12: An Interruption for a Miracle

12: An Interruption for a Miracle

From Chicken Soup for the Soul: Angels and Miracles

An Interruption for a Miracle

Miracles come in moments. Be ready and willing.

~Dr. Wayne Dyer

I pinched myself to make sure I wasn’t dreaming as Christy and I sped down the road with the “Just Married” sign flapping behind us. Who would have believed that our wedding day would end like this, I thought, as I glanced at my beautiful bride still dressed in her wedding gown.

As the miles faded behind us, I relived that initial moment of shock when I saw the police car coming up the long driveway of my uncle’s estate where we were holding our outdoor wedding and reception. At first, I’d thought it was a joke that my brother, our best man, was playing on me, but I soon realized this was no joke. The officer was looking for me.

Leaving my place at the table, where Christy and I were enjoying the savory barbecued meat and other delicacies, I’d gone to find out what the officer wanted. He handed me a piece of paper with a woman’s name and phone number on it. “You’re supposed to call this number as soon as possible.”

The woman’s name meant nothing to me and I wondered again whether this was a joke. “But I don’t know this woman,” I protested. “Why should I call her? We’re in the middle of our wedding reception!”

“The message is from your dialysis unit. They asked us to deliver it because the phone number here is unlisted.”

The only message important enough to interrupt our wedding would be that the hospital had a kidney for me. I’d been waiting for a kidney transplant for five years.

As we walked into the house to make the call, I couldn’t help but think of all the times the hospital had called me with good news, only to find out later that for some reason or other, the surgery could not take place. I didn’t want to interrupt our wedding for another false alarm.

The hospital assured me that they had a kidney for me, but they added, “Your blood work on file is a day older than required so we’ll need to do new blood work to be sure the kidney is a match.”

“I’m at my wedding,” I interrupted. “Do I have to come right now?”

“The sooner, the better.”

“What do you want to do, Christy?” I asked my bride. “It could be another false alarm.”

Christy looked at me and smiled. “Of course we’re going! Why are you even asking?”

So here we were, on our way to the hospital, while our guests and families continued to celebrate at the reception without us.

Life on dialysis hadn’t been easy. It meant getting up at 5:30 a.m. three days a week to spend five or six hours at the dialysis unit, then coming home and sleeping a lot. It meant watching what I ate and how much I drank, and sometimes getting itchy and puffy.

Unpleasant as that sounds, I’d reached the point where I was content with my circumstances, but was it fair to ask someone else to adjust to that kind of life? I couldn’t hold a full-time job, and with all my limitations, I didn’t think I’d make a very exciting husband.

Meanwhile, Christy was a rock. Her faith never wavered. “By our honeymoon, you’ll have a new kidney,” she kept telling me.

The last time they’d called me to come to the hospital, they’d taken me off the transplant waiting list because my white blood cell count had been too low. I wasn’t sure if they had even put me back on the list later after my blood work checked out. Our honeymoon was to be two months after the wedding. I was so afraid Christy was going to be disappointed.

I glanced at my wife sitting in the passenger seat, a serene smile on her face. Apparently, someone had put me back on the list.

It was a strange trip, with my emotions vacillating between excitement and fear of being disappointed. When we finally arrived, and walked into the hospital in our wedding garb, I couldn’t resist saying to the receptionist, “We’d like the Honeymoon Suite, please.”

One of our guests had called the television stations and, after the lab did my blood work, the reporters and cameras started hunting us down on the ninth floor — the floor for celebrities and transplants. Our parents and our pastor arrived, too, as we continued to wait for the final word. Was the kidney a match?

I kept asking the nurse, “Any word yet?”

Finally, at 8:00 p.m., she came in and said the words we’d all been waiting to hear, “It’s a go!”

Our pastor jumped out of his chair shouting, “Praise the Lord!”

Always before, when we’d reached this point, as we parted at the operating room doors we’d say, “If something should go wrong during surgery, I love you.” Tonight our faith was so strong, Christy just said, “Sweet dreams,” as they pushed me through the doors.

In spite of all my previous doubts and fears about what kind of a life I could provide for Christy, her statement about me having a new kidney by our honeymoon proved to be prophetic — even though its arrival interrupted our wedding! Our pastor summed it up well when he said, “Jesus performed His first miracle during an interruption at a wedding, but for Dwight and Christy, He interrupted a wedding to perform a miracle.”

~Dwight Crocker

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