January 15, 2001

Surviving Death
A Grieving Father - A Dying Son - A Witness for Christ
Submitted by Carol Skipper of Apron Strings

Note from Carol: This is a story about a young man that died at Enterprise Medical Center a few weeks ago. His name was George Abbott Jr. The story is written by his doctor, Mike McQueen.

I ask you to stop whatever you're doing and read this story in its entirety... and after you've read it, ask yourself "What if that was me?... Where would I be right now? Would I be in Heaven... or would I be in constant torment in Hell?"

If you believe Heaven is real, then you must believe Hell is just as real. I believe time is short and Jesus will soon return as He promised in His Word. If we are not ready to meet him, then we will spend eternity in Hell.

But we may not live to see the day when he returns, so what if you died right now? Where would your soul go? If your answer is " I don't know" or "I'm not sure," or if your answer starts with "I think," then I must tell you you'd spend eternity in Hell.

Please take a moment and read this and examine yourself. Don't wait too late to pray. Hebrews 9:27 says, "And as it is appointed once to men to die, and after this, the judgement." After you read this, please refer this page to everyone you know.
This is a story that was sent to me from someone who has no idea who Dr. McQueen is. Most of us know him as a very friendly and competent ENT doctor in Enterprise, Alabama. He is a wonderful man who is very strong in his faith. I could not believe my eyes when I saw this.

Most of us in this area have heard about his patient who recently died during surgery... and I have heard he took this very hard. This is the story of the incident from his point of view. Please take a few minutes to read it and pass it along to anyone you think would benefit from his testimony. Get a tissue, especially if you know Dr. McQueen himself! The following is a true story and happened recently in Enterprise, Alabama. The text speaks for itself. Be prepared for a blessing!

Dr. McQueen's Story:
October 4, 2000

"For this reason I kneel before the Father, from whom His whole family in heaven and on earth derives its name. I pray that out of His glorious riches, He may strengthen you with power through His Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith. And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the saints, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge - that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God."
Ephesians, Chapter 3: Verses 14-19

George Abbot Jr. died today - suddenly, unexpectedly, and tragically. He had no risk factors, and came to his surgery with the same calm and humor he had every other day. "Don't start without me!" he said. Today was warm with a clear blue October sky - just like other days we all enjoy.

George and his mother came to me for surgery. Mrs. Abbott had delayed her sinus surgery for 1-1/2 years, but was now ready. George had suffered from nasal obstruction for years, and he too was ready, and he was eager to finally get this corrected. After a long discussion, it was agreed that surgery on the same day would be best, that way they could room together.

On the day of surgery, they were relaxed and ready. Mrs. Abbott went first and had a more extensive operation that went very smoothly. She went back to their room and George was brought around. He was calm and in good spirits. We talked in the hallway and again in the O.R. about his mother and recovering from surgery. Then, off he went to sleep.

Initially, George had a rise in blood pressure that responded to medicine quickly. The operation progressed nicely and was almost finished in 15-20 minutes, when Tammy noticed something she didn't like. Although the monitors were fine, she halted the surgery and repositioned the table to assess George. She immediately called for Dr. Dillard/Schwock as it became apparent there was something wrong.

He didn't have a pulse. How could this be? He is young, healthy, no risk factors or family history of problems. I expected some medicine to be given or monitor checked and everything would be OK - but it wasn't.

Chest compressions, crash carts - I don't believe it! The staff moves with speed and experience into life saving emergency procedures on someone that shouldn't require this! And it doesn't get better. He is given medicines, fluids, and electric shocks with no improvement.

As long as I press on his chest, he keeps a blood pressure and good oxygen level. But nothing is making his heart work. It is lifeless, unresponsive to anything we do. I continue CPR for 10, 20, 40, 60 minutes. I press and I pray, but nothing helps.

After an hour and 10 minutes, we have exhausted everything we know to do and we have no heartbeat, no pulse. I ask, "Has anyone spoken with his family? Then get them where I can talk with them." I was not going to stop these efforts without talking to his family.

The first time I ever saw George Abbott Sr. and Mrs. Jacky Abbott was when I walked into that room to tell them something was seriously wrong. Their fear and grief was profound and immediate. But I saw them both drop to their knees and begin to pray furiously for George and that God would heal him.

I returned to the OR, and as I walked into the room, the staff was more subdued. They knew that there was nothing else they could do, yet it was my responsibility to say "stop." I wasn't ready to do that. He was so young, so strong - he deserves a chance. What if we try one more time?

