When You Witness A Miracle

This week I came close to losing my dad. Just typing that makes my heart ache. Last Thursday morning, October 1st, at around 4:30am I was woken up by my vibrating cell phone. I groggily looked at the screen and noticed I had several missed calls from my brother. I finally got to talk to him and he told me that Dad had collapsed in the kitchen and was being transported by ambulance from our family farm to the local community hospital. I immediately lost it and starting crying, “Nooooo! Nooooo! This can’t be happening. Nooooo!” He responded by telling me that they were still trying to resuscitate him and were performing CPR, so we needed to keep praying. He then told me that the ambulance was arriving and he needed to go, but he’d call back as soon as he knew anything.

I started walking around the house like a madwoman pacing and praying harder than I ever have in my life. “God, please don’t take my Dad! Please God, not yet! Don’t take my Daddy!” I must have been crying pretty loudly because I woke up my three-year-old, Baylen, who came walking down the stairs to see what was going on. My husband, Jake, was out of town on business, and I couldn’t get a hold of him.

In frustration, I tried to set my phone down on the counter, but it slipped from me and shattered on the ground. “NO! This can’t be happening!” I yelled. Not now, when I’m waiting for the most important call in my life. Not now.

I quickly became resourceful and turned on my computer which has FaceTime. The only part of my phone screen that was working was the very top, which showed the phone number of who was calling. I could still see incoming calls. I could use my computer to call him back. After what seemed like an eternity of praying, I got to FaceTime him. The first thing he said was, “Dad has a pulse!” At that point he wasn’t conscious yet, but he was alive.

He gave me the run down of what happened that morning. My dad had gotten out of bed, and my mom happened to hear him. “Did you sleep good?” she asked. “You betcha,” he said. He told her he was going to get a drink of water. The next thing she heard was a loud crash, which was the garbage can that hit the floor when my dad collapsed. She found him unconscious, and immediately called 911 while she simultaneously started performing CPR. Praise God she’s a nurse and was brave enough to perform CPR on her own husband. She continued until the EMTs arrived. My parents live in rural Iowa and and the first responder was a good family friend who lives just a couple minutes down the road. As soon as the rest of the EMTs arrived they loaded him in the ambulance and continued to perform CPR on the way to the hospital. Just before they reached it, they got a pulse. We were told he received CPR somewhere between 40 – 45 minutes. Just as he was finishing up the details, he told me they were getting called to go back by dad and they’d call me back.

Baylen and I sat down on the couch and started praying for Papa. Just like at bedtime, I said the prayer and he repeated after me. “God, please help Papa. God, please help Papa. Please save him. Please save him. Heal him completely. Heal him completely…” Hearing his sweet innocent voice praying for his papa was such a tender moment.

I started packing up and received a text that Dad was conscious! He woke up to a room full of people. They asked him who my mom was and he said, “That’s Lisa. The love of my life.” He knew everybody else too, and one of his first questions he asked was, “Do I still get to feed cattle?!” At that point everybody knew he was okay. I got to FaceTime with him for a few seconds, and was then told that they were going to airlift him to Sanford.

I loaded up the kids and headed from the Twin Cities to Sioux Falls. No working phone, no way of communicating. God REALLY wanted me to rely ONLY on him through all of it!

A dear family friend met me and took care of the kids so I could spend some special time with my parents and brothers in the hospital. By the time I got there, Dad was out of surgery and stable. As I rode the elevator to his room my stomach was in knots. I was greeted by aunts and uncles and friends of the family who were all there to support us. Then I got to see my dad. It felt so surreal. He’s the guy who has always been my strong support and encourager. He’s the guy who taught me how to love unconditionally and how to live out grace. He wasn’t the one who was supposed to be in a hospital bed with cords and wires. But I quickly got over that when I started hearing more snip its of the story. The EMTs gave him a less than 1% chance to live. The doctors said they don’t usually get to see patients in the recovery room when this happens. The surgeon who placed his stent said he was completely puzzled by his case when one of his arteries unexpectedly opened up. The nurse said it was amazing that he didn’t have any heart damage. As pieces of the story kept coming in, I realized that my DAD experienced a miracle.

We got to witness a miracle.

The next day after this happened, my dad was sent home. The NEXT day. The morning before he had been gone for 45 minutes, experienced a heart attack that nearly took his life, and was given a 1% chance to live. And the NEXT day he was discharged. Friends, only GOD works like that. Only God creates our bodies in a way that every rib can be crushed so that the heart can be saved.

I sit here today and it’s tough to know how to process all of this. Why did this happen? What’s my role in his recovery? How can I support my mom? Is she really okay? Where do we go from here? 

I’m guessing the questions will remain for a while.

But what I KNOW, is that the most important piece in all this is what we do with the miracle. None of this happened by mistake. It didn’t happen to scare us or leave us fearful of the future. It happened because this life is about making GOD famous. It’s about making HIS GOODNESS known. It’s about shouting from the rooftops that Jesus is Lord and that our Heavenly Father has the ENTIRE world in His hands.

When you witness a miracle, you can’t HELP but RUN to the One who performed it and tell everybody else to RUN to Him too.

And you know what’s WILD, guys? Miracles happen ALL THE TIME. Sometimes on a big scale like this, but oftentimes in the daily moments of life. God’s always there, fighting for our lives.

So today, as I sit here and REJOICE about the miracle that was performed on my dad, I pray that it would only cause all of us to look for the miracles happening constantly. That we would treasure each and every moment we get on earth with our loved ones, because the Lord gives and the Lord takes away. BLESSED be the name of the Lord. God is good. ALL the time. ALL the time. He is good.

Thank you to all of you who have supported our family through this. Your prayers, texts, calls, visits, meals, and encouragement has filled our hearts with peace. We are forever grateful.

XOXO,

Amber & The Brian Hofmeyer Family

P.S. For more reflections on parenthood and life, follow us on Facebook (Hun Let’s Run) and on Instagram: @ambermariekuiper and @jakekuiper! We’d also love for you to subscribe to our Hun, Let’s Run Podcast! For more info about joining our fitness community as a customer or coach, please email us at amber@mommysmetime.com!