A night in the ER with Peter

            “It’s okay sis, don’t worry,” The boy said. “Our God gives and takes away.”

This was Peter’s statement on the night of June 21^st, 2012. I was with Peter in a van that belongs to the camp where we both work, being rushed to the hospital in Boone--nearly a half hour away. His twin sister, Arielle, was with us as well and it was clear that she feared desperately for her brother’s life.

            We were headed to the hospital because Peter was in the middle of a very serious panic attack, which was causing skyrocketing blood pressure and confusion about his surroundings. It was 9 pm and night was starting to fall. The sun was setting as we sped over gravel roads, providing a stunning background in juxtaposition with the panic and fear filling up the vehicle.

Besides Peter and Arielle, there were two nurses in the van. One was the driver and the other was along in case the boy started to seize or pass out during the drive. I was there because the sister knew that I suffer from severe anxiety attacks and that I would know what to do.

I had been in the middle of worship team practice in the chapel at camp when the head guys counselor ran up to me and said “One of the guys on staff is having a panic attack. We need you.” Without hesitating, I ran from the stage up to the sound booth where I found Peter laying on the ground, many of the guy counselors crowded around him shouting his name.

I asked the crowd to move and knelt down next to the boy that had fallen. “What is happening to me?” he asked me when he saw my face.

“It’s okay, you’re going to be okay,” I told him. “I just need you to squeeze my hand really tight and start breathing as slowly as you can.

“I’m not sure where I am or what’s going on. I don’t remember falling. Why am I on the ground? I don’t feel right.”

“I know, Peter it’s okay. You’re having a panic attack,” I told him. “Your mind thinks that there is something very big and scary to fear, even though there is nothing wrong. All of your systems are gearing up for you to fight or run away. Your body is fearing death.”

“Lindsey, I don’t feel okay. I can’t breathe.”

It was then that the nurses came to the scene and took over. His blood pressure was 188 over 120, and they knew he needed to go to the emergency room—now. The decision was quickly made that he couldn’t walk by himself, so the head guys counselor and I took his arms around our shoulders and made our way down the narrow staircase of the sound booth and across the lobby.

When we opened the doors to go outside and get him into the waiting suburban, a hundred campers and counselors waiting to go inside for evening chapel greeted us. The setting was tense, silent, and fearful. Campers looked questioningly to their counselors for explanation, who then looked to us. All I could say was, “Pray.”

The half hour drive to the nearest hospital was one of the most God filled moments of my life. The nurses were focused on getting us to the hospital, so conversation was left to Peter, Arielle, and me. I grabbed Peter’s bible out of his backpack and opened it to a passage in Isaiah 40.

      “Look up and see: who created these?
      He brings out the starry host by number; He calls all of them by name.
      Because of His great power and strength, not one of them is missing…
      Do you not know? Have you not heard?
      Yahweh is the everlasting God, the Creator of the whole earth.
      He never grows faint or weary; there is no limit to His understanding.
      He gives strength to the weary and strengthens the powerless.
      Youths may faint and grow weary, and young men stumble and fall,
      but those who trust in the LORD will renew their strength;
      they will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary;
      they will walk and not faint!”

I read loudly to be heard over the tires on gravel road and the nurse on the phone. I wasn’t sure if Peter was hearing me, so I shouted his name. He looked back at me as though realizing that I was there for the first time.

“Peter,” I asked, ”Did you know that this God, the one who made all the stars, He is right here with us in the van? He’s right here Peter. He thinks about you so often it can’t be numbered. Yahweh is with you Peter.”

After a moment of searching the van with his eyes, Peter focused on my face. “I think I forgot about that," he paused. "You’re right… He’s here.”

Arielle realized that her brother had regained lucidity and took the moment to recount stories from their childhood.

“Peter, do you remember when we were little and one of us would cry, and mom and dad would put us next to each other and we would stop? I’m right here, Peter.” It was more than evident in her voice the deep love she shared with her brother. It was a love bigger than growing up together—they were bound by the unabashed knowledge that God is truly the root of all love.

Arielle began praying for her brother aloud and then the nurses and I took turns as well. We prayed for peace in Peter’s heart and the hands of our mighty God placed firmly around him. We prayed for understanding of sovereignty and that Christ’s light would banish any evil in our presence. We prayed for an abundance of mercy, grace, and healing.

I’m not sure how much Peter remembers from those moments, but his body stopped shaking while we were praying. Later in the night he would tell me that amongst all the confusion, he knew that lots of people were praying for him and that it kept him calm.

After our prayer was finished, Peter began to battle with his seatbelt. He was straining physically to turn his body all the way around in his seat. The nurse in the driver’s seat was confused by his actions and reached out her hand to stop him.

 Peter mumbled something about the sky and continued to wrestle his way around. Finally, he froze.

“Look!” Peter cried. “Look at that sunset. I think… I think God painted it just for me.”

There was a sound, somewhere between a gulp of tears and a guffaw of laughter. “He did Peter, He painted it just for you,” cooed Arielle.

“It’s like it’s coming right at me! I’ve never seen anything so beautiful. I’ve never even really noticed the sunset before."

We all turned to see the last wisps of the sun disappearing behind the curve of the road. Arielle continued to choke up.

With perfect calm and the orange sky reflecting in his eyes, Peter looked at Arielle for the first time all night and spoke, “It’s okay sis, don’t worry. Our God gives and takes away.”

Later that evening, Peter made a full recovery and walked out of the ER on his own, a big smile on his face. It was undeniable that God had revealed himself to Peter, a hand of healing outstretched. I will not soon forget the events of that night--for God is good and faithful. To see the work of God is to taste heaven.

“The angel of the Lord encamps around those who fear Him, and He delivers them.” 
–Psalm 34:7