The perilous pitch knocked me flat black-out on the ground for a moment. As I struggled to stand, I had a freaky and nightmarish vision. Tuck was walking toward me wearing his white practice jersey with the blue sleeves. As he moved in my direction from several feet away, an invisible monster was slicing him apart slasher-movie style. Through blurry-edged vision, I watched in horror as swipes of red blood appeared across his white jersey. Red--White--and Blue--At least he looked patriotic--and in school colors. I began to realize that the serial killer strokes seemed to be synchronized with my own heartbeat. As he developed a sudden case of Terrett's syndrome and yelled wordy dirds, I realized that the blood was coming from me. Like a bad Saturday night live sketch, blood was shooting out of my face in bursts through a hole in the top of my nose (I still have the scar). I covered the hole and blood gushed like a fountain, everywhere. As my teammates stood stunned, I left a trail of blood across the outfield, through the visitor dugout, past the bleachers, behind home plate as someone went to get a coach.
Coach Lentz (real name) a first year coach and teacher came out to help. He was a powerful guy who had started on the Defensive line at Pitt State and held their bench press record. He was also one of our Fellowship of Christian Athletes (FCA) sponsors. He brought ice and towels and told me to pinch my nose and lean my head back to get the bleeding to stop. I told him the blood was running down my throat and choking me and that we had learned in Health/First Aid class not to lean back. It pays to be a good student. We compromised by holding my head straight up and down. If you've ever seen a crime scene drama when it shows blood on the ground where someone has died---Each time a see one of those shows, I remember the pool of my blood behind the backstop that day. He told me he was afraid I was going to bleed out and die, that he was surprised I was even still conscious. There seemed to have been some type of artery or something important severed.
I asked Coach to pray in agreement with me that the bleeding would stop. Had Coach Richardson been there, he was Pentecostal and would have known what to do. But he coached track. Coach Lentz was from a more liturgical denomination if I remember correctly. He asked, will that work? I said yes. We prayed in agreement that the bleeding would stop. I'm sure some of the guys on the team prayed too. It stopped immediately. From an unstoppable flow of life leaving my body, to nary a drip in a matter of seconds. The bleeding stopped.
Matthew 18:19-20 teaches:
Truly I tell you, if two of you on earth agree about any matter that you pray for, it will be done for you by my Father in heaven. For where two or three are gathered in together in my name, I am there among them.
One of the ways that God works is that His Spirit helps us to remember His word and lead us how to pray in difficult situations. In this instance, He brought this passage of Scripture to mind. We prayed and believed it and God stopped the bleeding so instantly that Coach was amazed. A tiny amount trickled out my nostril occasionally, as I moved to a vehicle, but everyone recognized the conspicuous lack of bleeding.
When I got to the hospital, the nurse or candy striper who first came to see me, took one look, gasped, and ran out of the room. A few minutes later she came back, apologized, and explained that the ear, nose and throat specialist on duty was Dr. Shagets, the best plastic surgeon in town. He was about to leave, but she knew that if he saw me, he would take my case and see it through. I believe God worked through that young lady because it turned out that my nose wasn't just broken, the bone was completely shattered. He had to remove all of the broken shards, construct a new nose-bone out of putty and then attach it to the little piece of bridge that was left.
I didn't get to play ball that spring because if I got hit in the face it would have smashed my nose flat until the putty hardened. I've always thought that was funny. Nike came out with an ad campaign using the slogan "I think I broke my face." It was pretty funny. I looked like a giant teddy bear for a few days after the surgery and was able to laugh about it.
Humor aside, Romans 8:28 tells us:
And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.
God did not cause me to get a broken nose. But He did watch over me and work as much good as he possibly could out of that situation. He gave me a supernatural peace and clarity of mind to know what to do. I remembered what I had learned in Health/First Aid class. He answered the prayer we prayed in agreement and stopped the bleeding. I was very self-conscious about my appearance, but I was able to laugh a little bit at my ridiculous nose for a few days until the surgery. When given the option of picking any shape or kind of nose that I wanted, I realized that I only wanted my own. I wanted to look like me. And that was important. My friends who were involved in the accident were unfailingly patient and slow to anger as long as I knew them. I learned the value of friendship and forgiveness. I have always been able to breathe significantly better since having my nose repaired than I could before it was broken.
I was unable to perform at the District solo and ensemble contest and the State Concert Band Festival that next week. It was sitting there watching that I decided to pursue music professionally and become a Teacher.
When we pray in agreement, God heals, moves in our lives, fixes our mistakes and knits our hearts together. Prayer changes things. While there are several lessons to glean from this story, if you remember one thing, remember this: God answered the prayer we offered in agreement.
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