Leaving God, we lose our protection

My life can be divided into two parts - before and after the accident. But they are both - a long and difficult journey of knowledge of God and His patience, grace and grace.

I will try to tell everything consistently. But I will start with an event that has become cross-border in my mind: on September 16, 2015, a jeep shot me down the pedestrian crossing. The blow was so strong that the "bag" was pulled out and there was a large (210 ml.) Hemorrhage in the brain. To make you understand my condition, I will give some medical details.

When a hemorrhage occurs in a brain, a person paralyzes. If 50 ml of blood is poured into the brain, it indicates the patient's difficult condition. If the brain fills 100 ml of blood, the language (and this is in the "best case") can only go about the fact that the traumatized person is waiting for a disability (and, moreover, for life), in which he can neither speak nor read nor write, and will be glued to bed. The result of the brain's penetration of 160 ml of blood according to all standards of medical theory and practice, is the lethal end (and otherwise!). In my case, when the brain was filled with blood volume of 210 ml, any predictions were not that unreasonable, but at least naive, because any hopes (at least for life) were beyond imagination.

When I came to my senses and wanted to get up, I realized that my body does not listen to me ... I wanted to scream with pain, but I could not do it, because the speech was taken and I did not understand what was happening to me! I could feel my brain filling up like a container from a tap, and how the stuff that fills it presses on it. And I heard the voice of a girl who, lifting my head, shouted: "Do not close your eyes!"

I saw a lot of people ... Everyone was looking at what was happening, someone was shooting ... Cork was formed ... It was a few seconds of my consciousness work, during which I realized that I was dying. I felt strongly in my heart that I had quarreled with my mother and did not ask her forgiveness. I thought: how can she be without me, alone ... in this world? There are no more relatives. Only God! This thought pierced my heart with a lightning: there is a God! I mentally turned to Him with the words: "Save me, Lord!" And fell into a coma.

The guy who hit me called an ambulance. It seemed that she was waiting for us around the corner, - so quickly arrived. But for some reason the young woman, whose voice I heard, did not let me go. In a hurry she was mistaken for my relative, without whose permission (by law) the ambulance could not take me. Time passed, the brain was filled with blood ... In a split second, it poured so strongly that from her pressure my brain moved 2 mm, which meant: I'm doomed to be a silent, lying vegetable. "A glass of water can not ask!" - Only the doctor said.

When later I analyzed my life, I realized that God repeatedly saved me, called to me, told me what way to go in order to avoid tragedies. But I rejected all His warnings, repelled His saving hand and presumptively chose the roads of temptations and disobedience.

... My mother in her youth met a woman, a Seventh-day Adventist. After communicating with her mother interested in the biblical Truth, which she told her new friend and my mother began to go to the church ASD. But the seed of God's truth sown in her heart drowned out vital problems, troubles and soon my mother lost touch with the church. However, 18 years later, she realized that this seed is still in her heart and she calls her to where she saw God's truth, and whence she left at the time. She again began to look for the church she loved, listen to the sermons on the Internet, and after a while she asked me to take the tithe of God (a tenth of the income or income) to the church, since the Bible says that it is the shrine of the Lord. But when I heard her request, my heart was filled with anger and anger, which put on appropriate words and objections. This went on not one, and not even two days, but months! And yet, despite the pain I felt and even the tears that glittered in her eyes many times (I was so upset by her!), My mother did not back down. Unlike me, she still worked on Saturday and could not go to church. And I (finally!) Agreed to carry the tithes to God.

Through the Internet we found the address of the church, I came over it and went into the hall. I did not know anyone there, but many cheerfully greeted me, and then I was invited to the group - to pray ... I wanted to cry because I came to the temple, to God, and that I was expected here, I thought. I remembered how in a deep childhood I came to church with my mother ... And much here I was familiar and even pleasant. When they began to sing the psalms, I burst into tears, because I could not restrain tears from realizing the presence of God and His personal appeal to me.

But when I got home, I wrote a story about how everything was bad there and hid what I felt, and how warm and happy I had in my heart! Some inner protest, and still the hope that my mother will say: "Do not go there anymore!" Made me do this. And my mother said what I expected: "No need to go there anymore," but added: "There are other Prayer Houses where Adventists gather. Go there. "

I was upset, but resigned. And my mother (as specially!) Every Saturday asked to carry tithing ... A month later, I began to return to God and mine.

And yet a constant struggle was taking place in me ... In spite of the fact that during half a year I already went to church, gave tithes, observed the law of God, I always did not like something, I looked for shortcomings and criticized everyone!

