TAKEN FROM MARK'S BOOK, "A SEED IS ALL YOU NEED TO BE HEALED."
It was 2001. I was 41, recently married to Ruth, and I was bleeding internally. Every time I went to the toilet I noticed blood coming from behind. Having lost an uncle through stomach cancer, I was convinced that the same was going to happen to me. Out of fear I buried my head in the sand and hoped that the bleeding would stop. It didn’t.
Over the weeks I became weaker and weaker until one day I couldn’t walk up the stairs. My heart was pounding and fear consumed me. I rang the NHS helpline and a doctor was sent immediately. He took one look at me and said I needed to get to the hospital as I had lost so much blood. He was very calm but I could see the fear in his eyes.
I began to panic. Not thinking straight, I grabbed my car keys and drove with my wife to the hospital four miles away. I realise now that by not waiting for an ambulance, not only did I endanger my own life by driving, but I could have collapsed at the wheel with my wife in the car too.
We arrived at the hospital A and E, my heart still thumping in my chest. The lady at the counter was asking for my details, unaware of the severity of my condition. She told me to walk around to the rear of the building, which I couldn’t believe but did anyway.
My wife supported me as we made our way to the other entrance, and I suddenly said to myself,
“Where would I go if I were to die right now? Heaven or Hell?”
An overwhelming fear came over me and made my heart beat even faster.
We finally found the entrance to the correct ward but to our astonishment security had locked all the doors to the hospital as it was late in the evening. I couldn’t believe what was happening, I was dying at the closed doors of the hospital.
I saw a nurse outside having a cigarette and asked if she could help, it seemed as though time was standing still and everything was going in slow motion. I realised in my heart that if I died here, now, I would go to Hell. Past sins were flashing through my mind and the fear of God overwhelmed my thoughts as I stood there and prayed “Jesus, save me!” I cried and repeated this prayer over and over whilst asking forgiveness again and again.
After what seemed like an eternity, finally the doors slid open and we were able to get in. As we stepped into the corridor a group of doctors and nurses were waiting and shouted: “Are you Mark?” I wearily said yes, and in moments I was on a bed trolley travelling at vast speeds through different corridors.
I don’t remember if I fell asleep or into unconsciousness, but I was woken by a nurse gently tapping my face calling my name. As soon as I regained consciousness and realised I was still alive with tubes in both arms, I prayed again.
“Jesus, if you save me I will serve You the rest of my life.”
I must have fallen asleep again, this same thing happened several times throughout the night, and every time I woke up I would pray and was so glad to be alive. I woke the next day with the sunlight beaming through the windows, it was Sunday morning.
The surgeon came and stood at the bottom of the bed.
“Good morning,” he said, as he lifted my notes from a clipboard.
“Good morning” I replied, knowing that something truly amazing had happened to me. I felt so alive and so grateful to God because I knew Jesus has saved me.
The surgeon asked me how I got here.
“I drove, then walked to the back of the hospital," I said.
He looked at me astonished, shaking his head in disbelief.
“If my heart would have stopped, would you have been able to get it going again?” I asked.
“No” he replied. “You didn’t have enough blood to help it to pump.”
Then he made a statement that I’ll never forget.
“I have never seen anyone vertical in all my life as a surgeon with such a low blood count.”
I knew by his puzzled expression that I should be dead in the morgue with a tag on my toe. But God heard my cry and saved me from certain death, and that was how I came to be born again. I was so overwhelmed that I was alive, but knew that I was also spiritually alive for the first time. I asked a nurse what day it was, she replied that it was Easter Sunday morning.
The magnitude of what had happened filled my heart with love and joy for The Lord that I had never experienced before. I wanted to thank Him so I went in my pyjamas to the chapel, not realising that there was a service taking place. I had no shoes on my feet and I didn’t care. I was greeted with a few strange looks, but I was there to thank God. Jesus had resurrected me from the dead on Resurrection Sunday.
I knew it was a physical impossibility for me to still be breathing. I am so grateful to The Lord for giving me eternal life. I ask people if they have ever seen a miracle, and most will say no. I always reply, you have now, you’re looking at one.
Jesus died my death, He took my sin, and nailed it to a tree, He took my death and rose again.
Praise be to the Saviour, for all eternity we will thank Him, for all eternity I will praise Him.
All honour, all praise, and all glory belong to My Lord my Saviour.
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