prayer.
The angel then shows me another vision that grieves me. It is a vision of anguish as my angel sits next to me, traveling alone so late at night to the guy’s apartment—the profound sadness as he turns his face away and prays while I wrestle on the floor with that young lady. I witness the disappointment on his face as we sit on the train, returning to the dormitory.
My foolishness causes him grief. And still, he comforts me while watching over me as I cry my eyes out, just as he did when I was a little girl.
I ask him why he didn’t stop me. He looks at me and says, “Because God has given you free will to perform however you desire. The same free will that your desires can hijack can liberate you to a path of righteousness and eternal life.”
That gives me a reason to pause and think until we bid farewell to college day dramas and return to the hospital.
My dad and sister aren’t there, but my mom’s sister is. Seeing them spend time together is so good. They haven’t spoken much since their parents passed away. They are laughing and giggling like two little girls.
Seeing my family come together is almost worth being in the hospital. I said, “Almost.”
I hope this spirit of reconciling love remains between us all and strengthens even after I am blessed to wake up from this coma.