This too proved fruitless. The head nurse then said "His father is in the hall and wants to come in and pray for his son. Is that OK?" I said "Of course!" There was no way I was going to deny this man a chance to be with his son during his greatest hour of need. I have been with Parker in grave, near death situations and I knew this was where Mr. Abbott should be.

He came into the room, saw his son with all the tubes, carts and monitors, and moaned a cry of pain. He gathered himself and said, "Those of you in here, who are believers, believe with me now!" While I continued chest compressions, he placed his hands on George Jr.'s face on either side and leaned in close. He began to pray the most heart wrenching prayer for his son's life. He pleaded with God to spare his life and acknowledged God as able to do what He had promised. He cried tenderly, kissed and caresses his son and begged God to revive him.

Never have I seen such pain. Through his tears, though, he praised God! He praised Him!

"I dedicated him to you Lord when he was two years old and I thank You for letting me have him, but he is Yours to take as you wish." Said George Abbott Sr. "I love you Jesus, and I praise You, I love You even though my pain is so great." he cried.

As I continued to press on George Abbott Jr.'s heart, I was watching the heart of George Abbott Sr. being broken. I wept and wept. Every one of the 8 - 10 staff who was present was not simply crying, they sobbed at this demonstration of love, of pain, of faithfulness.

George Sr. cried out his request, but heaven was silent. I stopped the CPR. George Abbott Jr. quickly passed away.

George Abbott Sr. had learned only 30 minutes before that his son was in trouble, and now he tenderly held his son's lifeless hand and committed his spirit into the presence of the Lord, giving thanks for what Jesus had done for him.

Again, he gathered himself and said to us in the room that he knows his son is with the Lord, did each of us know where we would be? He said that we were not to be fooled, the end times are coming and the Lord will return - are you ready? He told us not to leave this room without knowing where we will spend eternity as he continued to share the Good News of Jesus Christ over the body of George Jr.

He stopped and kissed his son, his only son, his best friend, and he would moan and cry, "Jesus I love You and I thank you."

After breaking the news to George's wife and mother, George Abbott Sr. took time to console and encourages us. "We don't blame anyone. This is God's will - it is appointed every man to die and nothing can change the perfect will of God."

Through his pain and grief, George Sr. demonstrated a living faith, an unshaken confidence that God is in control, even if we don't know why. He never showed anger, resentment, denial or any other emotion we often feel we are entitled to. He was strengthened through God's power in his inner being. He was rooted and established in love.

What do we make of all of this? George Jr. has received the reward we are promised; yet we are left with pain. A pain, however that is healed through Christ. God chose for this to happen right then and there with all of us present for a reason. Why didn't He have this happen at a car lot or Wal-Mart? We were supposed to all be there to see a living, working faith that is not shaken by the worst of circumstances.

Was that father's prayer heard by God? Most certainly! As he boldly approached the throne of grace with confidence, George Sr. was given grace in amounts that I have not seen. Deep parts of grace and unmerited favor from a God who strengthened him to minister to others during a time of personal tragedy. A challenge to believers to go deeper into that pool of grace.

"To live is Christ, to die is gain." George didn't ask for anything except "Come quickly Lord Jesus."

We saw an example of a father's pain as he saw his son suffer and die, and we all wept. Do we not feel the same sorrow at our Heavenly Father's pain as He saw His son suffer and die, or are we indifferent?

All of us were affected, but how many of us will be changed by what God has chosen to do? Do we long to have the kind of faith that says "Your will Lord, not mine" when life is hard? Are we willing to lay aside petty differences and live one with another with "this love that surpasses knowledge"? Do we realize each day is a gift with no guarantees and we should be about the Lord's business for His plan is the only one to stand the test of fire? Are we aware of God's love for us? Can we grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ? Are we willing to humble ourselves, to kneel before the Father, and spread the Good News of the Gospel of Jesus Christ to a lost world? Or will we serve our own selfish needs and ignore those
around us?

The Faith and Grace I saw today is not obtained with the snap of a finger or overnight. It is forged in the fires of trails and obedience that it might prove worthy of the calling when calamity comes suddenly. And it is a faith available to every believer who will seek it.

"As a prisoner for the Lord, then, I urge you to live a life worthy of the calling you have received. Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love. Make every effort to keep the unity of the Spirit through the bond of peace. There is one body and one spirit - just as you are called to one hope when you were called - one Lord, one faith, one baptism; one God and Father of all, who is over all and through all and in all."
Ephesians,
Chapter 4: Verses 1-6.

