This next story may seem like a testimony to the power of God or the ability of the mind to take control in times of need. I will just tell the story and let you decide what your own truth is.
I got a call from one of my agencies asking if I was available to take on a twice-a-week shower for a private-pay client. Private-pay clients are not cared for by the agency as hospice or home-health patients because they do not have a need for skilled care, which must be provided by a registered nurse. People often pay for services themselves if they have the money for it, and the agency provides personnel that are screened and certified, streamlining the whole process of finding a caregiver.
This patient, a bishop in a charismatic church, was ninety-nine and hoping to make it to his one hundredth birthday. The patient had a slow growing prostate cancer and moderate senile dementia. He was ambulatory and would eat with assistance but was dependent on others to help him with his personal care. His wife, while not ninety-nine herself, was advanced in years as well and felt that having someone come in twice a week for the heavy cleaning was money well spent. I called them and we agreed on the days and approximate times for his showers.
The bishop was very fond of something called “slaying in the spirit” in which he would pray over someone very forcefully. The person would often fall down and wiggle around on the floor, and he would stand over the person and continue to pray until he or she was saved. The first time I met him, h put one hand on my forehead and the other on my chest and prayed for me to be healed and for all evil to leave me and such things as that. I am always grateful for prayer, but when I felt he was getting a little too worked up, I stepped back, tripping over a footstool and falling to the floor. The bishop crowed in triumph and stood over me, ordering the evil to leave me in peace and never return. his wife was so pleased that she hired me on the spot. She told me that he was much easier to deal with after he had “saved” someone and that if I did that every time I came, things would be much easier for all of us. The bishop walked me to the door after the visit and told me I was welcome to come for prayer any time.
The next week I came over and after I was “saved,” I offered to help the bishop get cleaned up, and he said that would be fine. I went into his bedroom where his wife had all his clothes laid out, and she showed me the bathroom, where everything else I would need was laid out as well. The shower went of without a hitch and I was out of there in forty-five minutes even with the prayer.
The bishop and I got to know each other, and his wife would often run to the store while I was there. The only thing she insisted upon was that the bishop “save” me in the house. One time the bishop can out on the front porch to meet me and began to slay me right there. His wife came out and said “Bishop, take him inside; we don’t want to trouble with people thinking you hurt him or something!”
Another time we were just finishing up my getting saved when the nurse from the agency mad a visit to see how things were going. A lot of people don’t realize that nurse assistants must have a registered nurse supervising them even though they are certified by the state. And even there was no need for a nurse, one had come to make a care plan for me to follow and to do a periodic evaluation, as the patient’s condition could change at any time, and he could become a home-health or hospice patient.
Anyway, I was on the floor with my eyes closed looking real peaceful and saved, and I herd, “Bishop, please stop and let Peter get up.” I opened my eyes and looked at the doorway, where the RN was putting down her bag and striding toward us prepared to defend her aide!
I caught her eye and said quietly, “It’s okay. The bishop saves me every time I come over, and then I help him with his shower.
The nurse immediately stopped her intervene-in-a-crisis mode, lowering the volume of her voice several levels. The bishop’s wife came in, and they went over to the table to review the care plan for additions or changes. The bishop finished up with me and then we went into bedroom for his shower. The nurse came in and told me that I was to let the agency know of any unusual behavior the patient exhibited, and I told her that slaying people in the Spirit was not unusual for a bishop. She told me that when she comes into a home and finds her aide on the floor it is unusual and that she did not want any more surprises. I apologized and said that I should have let the agency know the bishop was slaying me, and she accepted my apology. Things went along like clockwork for weeks, me getting slayed in the Spirit and the bishop getting his shower… until the miracle happened.
One afternoon when I drove up to the house, the bishop was sitting in his favorite chair on the porch and the Crown Victoria his wife drove was parked in the yard with two of it’s wheels on the lawn and two on the driveway and the motor running. The driver-side door was open, and the tape deck was playing some gospel music the bishop loved. I walked up and looked into the big Vickie and then reached in and turned off the motor and closed the door. The bishop rose to meet me and began to praise God and speak the ministry that he loved and was so good at. I asked him where his wife was and he said she was out. I asked him who was with him, and he said, “My lord Jesus Christ is with me always.” I tried the front door, and it was locked, so I asked the bishop if I could open the door. He said, “Yes, please do; I have to use the bathroom.” I got the keys from the car and opened the door.
While the bishop went to the bathroom, I looked around and saw that there was nobody else in the house. I wondered why the bishop’s wife had left the car and the bishop alone. I began to get worried and went over to the phone to call the agency to get them involved, and then I noticed red flashing lights out in front of the house….
This is an excerpt from one of the stories I share in my book “I’m Here for the Bath” You can buy my book from Balboa Press, Barnes & Noble, Ammazon or your favorite online bookseller. Peter