Teresa Hirst

The Question: Have I Seen the Hand of God Reaching Out to Touch Us Today?

When my husband called on his cell phone and said, “I’m hurt,” I didn’t believe him.

I said, “No, not really.”

Paul sounded so much like himself—in good humor, even tone of voice, cheerful.

But then I heard the sirens in the background and asked, “Is that for you?”

When he said “Yes,” then I knew he was really hurt. Fortunately, someone else got on his phone and explained what had happened. Apparently, a tree that he was cutting split down the middle and hit him, and he was on the ground unable to move.

The time between that call and seeing him in the emergency room was the most agonizing part of the entire accident. What were the extent of his injuries? Was he critical? Did he hit his head? What about his back? Would he be able to walk again?

When I saw him faith and courage reassured me that those questions would be answered and I would be able to cope with what I would hear. When I could touch his face and talk to him, I felt hope, not fear.

Ironically, three hours before his accident I watched The Infinite Power of Hope. When the events of the accident unfolded, these words must have planted themselves in my heart.

Hope is one leg of a three-legged stool, together with faith and charity. These three stabilize our lives regardless of the rough or uneven surfaces we might encounter at the time. . . . Hope sustains us through despair. Hope teaches that there is reason to rejoice even when all seems dark around us.

Pres. Dieter F. Uchtdorf

Last week was all about me, and I’m embarrassed to say that even though the challenges I faced were real and discouraging, they were nothing compared to what happened to Paul or even what could have happened but didn’t.

His accident put everything in perspective, giving me a new measuring stick for worry and concern. I’ve found myself asking, “Is this as bad as what could have happened?” If not, I breathe a little deeper, allow myself to seek hope rather than worry and despair.

My natural impulse to magnify the negative is gone, but even more importantly, I seem to have replaced it with an ever-growing list of positives:

1. It could have been a whole lot worse.
2. His sense of humor never left him.
3. He calmed everyone around him.
4. Our family is pulling together, and I love him more than ever.
5. The nurses and doctors at the hospital were informative and compassionate.
6. I had just finished cleaning the house.
7. His business partner has been fabulous about filling in for him.
8. Many, many prayers were offered, and the phone calls, cards, visits and remembrances helped me know how much he’s loved.
9. His iPhone helped him feel connected to the outside world.
10. My children are old enough to manage themselves while I play nurse.