One Friday I came with my mother. Her sister came up to her and started to talk, invited us to a seminar. Mom was happy, but I did not, it only made me angry. I was always looking for a dirty trick. One of the sisters stopped me: "People who come to church think that everything is perfect, and that the place here is ideal, but it's not. The church is a spiritual hospital, where everyone comes to be treated! "This has a little settled me and my discontent. But I always wanted to look into the future, to know what awaits us, what will the world be like? And at one of the seminars I asked my sister about the fortune-takers: can they be trusted, is the future open to them? She explained that they were, in fact, servants of the evil one. And that God forbids them to address. But I still went to the fortune-teller ...

"Games" with Satan (now I understand this) never end in good. Because leaving God, we are left without His protection, and the enemy of the human race will certainly take advantage of this. God through the sister in the church warned me about this, but I did not listen.

And so ... on the way to work, I'm knocked down by a pack of dogs. I fell down, but got up, shook myself and, overcoming unbearable pain, all in tears, got on the service bus. At work, she told me what had happened, and I was taken to the hospital with suspicion of a fracture. God was merciful - the X-ray showed: it's okay.

This, as I understand it today, was to be a warning to me about the importance of obeying God's instructions. And I really thought about the fact that such accidents do not happen.

Then I had a bad dream. He worried me so much that I told his sister from the church and asked him to explain. She did not clarify the essence of the dream, but said: "We must pray and the Lord will help or forget or live it." It seemed to me not enough, and I again went to the fortune-teller ...

And after a while, walking from the beach, I went to a pedestrian crossing across a wide (4 lanes to one side, 4 lanes to the other) road. After looking around, she reached the middle of this big road and heard a voice inside her: "Stop!". I thought: how can I stay in the middle of the road? And she went on. And again she heard a loud voice: "Stop!". And he was heard not only by me, but, it seemed to me, and people around. They looked at me and could not understand who was screaming. All the strips were occupied by cars ... And suddenly the district was filled with the roar of a car that could not stop ... Thank God there was no one on the opposite lane in those fractions of a second and the driver of the car, whose brakes were refused, was able to taxi there. Instantly realizing what was happening, I stood up, as if dead ... Time seemed to stop, too.

After this incident, I was sure that death was chasing me, and I began to pray seriously.

But a new temptation awaited me.

... That day I was offered a high position with a big salary, an opportunity to travel. Then, on my priority scale, the money was in the first place. I thought that they rule the world. And so I gladly told my mother about a profitable proposal. But she immediately asked me about the day off. I was not promised days off. Then my mother became worried: "So, you will consciously violate the fourth commandment of God: remember the Sabbath day to keep it holy?" "Yes," I answered. "Does not God know how much we need?" My mother tried to reason me, but I stood my ground. "Refuse! she almost demanded. "I have a bad feeling!"

After listening to her, I got angry: "I made a choice - go to work!". And she left without saying goodbye. On the road, she called her friend, invited me to go to the sea, drink beer, smoke, talk about life ...

On that ill-fated day, I went to her and, when I got out of the minibus and started walking along the pedestrian crossing, I was hit by a jeep!

I realized: it was my choice! By rejecting God and His path, His protection and blessing, I chose power and gold ... And paid dearly for it.

But how great is God's love for His rebellious children! He fights for every man until his last breath! When I was helpless, barely alive, lay on the asphalt, I turned to Him with the hope of salvation. And God did not turn away from me.

Mom was called to work and was informed that her daughter was hit by a car and taken to a hospital. Everything, up to a split second, took place under God's guidance: the hospital, the doctor, and the time!

When my mother arrived, I was lying in the waiting room. When the doctors saw the X-ray images and ultrasound results, immediately began to prepare the operating table.

My doctor, a 65-year-old woman, in her own words, has never seen anything like it in her whole life practice! The right leg, the largest muscle of the body, lay completely on the stomach. Hence, the pelvis is shattered. After they put the femur bag in place, they started to head. Shaved my thick long hair: after all, getting even one hair into the head cavity during my injury could lead to death.

I was cut out of the floor of the skull of the left hemisphere ... They did everything as they thought necessary ... and they took me to the intensive care unit.

Doctors know that the first, third and ninth days are critical. If a person survives these days, he is on the mend.

On the second day of my stay in intensive care, my mother went to church, for evening worship. It was Friday night. On the Biblical calendar, the Sabbath day was coming. Mom told me what happened and the members of the church began to pray ...

