Letting Go

Paula’s Story-Part 3

Warning to reader: This story contains graphic details about sickness and death.

In the summer of our third year of marriage, something strange occurred. A black spot appeared on the side of Ken’s pointer finger, which caused excruciating pain. The pain was so great that I took him to the emergency room. The doctor did not know what the spot was and sent him home with some pain medication and antibiotic. During the week the spot grew larger.

When I took him to the hospital for his regular dialysis treatment, I told his doctor that I was not picking him up. I wanted Ken admitted into the hospital and have a specialist look at the finger. The news from the specialist was shocking; it was gangrene. At this point, the blackness had spread to halfway down his finger, and so his finger was amputated the next day.

Two days later, he had a black spot on three other fingers. Those fingers were also amputated. A week later he had two more fingers removed. The gangrene spread from his fingers into his hands. Another surgery was scheduled to remove both of his hands.

On the day of Ken’s operation, my mother Pauline, was in Chesapeake getting her car detailed. Out of the blue, God spoke to my mother and told her, “Go to Paula right now!”

Pauline told the mechanic, “I need to leave. I need to be with my daughter.”

The mechanic replied, “The paint on your car is still wet.”

“I don’t care!” retorted Pauline, “I have to be with my daughter!”

Pauline drove from Chesapeake to the hospital in Norfolk, making amazing time because the traffic lights were all green. She arrived in the waiting room and sat next to Paula.

Just moments after my mother’s arrival, the nurse called me into the back room to speak with the doctor. Mother went with me as the doctor updated us on Ken’s condition .

The doctor said, “Mrs. Spafard, your husband’s heart stopped and flatlined for about 20 minutes before we got his heart going again. We amputated the one hand, but that is when his heart stopped, so we were not able to amputate the other hand.”

I was furious and told the doctor, “If you don’t get the other hand off, he might die of gangrene.”

The doctor replied, “You don’t understand, Mrs. Spafard. He might not make it through the night, and if he does, he will be a vegetable.”

At that point, the doctor left to go check on Ken. I asked my mother, “Do you think God wants Ken?”

Then I prayed: “God, he is your son first. If you want him, I release him to you now.”

About one minute later, the doctor came into the room and said, “We just lost him.”

I started screaming, “I want to see him now!”

The nurse brought me to him. I pulled the sheet down from his face and said goodbye to my husband of 3 1/2 years.

Ken Spafard died at 4:00 pm, August 14, 1980, a day after my birthday.

He had been in the hospital for exactly one month, and during that time, God did some amazing healings in Ken’s emotional life. Every person that he had ought against showed up or called, and Ken was able to forgive them. He even had the opportunity to share Christ with his father.

Tina’s Reflections

Oh my, this is hard to write about. The last memory I have of my dad was of that black spot on his finger. He told me how much it hurt. It seemed strange that such a small black spot could hurt my daddy so much.

I was not with Paula during this ordeal. I was staying at my uncle’s house in Lancaster, PA, spending time with my mother and her family. Had I been in Virginia at the time of my father’s death, my life would have been very different.

To be honest, there is anger and deep sadness about this event. Our family prayed for dad’s healing, but God chose not to heal my father.

I asked God, “Why didn’t you heal my dad?”

He said, “I did heal him!” God reminded me that in heaven, my father is completely healed and made whole.

One of my favorite verses is: Psalm 68:5-6

“A father to the fatherless, a defender of widows, is God in his holy dwelling. God sets the lonely in families, he leads out the prisoners with singing. . . “

God has provided me with numerous father figures to help me on my life journey. First, my uncle John cared for me. Then many pastors helped me with my life questions and struggles: John Smith and Ross Dunk from Grace Brethren, and Thom Keller and Dan VanVleet from Calvary Chapel. During one of the most stressful events of my life, Robert Reid believed in me. To each of you, I say a big thank you!

To my readers, I also say thank you. Your prayers and words of encouragement are so precious to me. Writing these blogs is helping me heal. Glad you can be part of the journey.

Heavenly Father,

This is a hard topic to write about, but I know you are with me. You were with Paula on that dark day in 1980. You are with both of us now in 2024.

I look forward to seeing my daddy again in heaven, with both hands and no black spots! I look forward to seeing my mother with her mind strong and healthy.

There are sisters in Christ reading this blog who have lost loved ones. They are hurting. I cannot give them a hug, but You can. I ask that you would wrap your arms around them and squeeze them tight. Whisper to their souls that you will never leave them. Remind them of their eternal home where there are no more tears. No more pain. No more death.

In Jesus’ name we pray. The one who conquered death!

Amen

Do you know for sure that you would go to heaven when you die? If not, please watch this one minute video.

Sunflower photo by Amber Kramer