---by Dr. Mike McQueen

Double Digits
By Renie Dugwyler

The stove buzzer broke through the late night activities of chopping, browning, stewing, and stirring the fixing of sloppy joes and baked beans. Well, this is it I thought. Maggie's canine ears pricked up at the sound of my voice and mutterings. I flipped the cake pan over and tentatively tapped the lukewarm bottom of the bunt pan. "Dear God, please, please let this turn out."

I carefully pried the shell off. Only half of a semi-circle of brown appeared on our family tradition red birthday plate. I turned the pan back over to find the rest of the cake staring at me like an unhappy slug that was disturbed from our garden. I spent several minutes debating what to do with the mess. Rubbing Maggie's tummy fur with my foot while I fanned the brown creature with the worn pot holder didn't seem to help me think any better.

How could I make this look like a sculptured Martha Stewart approved cake of celebration? It is his first double digit birthday party. The festivities begin tomorrow morning. What to do, what to do...and what's up with Martha's first name being the same as Mary's sister in the New Testament. Hmmmm.

I looked down for help from Maggie but she had fallen back asleep. You know, that funny upside-down belly-up way dogs do with the skin of their jowls rolled back to the floor, showing all their teeth and all four paws pointing to the ceiling.

"Maggie, how can you sleep at a time like this, it is his first double digit birthday. Are you snoring?"

The ingredients for the second cake lay disheveled on the counter. Cake two, to be served in the original baking ware should be ready in another 27-30 minutes. While Maggie digested the Betty Crocker slug I started to clean up the menu utensils.

"If we hurry Maggie, we can still get 4 hours of sleep." I received a wag of approval.

Twenty-eight minutes later I kicked the oven door shut, my hands still sudsy from the dishes. "Perfect," I thought, "how can I ruin a rectangle?" Well, let1s not go there. By the time I dabbed the last bit of kitchen preparations of love from my brow, I had a much better understanding of why the original chef must have called her culinary delight "sloppy" joes.

I didn't sleep much. Too many thoughts dancing through my head. Will Jake have fun at the party? Will the 6 other tween-age boys have fun? What if it rains? Will the boys like fishing and swimming? Will the cake taste OK? Will they catch any fish? Will they think I am a fun mom? Will Jake feel special? Will the cake come out of the pan when I cut it? How will the boys do all night gathered in our basement for the slumber party? Will I ever, ever get to sleep? Do I have enough food? Half an hour before my alarm went off I finally turned it all over in prayer.

"Lord, you are worthy and lovely to me, thank you for the sweet, sweet gift of Jake in our family. Show your presence in Jake's big day tomorrow--correction, today. Remind me to be more of a Mary and not a Martha today. And God, please make the frosting firm up before I light the candles.

"Sorry, that was the Martha in me. Okay, Okay. You are more powerful than my baking skills and I am not going to worry about the details anymore. Let me proclaim your presence in this special time of celebration. Amen." I could
have sworn Maggie snored a soft amen.

Two hours later we all scrambled into our big blue boat of a car and headed to the lake. God is true to his word. Laughter wafted across the lake as 8 young boys and two little girls experienced the world of scales, worms, hooks and patience on a cool but dry day on the lake's rim. "I caught one, I caught one."
"I caught a rock!"
"It feels so yucky, mama."
"It bit me!"
"Yeewh, smell this!"
"Did you feel his scales?" laced through the air with squeals of delight, wonderment and splashes of "Marco?" "Polo!"

A matinee movie with the big boys produced only one casualty. A loose tooth wrapped in a cherry starburst candy pillow. I smiled inside as I heard several comments breeze out my car window on the ride home. "Your mom is really cool." ")Yeah, she"s best." "Thanks, she can be pretty goofy, too."

After 5 pizzas, 4 liters of pop, presents, ice cream and cake it was time for the fine young fishermen to move to the basement for enchanting moments.

That special secret time. The middle of the night. Time when guards are dropped and dreams are whispered, ideas sparked and jokes tested. When the glue of friendship sets into lifetime memories. I woke several time from midnight until the wee morning hours of first lights. Drifting up through the floor vents I listened to the sounds of memories in the making and I smiled.

God had held up His end of supernatural presences this day. The Martha in me enjoyed the fact that the icing on the cake stayed firm but it is the Mary in me that will treasure the oohs and ahhs and sounds of pleasure, surprise and celebration of life. Jake's life. Experiencing life as a double digit guy. Never to return to single digits again. My first born, a man cub. Thank you God. Thank you for letting me see it, for not being to caught up in the preparation that I didn"t miss it. Not a single digit of it.

Renie Dugwyler
A women of God, a wife of 1, a mother of 4 -- a freelance writer and lover of life's surprises.
Copyright December 1999
rdugwyler@mailandnews.com

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