Chapter 23

God Speaks Again

    Late one night was laying in my bed, exhausted. The shooting pains in my right leg had left me weak, shaking and I was crying. All of a sudden a peace came over me and a voice in my mind clearly said, "Whatsoever thou asketh will be given." I knew who was speaking to me, my Lord. I knew also, without a shadow of a doubt, that if I asked for a miracle, my leg would be instantly healed and I would walk out of that hospital. And I wanted that more than anything else in the world. But, the answer that came out of my mouth was, "Not my will, but thy will be done."

    Have you ever said something and then set back and asked yourself, where did that come from? That is exactly what happened to me. I wanted to go home, I couldn’t take any more and here was my opportunity, but something inside me answered, "Not my will, but thy will be done", and then I went to sleep.

    The next morning I clearly remembered the episode and attempted to get out of bed, hoping that a miracle had indeed happened but no, my condition had not improved. Honestly, I was disappointed. But the Lord was still dealing on my behalf,  although I didn’t recognize it at the time.

Other Voices - Ron Peterson     

   We had now had about all we could stand with the poor communications and I felt that it would be best for me to go there myself and bring Sis.Linda and Bro. John back home.   I set a time for the board to meet in my office for a conference call from Linda.  We were all anxiously waiting for the phone to ring.  When the phone rang and Sis. Linda was put on speakerphone for all in my office to hear, I asked her if it was necessary for me to come over and help her.  After a hesitant response, her answer was, "No, I don't think that is necessary".  Sensing desperation in her voice and discerning that she is just saying that as to not burden me with their troubles, I asked her again, but this time with emphasis.  "Sis. Linda listen to me carefully.  Do you need me to come over there to help you?"   Her  voice cracked and emotions came to the surface and she said, "Yes".  That was all that it took.

    I told her that I would leave on the next available flight out.  Reservations were made for a flight out the next day, but sometime during that day of the phone call I had lost my equilibrium and had to be taken by some brethern to the emergency room at the hospital.  The devil was fighting us on both ends.  The brethern tried to tell me to wait a day or so before leaving but I felt it would all right to travel the next day.  Praise the Lord it happened just that way.

Luke 15:4-5
What man of you, having an hundred sheep, if he lose one of them, doth not leave the ninety and nine in the wilderness, and go after that which is lost, until he find it?   And when he hath found it, he layeth it on his shoulders, rejoicing.

   When Linda came back and told me that Bro. Ron said, "The shepherd is leaving the ninety and eight and coming for the two",  I cried and cried.  I really can’t explain what it was like - I had hope again. There was a chance that I would be going home and see my family again. Once I was lost and now I’m found. We both counted the days until Brother Ron came and it seemed to take forever.

    I was still having lots of problems,   ironically, with my right leg. I had had a nurse from the American embassy coming in and checking with me every three or four days and she suggested that her husband come and see me. Her husband was an anesthesiologist and he suggested a procedure with involving giving me some sort of an injection in my spine to temporarily deaden me from the waist down. While the thought of not feeling any pain was very attractive to me, the thought of getting a shot in my back terrified me!  About this same time one of the physicians who went to Bro. Jeremiah's’s church came in to visit me. Apparently he deals with quite a few AIDS patients and,  unfortunately,  they can develop large ulcerated sores which are very painful. He offered a suggestion because he had found this medicine particularly effective in reducing the pain from those sores. Well,  we gave it a shot (little joke there) and Praise God, it really did help. Mind you, I still had some pain,  but nothing like I had been having for the prior couple of weeks.

    Just before Bro. Ron arrived in Zimbabwe I had another visitor, Bro. Jerry Bessett from my hometown of Phoenix.  Bro. Jerry was heavily involved in Prison Ministries and,  although I hadn’t met him,  I had heard of his wonderful work. He had been visiting some of the revolting prisons in the neighboring countries of Zambia and Angola. Apparently he had heard of me and took time to come and visit me. Besides his cheerful demeanor he brought me some very welcome reminders of home, CANDY BARS! Chocolate bars, peanut bars, taffy, some of the things which are unavailable in Zimbabwe. He had these in his emergency stash, and boy,  were they welcome. We talked a couple of times and he did much for my frame of mind. It was with great sorrow that I learned of his passing in 1997.

