Wanting to jump the sheep fence
My story begins in the early hours of the morning of January 14th, 1997. I was driving home after a long night shift in the intensive care unit. My three beautiful children were expectantly waiting for me to arrive home and set in motion our morning routine. Eat breakfast, brush teeth and hair, don school uniforms, grab your school bags and packed lunch, make sure your homework book is in your bag and check you have your sports togs. All the things’ kids need to get going in the morning. With all that organised, a final shout out for our dog Scruffy to join in for the ride to school. Off we go!
I loved getting home to my little family. Night shift hours were hard on me. There were tears you shed when no one is looking, times when your all is just not enough. When ‘out of the mouth of babes’ come heart wrenching words. “Mom, if I died and you had an ECG to do, would you come to my funeral?” To this day remembering this, still shatters me. In a heartbeat, I would have given my life for them.
I was working hard to make ends meet. Working longer hours, however, was not the solution. I knew this, which is why I started my own occupational health business. I was trying to gain control to generate a bigger income for less hours. Night duty was a steppingstone in the process.
The light at the end of the tunnel was visible on that morning of January 7, 1997. My business was taking off sufficiently. I had contracts lined up and decided as I was driving along that resigning at the end of the month would put a stop to the crazy hours.
Split seconds after reflecting on my resignation and envisioning my dreams materializing…. Smash! A red minibus had shot through the red light and collided straight into my vehicle on the driver’s side. I can remember the vehicle spinning. The sound of crashing metal was embedded in my memory for years afterwards. I can remember thinking as the car was careering out of control, “I will just lie down.” I lost consciousness. Fifteen minutes later, I became aware of my surroundings. My car was in the gutter on the opposite side of the road. There where people all around me. I was spitting glass out of my mouth and as I raised my hand to my head, I could also feel it in my hair. The pain in my leg was intense. In a raised panicky voice, I called out, “Has anyone got a phone? I must call home.”
Everything moved very rapidly from then on. The police and the ambulance arrived with their sirens blasting. There were many faces peering at me, all talking. I was in a daze. The ambulance quickly transported me back to the hospital where I had just finished working. The distressed expression on my children’s faces as my dad brought them to the emergency room was unforgettable. Anxious eyes fixed on mine, as they ran along next to the trolley, which was being rapidly wheeled by the emergency room staff into the operating theatre.
Broken bones take time to mend and mine was complicated.
I spent a tedious month in hospital and underwent four operations. Initially a plate and nine screws were inserted and then a bone graft was performed. Disastrously, a few weeks later, I developed a septic arthritis, which made me critically unwell. The confusion and delirium eased only after several days of powerful antibiotics. However, the infection was so bad that I had to return to theatre three more times for wound washouts, all under general anaesthetic.
The impact was massive on us as a family. I had been fighting so hard just to keep things together. Now here I was in hospital, hard pressed on every side physically, mentally, financially, and spiritually. It was on one of these mornings, confined in the hospital bed, that my faith wavered. My flame of hope was near doused. I thought, “Lord if we are your sheep, I seriously want to jump the fence. I am so over this, I really can’t take anymore.” This was the moment, my day turned around and God's promise, “I will never leave you or forsake you,” (Hebrews 13 VS 5) became my reality.
My phone rang interrupting my desperate thoughts. I heard my friend Jessica’s voice. “Ann, how are you?” I said, “Jess! I am so over this!!! Honestly, I feel like a sheep that is going to jump the fence.” “Oh, hang on,” she said, “I've just dropped my book on the floor.” I held on while she picked up her book. “Ann,” I could hear her gasp! “Listen to this, let me read where my book just fell open.” It was a devotional book and off she went reading aloud about how the Lord is our shepherd and He leads and cares for his sheep. A whole page of expository writing on the Lord as our shepherd. I was stopped in my tracks. After that call from Jessica, I just lay in my room thinking about that, stunned, and my murmurings ceased!
Hospital is a busy place. Doctors came in, nurses came in, cleaners came in and the breakfast came in. It was the Shepherd, however, who had my attention. I had heard His voice in those pages my friend had read. “My sheep hear my voice.” Nevertheless, I was still so jumpy. Life’s pressures on me were huge and my fear at an all-time high. I wanted to take flight.
At midday, comfort was ushered in like a double dose of pain relief. A second phone call. This time it was Marie, a truly kind elderly lady who I had met at church. “Hello Ann,” she said, “I have made a nightie for you which I thought might be handy. I would like to bring it in.” She continued, “I have been praying for you all morning and I believe the Lord has laid a story on my heart for you. The story is about how shepherds in ancient times, would take a wandering lamb and deliberately break its leg. He would then tie the sheep around his neck and carry it everywhere he went. When the little sheep's leg healed, it would always stay close to the shepherd. I believe, this is you Ann. I had to share this with you.”
How amazing! The lord knew my thoughts, knew my heart and was letting me know. “My sheep hear my voice.” That was lunch time. Marie visited and brought me her handmade gift. Touched by her love and kindness, I wore that nightie like a robe of God’s love and covering.
The rest of that afternoon passed, as it does when you are bedridden, slowly! I had much to consider. Now God is my witness. As the sun was setting on this miraculous day, a third phone call came through.
This phone call was from a mother I vaguely knew from school and church. Our children attended school together and she played the keyboard in the worship team. Her husband was not keen on her church going. He was a man who liked to have his dinner early. Bronwyn spoke quickly and softly over the phone. “Ann, sorry to hear you are in hospital. I want to see you as I have a little gift for you. My only problem is, I must be very quick. I do apologise, but I have to get home to cook dinner.”
Not long after her call, she ran in, gave me a quick kiss on the cheek, placed her beautifully wrapped gift in my hand, waved goodbye and left. I had no idea, that a third confirmation was under wrap. Tearing open my gift, my hands began to tremble as I clasped a delicate thin rectangular frame. Inside, written on parchment paper in beautiful bold print were the words of Psalm 23. Tears began to flow as I read aloud, “The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. He leads me by the still waters. He restores my soul.” As I read that psalm through to the end my fears dissolved, my soul was stilled and that journey of being tied around the shepherd’s neck began. With my faith strengthened, my hope in full flame, my broken leg began to slowly heal.
Ann’s Story