Dave's stories

God winked at 10:10 AM on that Sept. Tuesday

2011-07-27T15:33:00.000-07:00

September 2002: A Tuesday morning

Sylvia, my widowed mother-in-law, had heard the tough news just before her 82^nd birthday. Doctors had diagnosed her with a small cell cancer along with the lymphoma with which she already struggled.

It became clear that living alone in the high rise would soon give way to moving in with us, or hospice care. My wife Rosanne, Sylvia’s only child, and I would have taken home, but mom didn’t want it.

Sylvia lived on just a little more than $700 a month from Social Security and an annuity left to her by Bernie. She banked half the money. But the total that remained would be eaten up in a few months at a nursing home. The only other source of funds was what Rosanne and I had set aside to pay the balloon payment on our mortgage due the following summer.

A family friend told us about the Our Lady of Good CounselHome in St. Paul. OLGC is a hospice run by tough, but huge-hearted nuns. Sylvia was Lutheran, but OLGC based admission only on availability, not the patient’s denominational choice.

OLGC had one very intriguing advantage over any other hospice or nursing home: It refused payment for its services. Charity, it seemed, drove OLGC, and a nice endowment from Rose Hawthorne, the sister of Nathaniel Hawthorne.

Well, our hopes were dashed quickly. OLGC had no openings, and Sylvia had to move – and soon.

We found a hospice program in a nursing home, but at a cost in excess of $5,000 a month. Sylvia could live for a few months or a year – no one really knew. All I knew is that we would blow through her money quickly, and soon have to tap our money. Oh, sure, we could have appealed to Medicaid, but I am old-fashioned about this believing we should care for our own, if we can, and trust God to provide.

Hence it was on that September day in 2002, sometime just past 10 AM, I drove west on Highway 36 through Roseville, trying to figure out how this would all work out. As I approached the Cleveland Avenue exit, I said to the Lord, “Well, if there is no other choice, I guess Rosanne and I will use our money to take care of mom, but Lord, you have to provide the funds for our mortgage balloon payment.” I noted the time – about 10:10 AM (I think I could tell you the exact spot I crossed on the exit ramp when I said the prayer).

I arrived home a couple of hours later, and walked into the house. Although I can’t recall it, I am sure I meant to tell Rosanne about my prayer and the decision I had made. But she spoke first:

“Our Lady of Good Counsel called,” she said. “They can take mom tomorrow.”

“What time did they call?” I asked. I had to know.

“Oh, just after 10 AM. Maybe 10 after,” she said.

God had winked, again.

Sylvia praised the nuns for their care of her, although she wanted something to do – they did everything for her. She lived there eight months before her death. The nuns washed her body and dressed her in a beautiful gown, but by then, angels had already draped an eternal gown on her body.

Five winks in one day

2011-07-11T16:14:00.001-07:00

Being broke is no fun. Trusting God for your needs while you are broke isn’t as easy as some make it to be. But when He fills needs you haven’t even verbalized, it is incredible.

Just before Christmas 1994, a man offered me a job as Senior Editor on a new newspaper. The offer sounded attractive, although the base pay was poverty-level. If the paper made money, I could do well, but otherwise, not so much. He told me I needed a 35 MM camera, and that sort of killed the deal. I had none and no money to buy one.

The next morning, a Friday, I stood in the bathroom getting ready to go to Christian Businessman’s Committee (CBMC). I habitually do a lot of self-talk and that morning I said, “Oh man, I hope the dentist knows I at least tried to pay on my bill this year.” I owed more than $1,800, and had paid only $50 on the bill the entire year. This reality gave me a “hollow feeling” in my gut; very uncomfortable.

As I slipped my blue jacket on, I noticed the sleeves were frayed. I looked in the mirror and saw the image of a bum. Seriously. “Well, on the way home, I’ll stop at Goodwill and pick up a jacket,” I sighed.

During those days, I met with about a dozen men each Friday morning at a CBMC breakfast. My Grandfather Axel Olson had been a CBMC founder in the Twin Cities in the late 1930s. At CMBC, we talk, eat, study the Bible, and pray together. I said nothing about any of my financial needs.

“Dave, do you have a minute?” Leo asked after the breakfast. I followed him to his car. He reached in and grabbed up a red jacket. “Try it on,” he said. Yes, it fit perfectly. He reached into his car again, and pulled out a dress coat. “Try it on,” he said. And it fit perfectly.