After nine days of brutal struggle, zealous prayers of mother and church, I survived, and I was transferred to the ward. Mom could not understand what happened to my hands - they increased threefold.

For two months in hospital, something happened to me every day. On the second day in the ward, my right ankled leg ached, which was on the hood. At nine o'clock in the evening the nurse decided to fix the mattress and hit her knitting needle. I had to call a traumatologist. Two hours later, when the doctor came and saw how badly the work was done, he was horrified and changed everything. Otherwise, I would drag my foot for the rest of my life. Today my foot is healthy.

The Lord has seen for me all the best, to the slightest detail! Thanks to him!

God's mercy did not leave me for a minute. People came who supported me, helped to cope with difficulties. One day I asked my mother to bring me a book to avoid getting bored. When I opened it to read, I began to cry: I realized that I do not know the letters.

The doctor comforted me, said that everything would be restored. She explained that all the neurons and tissues in me are deeply damaged. I did not know the numbers, I did not remember anything from my past life. I remembered only the subject of the diploma.

Learn from chemistry and not know chemistry!

Life began anew: with the study of the alphabet, numbers, the ability to express their thoughts. I reacted very strongly to noise, sounds, heard that they were speaking on another floor, neighbors from the top, side. For four months, until a titanium plate was placed in place of the skull, the sounds that came from everywhere were a torture for me. In addition, the absence of 8 cm of the skull is very painful. It was impossible to turn and sleep on my side, for half a year I was lying on my back. When my leg was removed from the hood, I learned to walk anew. First with the help of crutches, wands, then - with my mother, and only then - herself.

Before the last operation, I was allowed to go home. My mother and I prayed to God to prepare me as much as possible, because I heard voices from all neighbors, what is happening on the street ... And I could not sleep.

At the same time the father of the guy who knocked me down called, and asked me to sign the documents. We understood that if we sign, people guilty of my disability can disappear from our lives, and the operation will remain unpaid. We did not have the opportunity to hire a lawyer. We were left alone with God: I, bedridden, and my mother. She fell to her knees and began to ask God to be our Advocate! So we completely trusted the Lord, our Defender and Advocate.

God answered our prayers. The expensive, the third under the account, operation has passed successfully, the further treatment - too. I was given a titanium plate, which usually hardens on the body, on the floor of the head. Through the plate, the blood was pumped out with a syringe for a while. And this procedure, thanks to general intensified prayers, also ended safely.

When I learned the letters, I remembered that before the accident I knew by heart the 90th Psalm. I opened the Bible and thought that I would at least read it, but could not. However, with God's help, I began to read the word, then at the suggestion, and then I read the whole psalm.

The Lord also strengthened his mother, because it was so hard for her to see the suffering of her daughter.

After returning home from the hospital, I was deeply depressed. This threatened my complete recovery, because after the operation it was impossible to be nervous and worried. God brought me out of this state. I began to carefully do the exercises, each time praying before that, so as not to provoke any more trauma, because if the femur bag flies at least once, it will fly out during life.

Read, prayed, thought and thought.

In the summer of 2016, I had a dream: a city destroyed after the earthquake. The line of people who want to be baptized. My mother and I understand that this is another church, not Seventh-day Adventists, but we run up and ask for baptism of us. But we hear the angel's response: "The time of grace is over!". I began to get nervous, resent, shout: "How come? I obeyed the commandments, studied the Bible. And after all this I'm not worthy? Is the time of grace over? " Hearing this question, I lowered my eyes to the ground and remembered how many times throughout life, God really addressed us (through people, television, newspapers) with an appeal to repent and accept biblical baptism. I put everything off. And I humbly retired from the angel.

When I woke up, I asked my mother what the phrase "time of grace" means. When she explained to me, I began to call the church, and ask that they allow me to be baptized the same day.

God is merciful and a month later, on September 3, 2016, my mother and I accepted water baptism, having made a covenant with God. Now I understand that thanks to the accident - a terrible event in my life, I found out what a long-suffering and unconditionally loving our almighty Lord! Thus, by letting Him into my life, having been tested by the test of faith between life and death, I chose life.

Loving God, I appeal to you: so that it does not happen, do not forget Him! And those who are on the way to Him, I call: seek and see how good the Lord is!

... With God's help, my mother and I were able to buy our own housing, which we never had. My health has recovered so much that now, after a year, I can work, although the doctor assumed that the recovery period will last at least three years. I now have a new life, new friends, new hopes ... With God!