CAROL IS SLEEPING . . . THREE YEARS AND COUNTING

Charles finished his work shift at 3:00 p.m. His weekend was beginning in the middle of my week. The time off would give Charles a day when he could visit his cousin in another city. He stopped by the parsonage on his way home and invited me to go with him. He wanted me to meet his aunt⎯a woman he described as the most courageous mother he had ever known.

Our visit would be timed to coincide with his cousin's nineteenth birthday. There would not be a birthday cake or party. In fact, his cousin would not respond in any way; nor could she, as far as anyone knew. She had suffered a serious head injury in a car accident three years earlier. The injury had left her comatose.

On the day of our visit, the drive to the home of Charles' aunt gave him less than an hour to prepare his inexperienced 24 year-old pastor for the visit. Try as he might, he could not find the words or the way to explain what I was about to see. Finally, he simply said I would just have to experience it for myself.

It was mid-spring in Oklahoma. A gentle breeze teased the leaves and blooming flowers into a swaying victory dance. Creation was celebrating new life after a long, hard winter. It seemed appropriate. We had come to celebrate a life that was once vibrant and vivacious, filled with laughter and play⎯the dance of youth. But now, that young life was strangely silent and still⎯waiting for a new life and a victory dance of another sort. This was a heart held in the loving hands of God. Only He could and did understand.

In silence, I prayed, giving thanks to God for my health, my youth, and His grace. My prayer ended when Charles slowed the car and pulled over to the curb, stopping in front of his aunt's home.

"Auntie was waiting and watching for us," Charles said with a chuckle as we got out of the car. I turned to see an attractive, motherly woman in her forties coming down the steps to meet us. Charles met her halfway between the car and the porch. They greeted each other warmly. Both had clearly been looking forward to our visit.
"Charles," I heard her say, "I was expecting you to come, even before you called." Turning to me, she explained, "He always comes on Carol's birthday."

Charles introduced me as his pastor and his aunt made me feel as though I was one of the family. I could tell she was the kind of person who always had room for one more in the family circle. "Let's go inside," she suggested, leading the way into the house. "I know you are eager to see Carol."

We entered a spacious, but homey living room. I glanced around. Everything was in its place and it all seemed to say welcome. Immediately, I felt at home.
Pausing inside, Charles' aunt asked if I knew about Carol. "A little," Charles answered. She led us into Carol's room and announced our presence.
"Carol, we have company," she said. "Charles and his pastor have come to see us and help us celebrate your birthday."

Charles greeted Carol and introduced me as his pastor. I spoke to her even though I felt a little awkward. Charles continued talking to Carol.

"Carol, you are just as beautiful as ever. I can hardly believe you are 19 today. It seems like only yesterday that you and I were playing baseball together. That was before I went away to war. You couldn't have been over seven years old, and look at you today. You are now a beautiful young woman of 19!"

Charles and his aunt continued visiting, including Carol in their conversation. I looked, listened, and learned. It was hard for me to fully grasp the moment. Before me was a beautiful young woman who was unconscious, and had been for three years. Yet, her hair and face was picture perfect. She lay sleeping on a three-quarter bed, with a stylish hairdo and fresh makeup on her face. She looked as though she was just resting after a morning trip to the beauty salon.

Our visit lasted about an hour. We told Carol goodbye and walked to the front porch. Charles' aunt asked if she could tell me about Carol and the night that changed her life. We sat down.

"Pastor," she began, "you may think us strange the way we talked to Carol. Her doctors have told us that, though she is in a coma, she may be able to hear some⎯if not all⎯of what is being said in her presence. The doctors cautioned us not to speak negatively or falsely about her condition or any prospect she may have of waking up. They are fine Christians and have told us she is in the hands of God. Should God wake her up, all praise and honor goes to Him. If she doesn't wake up, in time, her body will shut down and she will move to heaven. We are here to care for Carol as though she will wake up at any moment."

"I am a trained beautician," she continued. "I had my own shop at the time Carol was injured. When we brought her home I sold my shop so I could stay with her and care for her. I believe God directed me to beauty college, and I was especially trained to take care of my daughter. I count it a blessed privilege to care for her. Every morning I fix her hair and her face . . . I call it my 'mothering ministry.' I believe it is most pleasing to God. I abound with energy and have never felt the need of being relieved or the need of a vacation. I want to be here when, and if, Carol awakes. I keep my mind stayed on God, and I have peace from Him. Isaiah 26:3 has become real to me."

She shifted positions, and the tone of her voice changed slightly as her eyes lit up with excitement. "Carol was saved at the age of 13, and she has been a very strong witness since her conversion. Christ was her life, and she wanted everyone to know Him, especially the kids she went to school with."

It was about 5:00 p.m. on the night that changed their lives when a group of kids from their church had driven to Oklahoma City for a youth rally. It was Carol's birthday. She was 16 years old. Their plans included stopping at a favorite spot after the rally for ice cream in celebration of her birthday. They would be a little late getting home.

On their way for ice cream, it happened. A young man, intoxicated from a different kind of party, was driving at high speed on a newly opened divided highway. He was on his way to get more drinks for the party when he lost control of his car. The car ran off the pavement, through the center median, and crashed head-on into the vehicle in which Carol was a passenger. The driver was killed. Other kids in the car with Carol suffered minor injuries, but she was seriously hurt.

Charles' aunt paused. Her eyes filled with tears. "Pastor, that poor mother of the boy that was killed," she said. "My heart and prayers are still for her. I attended the graveside funeral with his mother and I'll never forget her words. 'I will never see him again. He died lost. Now he is forever lost. There will never be another party for him.'"

"Pastor, I thank God for my Carol . . . and I believe her witness for Him has been more effective these last three years than in the first three years of her Christian life. She is a silent reflector of the Light of the world. And that light, Jesus Christ, is shining into the sin-darkened hearts of people almost weekly. At first it was a stream of young people coming to see her every week. Then it slowed to just a trickle. Now, not as many, but some still come at various times. All of them know of Carol becoming a Christian before the accident and that God is now using her as a silent witness. I cannot explain it, but as they see her lying peacefully, waiting for God's wake up call, they are impressed with the urgent need of receiving Christ while they are yet conscious lest something like the accident should happen to them."

With that, she seemed to end her testimony. I felt I should comment in some way and said the only thing that came to mind. "It must be a great comfort to you to know Carol was saved before the accident and that God is using her as a silent missionary to witness to others." She nodded. "You are a most remarkable woman and mother," I added. "I can sense God's presence in you even as we talk."
"That's my desire," she said with a smile.

Our visit ended with all three of us praying together. Charles and I returned to Tulsa and I was left alone with my thoughts. Deeply moved, I sensed the Holy Spirit teaching me truths I would need and use in ministering to others.

Of the things I learned, I think foremost was the urgency of having a saving relationship with God while we are capable of hearing and responding to the gospel of Christ. No one is exempted from the accidents or disease that may render us incapable of ever responding to God's grace through faith in Jesus Christ (Ephesians 2:8, 9). The decision to be a Christ-follower is too important to be postponed.
Buoyed by her own relationship with God and the assurance of her daughter's, Carol's mother was not bitter. She did not blame God for the horrible accident that left her daughter in a coma. Instead, she worked on her relationship with God and gave thanks to Him for living in her⎯for He alone knew the depth of both of their pain . . . and yours.

Prayer: Lord, thank You for giving me an occasional glimpse of Your plans and purposes. I confess that a lot of times I don't understand what You are doing, but that doesn't change the fact that You have a plan and it is being carried out in perfect detail. Help me to trust Your wisdom and lift You up in every circumstance of life . . . like Carol and her mother.