    I haven’t mentioned my doctor for quite some time primarily because he wasn’t doing much for me at this time. We were the ones who were trying to make the arrangements for getting me home. The matrons, Connie and Anna, were taking the best care that they could provide and Linda, the Piersons and the Shambas took up the rest of the slack. We never confronted the doctor about the lie regarding the healing of my leg and I’m really not sure why. Anyway, he became almost a nonentity to us,  even though he stopped in almost every day. "How are you doing today?", and almost before the answer was complete he had left. I didn’t know then what I know now, he was completely over his head on my case and wasn’t a good enough physician to admit it. Fortunately,  the Great Physician was in charge of my case and he was orchestrating the final outcome.

    The big day arrived and Bro. Ron arrived in Zimbabwe. Linda, John  and Maryanne Pierson met him at the airport and brought him immediately to me. I had been waiting in great anticipation for days and I was so excited. Curiously, the moment he walked through the door into my room I started crying, and I couldn’t stop. He came over and hugged me and held me and we both cried for quite a long while. After regaining our composure we talked for a long time about my condition, what we had tried to do to get me home, how Linda was coping with the situation and a hundred and one other things. I can’t explain the relief I felt just having him there. I just knew that everything was going to be alright. I didn’t know how he was going to accomplish it, but I knew he would get me home.

Other Voices - Ron Peterson     

  Upon arrival into Harare, Sis. Linda met me at the airport and,  although I had not slept all night on the plane and was in desperate need of some rest, I told Linda to take me directly to see Bro. John.  As we entered the parking lot of the hospital, I saw many local natives huddled together around the front door.  Some were sitting and others were laying on blankets in the shade and you could immediately see that they were all waiting their turn to "see the doctor".  This was a county hospital in a third world country,  so you can imagine what it looked like. 

    Before entering the room to where John was at, I hesitated at the door and whispered a prayer.  Upon entering the room, I was appalled at what I saw.  It was a stark resemblance of Bro. John,   but he was so thin and emaciated to the John I knew.  It was hard for me to recognize him.  It was only after he leaned forward in the bed, extended his arms toward me and that infectious smile came upon his face that I was certain it was he.  Tears, hugs and emotions were flowing freely and as we embraced,  I felt as one who was on a mission sent to bring a POW back home from his captivity.  "Bro. John", I said, "I've come to take you home".  The journey had just begun.

    Just prior to Bro. Ron arriving I had been fitted with a long metal brace that strapped tightly around my upper thigh. It had long bars, on either side, that kept my leg straight and fastened into holes drilled into the sole of my shoe. Surprisingly, the unit being tightly strapped to my thigh made my leg more comfortable rather than being more painful. They had tried to get me up on my feet, with this contraption on, but what a fiasco that turned out to be. The two guys that tried to lift me up were not big enough to hold me up. After about 20 seconds I started getting sick to my stomach, my vision narrowed and I virtually passed out. That was tried on two different occasions with even poorer results.

    The same day that Bro. Ron came he tried to give me a haircut. I hadn’t had one in almost three months and I was looking pretty scraggly. Fortunately,  I didn't have a mirror in my room nor had anyone been inclined to tell my how terrible I looked. (I either had to get a haircut or find a tree limb to get on and growl at people as they walked underneath). They put me into a wheelchair and he wheeled me outside on the veranda outside of my room. Oh what a thrill that was! That was the first time that I had been in a wheelchair and the first time in 2-1/2 months that I had been outside of that hospital. (only about 3’ outside, but hey, outside was outside!) But then, something happened. I started feeling sick to my stomach and again, I started to feel dizzy and I knew I was about to pass out. Bro. Ron rushed me back in and they loaded me back in my bed. Round trip of about 15-20 minutes. Apparently when someone has been laying on their back as much as I had, your heart forgets that it has to pump the blood harder to reach the brain when you sit or stand up. Your blood pressure falls and you can pass out. Oh, I was so scared that this would prevent me from getting to go home, so I didn’t tell anyone.

Other Voices - Ron Peterson     

   The doctors would release Bro. John in four days if we could get him to get his strength to sit up, for as yet he had only been able to lay down.  I was taken to the hotel to check in and after having splashed water on my face and changed clothes, it was time to go back to the hospital and get things going.  Doctors, release forms, paperwork, and rehab all needed to be started that day.  I requested the brothers to stop by a store and let me buy some haircutting tools and some things to freshen John up with.  He was in need of a haircut badly!

