A few days ago, I was invited by my friend to a Christian life group sharing. The group leader referred to a passage from the bible about a man named Jairus whose daughter was dying and he asked help from Jesus to save her. When Jesus arrived at the house, he did not let anyone in except his disciples and the girl’s parents. Jesus said “Don’t cry; the child is not dead-she is only sleeping!”. There were some people who made fun of him. Jesus called out to the child, and she got up.
What touched me about the whole story is Faith.
During the time that I was unconscious in the ICU, my condition was critical, in a medical induced coma with nearly no chance of survival. The doctors had informed my family to prepare for the worse. My dear sister tried to restrict the number of visitors. There were relatives who wanted to say their goodbyes. She struggled to prevent them from entering as she feared that I may pick up their words and thus give up on life. Sometimes she succeeded, sometime she didn’t. Luckily, I was blissfully ignorant and didn’t hear any news about myself on the brink of death. It surely would have impacted me mentally.
Even though my condition looked bleak, there were many people from different races and religions; Muslims, Christians, Hindus, Buddhists and Taoists who prayed for me. They prayed according to their own faith and belief.
One of my friends, Cordelia Lee, rallied up through Facebook for prayers on my behalf. Many people including strangers agreed to pray for me. Some even fasted and restricted their diet in hope their prayers would be answered.
A friend of mine, who is a Taoist, conducted a special ceremony for me with a lighted fire on oil and prayed for me. He took care of the fire making sure that it had a continuous supply of fuel without being extinguished; throughout my nearly 4 months stay in the ICU.
One of my teachers, with some of my previous class mates from a course that I attended a few years before my accident, raise funds and release animals on my behalf. It was their belief that the act of releasing all sort of creatures will help to save and prolonged my life.
It was indeed touching to find out about all this after I was in much better health. So much so that I cried listening to the stories told by my sister or reading my Facebook messages for the first time.
I am thankful and appreciative of the effort that they made and the faith that they had. When medical science couldn’t do anything further anymore, in time of difficulties, their faith helped to sustain me.
There are people in this world who insists that their religion is the only true path or impose their view on others. Some are close minded towards other religions. During my stay in the ICU, people of all race and religion prayed for me. I personally don’t believe that God is only there for a particular group of people, race or religion. I truly believe : God is there for all.
Popular posts from this blog
The birth of Patrick changed my marriage life from the two of us to the three of us, a family. We were excited, happy, worried followed by all kind of emotions for our baby son. So many things to learn, to experience. Breastfeeding, constant thoughts on our baby's well being especially when his jaundice appeared to rise during his first month. The lacking of sleep. There were moments I observed his breathing while he slept. We were amazed by every new mannerisms that Patrick displayed. We were so charmed when he first smiled to us. I would observed how gently my husband would treat Patrick and how Patrick would looked up to him, listening to his every word. Mummy supporting and loving baby We were enjoying ourselves as new parents until something happened in the middle of November 2017 that changed our lives forever. "There is something not right with his stools." My sister in law remarked to me while I tiredly changed Patrick's diapers. Menta
By Eileyn -
I looked at his pale face and frail body on the hospital bed. Lines and tubes on his legs and neck. There was a bag at the right side with yellowish looking water inside. The liquid was not urine but water which had to be pumped out from his stomach cavity. It was difficult to see someone whom you have known since young to look so weak. He had lost weight and aged considerably. It was the second day of Chinese New Year. My sister and I took a trip down to Kuala Lumpur to visit relatives. We visited a cousin at the High Dependency Unit, he had liver cancer and was complaining of diarrhea. Visiting hours were 11.30am to 1.30am and 5.30pm to 7.30pm. We had to take turns going in as only 2 guests at a time are allowed. Despite having the experience of a prolonged stay at the hospital and being immobile, I was tongue tied. I didn’t know what to say or how to comfort him. I could only share with him of my previous struggle at the hospital. On our second visit bef
By Cordy -
During updating Patrick's status to a friend of mine today, Patrick called out from the bed. I looked up to his dancing eyes and smiling face. This would usually put me in smiles. Instead, I watched his face more closely than usual. Much earlier this morning, closer to 2am, his vomit was mixed with blood. He was down with flu and cough since late last week. Earlier this week since Monday, the past couple of nights had been trying to us both. He woke up a few times coughing that caused him to vomit out his milk. For my readers who have not been aware, every night his nasogastric tube attached to a machine that pumped in milk throughout the night. I do this upon the doctor's advice to assist him to gain weight. HIs running nose irritated Patrick when its mucus dripped onto his upper lip. His body temperature did not appear to reach 37.5C and beyond. He has been active, as per his normal self except during the night he appeared to be more fussy than usual. He also appeared to