That night, around 10 p.m., it begins to snow. It continues to snow for several hours. When the brief weather disturbance clears, about 3-4 inches of fresh white fluff coats the ground.
Early in the morning, I have a very odd dream. There is a snowblower, and someone is behind the snowblower, directing the machine in the way it should go. (For those of you unfamiliar with snowblowers, they have a safety feature. Once the snowblower is turned on, most snowblowers have a lever on the handlebar which must be pressed down in order for the snowblower to engage and move forward. If the lever is released, the snowblower will stop its forward progression; however, the engine will still continue to run. To make the snowblower move forward again, you simply have to pressed down the lever.)
Suddenly, the snowblower stops going forward. I can no longer see the man’s hands on the snowblower handlebars. I hear the snowblower’s engine whine and grind away as it sits idle on the sidewalk. The engine noise is deafening, and it seems as if my head is almost right up against the engine. The engine continues to rumble away for several minutes. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a woman pop her head out the front door of a house. She quickly looks toward the snowblower. I see fear and anxiety flash across the woman's face. In an instant, she dashes out the front door and down her front porch steps. Immediately, I am jolted awake.
I sit up in bed, huffing and puffing. It feels as though I have been holding my breath. My heart is racing, and I can still hear the snowblower’s engine ringing in my ears. I look at my alarm clock. It is 6 a.m. I sit for a few minutes in bed. I do not bother trying to go back to sleep. I have to be up in 15 minutes to get ready for school. When my body recovers some from the dream, I slowly get up and get ready for another school day.
When I arrive at school, I notice there seems to be a somber mood among the teachers. The kids all seem to be happy and boisterous. The educators seem to have long, sullen faces. When homeroom begins, my teacher goes through the regular beginning of the day duties. When these tasks are finished, she stands for a moment collecting her thoughts.
My homeroom teacher proceeds, “This morning, the tech ed teacher was outside snowblowing. Around 6 a.m., his wife found him outside next to the snowblower. He suffered a heart attack while snowblowing. Unfortunately, he did not survive.” As soon as these words escape my teacher’s mouth, she bursts into tears. My classmates and I sit in stunned silence. No one knows what to do.
As my teacher’s words resonant inside me, suddenly the events from the last 24 hours flash through my mind. Yes, of course. My tech ed teacher’s illness the day before was the early signs of a heart attack. The light bulb exploding was a sign that he was going to die soon. My dream this morning was in fact a vision of my tech ed teacher’s last moments on earth. Chills run up and down my spine. Had God given me this insight to act? Was I supposed to have talked with my tech ed teacher the previous day and insist he seek medical treatment? Why had I been so blind? Why had I failed to recognize such easy symptoms of a heart attack? I love medicine. This would have been my big day to save someone’s life. Why had I fled like a scared two year old out the classroom door? Why did no one else see the things I saw? Why had God chosen to reveal so much to me?
These questions still echo through my head to this day. I have no idea why these events happened. I have no idea if I was supposed to have acted or not. One thing I do know, this was not the last time God revealed His plans to me. When these incidences happen, I try hard to pay attention and intervene. I cannot say if my actions have prevented some disaster from occurring or if it lead to some incredible miracle. The only thing I do know is if I fail to move or take steps to intercede, heart-breaking events transpire...and that is the hardest thing to live with.
(Link to Part One click here)
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