    We got Bro. John to sit in a wheelchair.  His spirit was so high it seemed to brighten the dimly lit room.   After about 15 minutes of hacking and chopping away at his curly locks, he told me he was getting sick and needed to lie down.  I tried to get him to give me 5 more minutes to finish my attempt at barbering, but he was firm with his request and I could sense urgency in his voice.  It took us several minutes to round up enough nurses to get him back into bed and you could tell by his flushed and sweaty face that he had taken all that he could stand for the moment.  "Lord, we're really going to need your grace to pull this one off.  Please help us!" was my silent prayer.

    The next week was filled with activity as we prepared to go home. Bro. Ron first talked with the doctor, matrons Connie and Anna and also with the people at MARS. He then came to me and asked if I thought I could make the trip if he purchased first class tickets so that I would have a reclining seat. We discussed this and our watch words became, whatever it takes.

    About this same time I started developing problems with my vision and my sense of balance. Periodically throughout the day I would have bouts of double-vision. Again, I thought this was my physical condition, never giving a thought to the fact that it could be medicine related. I also would get very dizzy whenever I would move my head suddenly. Unbeknownst to me,  I started to talk to people with one eye closed so I could seem them properly. I didn’t tell anyone, not even the matrons,  because I wanted to go home so badly.

Other Voices - Ron Peterson     

   The next four days were so hectic you would not believe it.  Besides getting Bro. John ready to go home, I was asked to minister to the local assemblies. After having done so, I was nearly to the point of total mental and physical exhaustion.   In getting with Sis. Linda one day, I stopped to look in her face and was ashamed that I had failed to give her some attention also, having up to this time only centered my focus on John.  Never complaining and working unceasingly since she had gotten there, Sis. Linda did need a day of rest to gather strength herself.  I had her pack her belongings and check into the same hotel that I was at, for she had been staying with a family with several children and needless to say, she was not getting the rest that she would be needing for the tiring journey home.  After seeing what she had been through, I must say I have the greatest admiration for her, and Bro. John should always thank God for a jewel like Sis. Linda for a wife.

    More and more people came to visit us in my room because they had heard that I would be leaving Zimbabwe very soon. Some were old friends and others I recognized from having visited me before. One young lady often visited me, many times daily, because she was training at the hospital. Sis. Chipo Museva was training to be a laboratory assistant and was finishing her internship at the Parirenyatwa hospital. She was always smiling and usually had words of encouragement that meant a lot to me. The Shambas and the Piersons usually spent their evenings with us in the hospital that last week.

    The last several days also had us and the American embassy negotiating with officials trying to get me out of the hospital. Just after I had gotten out of the coma the hospital had required that we deposit a large sum of money in a Zimbabwean bank to cover my expected hospital expenses. That account was managed by one of the American Embassy consular officers, Mr. David Abel. David and nurse Chloe Clarke had visited me a number of times and helped in every way that they could,   and we sure needed their help right then.

    Now the hospital was not going to release me without payment, even though they could not present us with an itemized list of charges! The money was in an account in Zimbabwe with the American embassy in charge, but it took all of David’s persuasive powers to get me released. They had even invoked a little known clause in their regulations that foreign nationals being treated in Zimbabwean hospitals had to pay double the rate of their own people. I told Linda,  Pay anything, just get me home!

    We had also been trying for a number of days to get a copy of my medical records so that we could fax them to the doctor in Phoenix that would be taking care of me. One of the brothers in our church, Randy Snow, knew of a superb orthopedic surgeon named Dr. Michael Steingard in Phoenix and he agreed to take my case, sight unseen. Dr. Steingard needed my medical records so he could see the extent of my injuries and what treatment had been performed, medications etc. The hospital was unwilling to give them up!  Needless to say,  we were all pretty upset by this,   but we had learned by then that to get angry usually didn’t accomplish anything. On our last day someone (I now know who) had "accidentally" left medical records in my room after a bout with the physical therapists. No one came to reclaim them, so I  Linda walked out of the hospital with them, openly under her arm, and no one stopped her. The Lord was watching out for me even in something mundane like that.