It all happened when my son was seven years old; he is now 16. He had gone out behind our house to play in a small creek while I was in the house cooking. Suddenly he staggered through the door screaming. I turned around and could see that one of his eyes was bleeding – not just around the eye, but the actual eyeball itself.
I covered his eye with a dish towel and ran to the front door to scream for my sister-in-law to come help. Thank God my husband had just gotten home from work. We rushed as quick as possible to the hospital. I sat in the back seat with my son on my lap, he and I both crying, while I prayed.
A CAT scan showed he had bleeding behind the eye and into the brain. The doctors didn't believe the eye could be saved and did not know if the bleeding in the brain could be stopped. They said he would need to be flown to a larger hospital more than an hour and half away from home. It was the worst time in my life.
My sister immediately left to go to the other hospital to be there when the plane arrived, while my husband and I stayed with my sun until the plane lifted off. Then we went home to pack clothes to stay at the hospital.
While we were there, my sister-in-law came over and told us my husband’s cousin Timmy had heard the news and called. I dialed the number and asked to speak to Timmy. As soon as he said hello, I said, “Timmy, they think Bub will have to have his eye removed and they are worried about the bleeding in the brain.”
The voice on the other end asked, “Who are you trying to get a hold of?”
“Isn't this Timmy?” I asked.
“Yes,” he said, “but I don't know Bub or you, ma’am.”
I apologized for having dialed the wrong number.
He answered, “I don't know who you are, but I am a preacher at a local church and I will pray for your son. May God bless you.”
Not thinking much of the call, I hurried to my son’s side.
After a week in the hospital, the bleeding around the brain had subsided, the broken facial bones were fixed, and my son had not lost his injured eye – although he had lost his sight in the eye. We praised God for His goodness.
Once my son was home, my dad said he would like to take him to his church to have the preachers anoint him with oil and pray for him. Upon entering the church, a young preacher arose and said, “My name is Timmy. I have been at this church for over a year and know this young boy’s grandpa quite well. When he told me his grandson had been injured, I asked what had happened and he said his grandson had an eye injury where an older child had hit him with a large rock.”
Timmy the preacher then explained that it was he who had received my phone call the day of the injury, instead of my husband’s cousin by the same name. “it was at that time I realized God had dialed that number for this mother,” he continued, “because they needed my prayers. Although her son has lost his sight, God answered my prayer to please heal this child and return him safely home to his parents.”
I know God dialed the number of a holy man to pray for my child’s life and safe return home! I was truly blessed by a guardian angel. I prayed for God’s help in the back seat of that car on the way to the hospital and he sent it in a man named Timmy.
Tammy G.
Delbarton, WV
Shared 2011