I drove home with a huge smile on my face, and said, “Ain’t it just like God? I ask for one jacket, but He gives me a coat, too.”

Later that morning, I went to the mailbox. There I saw something that sent my spirit tumbling: a fat letter from the dentist. I didn’t have to open it to know what it was; but I did open it. I saw the writing in red marks across the top. I expected to read, “This bill is seriously past due. We will begin collection procedures immediately…or even sooner.”

Instead, the handwritten message said that the dentist wished my family and me a great Christmas. He wrote off the entire bill. More than $1,800! Tears flowed. I had not prayed about it. What could I have prayed? Certainly not that the dentist would forgive the bill. But God had worked in the dentist’s heart, and He and the doctor showed me mercy.

That evening, Rosanne, my children, I, and our friend Bill drove up White Bear Avenue, a busy Maplewood street. I wore my new red jacket, and certainly, had told them all about how God had given it to me – and about our dentist.

We came to a stoplight, and Bill slithered up between our seats (we had a van, and that itself is a story I’ll tell some day). “Hey,” Bill said as he pushed an object in my direction, “I have this extra 35 MM camera. Can you use it?”

I looked at Rosanne: one of those “can you believe this?” looks. I had never said a word to Bill about the newspaper job or the need for a camera.

On that Friday, I experienced five miracles of this type, but I can only recall these three: but it is enough to know God winked at me several times in that single day.

A coincidental meeting? I think not.

2011-07-01T12:49:00.000-07:00

The description of this blog refers to the book, When God Winks at You, by Squire Rushnell. Ron Bachmann of Georgia recommended it to me. It is only appropriate, therefore, that the first entry in this blog should be about how God winked at both of us.

Other than a Canadian trip as a child, I had never traveled outside of the United States, that is, until May 30, 2010. I traveled to Costa Rica to attend an international conference on medical tourism.

Since January 2005, most of my working hours have been devoted to United States health care reform. As a result, I met many articulate, experienced individuals who became my allies and upon whom I could rely for good research data, and advice.

When I say “met” I must qualify the term. Most often, the “meeting” occurs via the Internet, usually by e-mail. On occasion, it might mean a phone call.

I had met Ron Bachmann at a brief meeting in Minneapolis during the fall of 2006. We did not speak to each other. Afterward, all of our meetings took place as I read his work, and apparently, he read some of mine. A few emails went back and forth. But I saw in Ron Bachman’s work the results of a sharp and informed mind. I knew I wanted to know him better.

So it was that on the third evening of the conference, I left the meetings early and walked to the dining tent. I sat down, sipped on some juice, and watched people while reflecting on what I had learned.

Several minutes later, I heard someone approaching from my right. As I turned I saw two men walking up to my table. “Is anyone sitting here?” the first man asked.

As I began to answer him, I looked at his name tag. “Ron Bachmann!” I exclaimed. He looked in my name tag: “Dave Racer!” he exclaimed.

I flew from Minnesota to Costa Rica. Ron had traveled from Georgia. Neither of us knew the other would be there. Most certainly, we did not expect to meet. Actually, I doubt that either of us had given the other thought. Yet, there we were shaking hands in person for the first time.

Now, you might call this coincidence. I have come to choose another term.

But the story is not done yet, not by a long shot.

During June 2011, I faced a difficult decision concerning my next project. Since it had to do with healthcare reform and using the Internet as a medium, I consulted with many different people, one of them is Ron Bachmann. God winked at me again that day. For I discovered that Ron Bachmann is more than a health care reform expert: He is my brother in Christ.

Since Ron had already launched his own Internet health reform website, he had a great deal to tell me about it. And he did. He was quick to share with me access to some of his own network of like-minded reformers.

But beyond that, Ron shared great ideas with me, ideas based on Christian faith and the Word of God, and from his own experiences. He recommended three books for me to read, including When God Winks at You. (Buy one for yourself. It is encouraging stuff.)

People of faith should be sensitive to these unique incidences (not coincidences), and it is perfectly appropriate to describe them as the hand of God.

If you stick with this column, over time I will be sharing many more stories that are, to me, quite astonishing – examples of how God has winked at me time and again.

While you wait for my next story, start taking notes about your own. I want to read them. Maybe I will write about them, too. Meanwhile, pay attention!