Preacher Woman

In all of the years I spent pastoring in the Appalachian Mountains of Virginia and Tennessee, I do not think I ever had what one might call a typical day. As a Local Pastor, I served three churches and held services at each church every Sunday. When my day started I would have an idea what I would do that day, but frequently my plans had to be revised to attend to an emergency situation.
Five o’clock Sunday mornings always found me in my study praying for the services and putting the finishing touches on my sermon. Today was no different although I had to prepare an extra service – a funeral on Monday. Since my husband, David, had the flu, I had to drive myself over the narrow, curved, roads around my circuit. They could be dangerous, especially since they had little or no shoulders, so I had to concentrate on what I was doing. David had been terribly sick and he didn’t want anyone bothering or fussing over him. “Just check on me once in a while to make sure that I am still alive.”



The funeral was scheduled on Monday night with visitation of family and friends before the funeral. On Tuesday morning I had to meet the family at the funeral home to follow the hearse to the cemetery for the interment. All of this, including visits with the family, kept me extremely busy. Driving home after the burial I thought, ”I hope that David is feeling a lot better tonight and thank God my day is about over.” I was bone tired, mentally and physically. I was using the last of my strength just to make it home.
About eight miles from the parsonage, my cell phone rang and it was one of my members. She was crying as she told me about how their tiny Pomeranian was running across the yard and slipped on the wet grass. Her little body just flipped over, she suffered a broken neck and died a short time later. I could tell how upset Jane was and I inquired about Mike. “He’s not doing well at all,” she replied.
“I’ll be there in just a few minutes,” I told her.
I then called home to tell David I would be a little later getting home and that I was going over to Mike and Jane’s.
I had lost my little Yorkie a few years before and was totally devastated for several days afterward. I was all too familiar with the shock and heartbreak when anyone loses a pet who was like a family member. I really shared their pain while I was ministering to both of them. After visiting and sharing my own heartbreak with them, I had prayer, felt the presence of the Holy Spirit who was there to bring comfort and left for home. Mike later told me this little dog had been God’s instrument in his life to teach him about unconditional love.
Arriving home, I immediately went to the den to check on David. He looked terrible and told me that he was sicker than either of us thought he was. I felt his head, and he was burning with fever. I called Jane and asked if Mike would come help me get David in the car so I could take him to the hospital. He said he would be right over. After getting Mike on his way, Jane called again and suggested that I call an ambulance, so David wouldn’t have to spend a long time waiting in the Emergency Room.
I called immediately and I made a decision to take David to St. Mary’s Hospital in Knoxville which is about 45 miles from the parsonage. Mike arrived and we went and told David that an ambulance was on its way.
David was delirious and began to have seizures. Mike went upstairs to wait for the ambulance and left David and me alone downstairs.


I began to pray in the Spirit and to do spiritual warfare.
I rebuked the spirit of death that was in the room and took a stand against all that was against David and his health. When the rescue unit arrived, I told them that I thought David could come up the seven steps to the stretcher on the ground floor. After finally getting him on his feet, he couldn’t remember how to walk and I had to tap him on the back of each leg and tell him to move his foot forward. In time we made it to the stretcher and the crew moved him to the ambulance. In just a few minutes one of the paramedics came out to tell me that David’s pulse was 224 and asked did I want them to go to our local hospital.
“NO, don’t even slow down in Sevierville.
He has a chronic irregular heart beat and is a heart patient. He needs to be at St. Mary’s.” I thought to myself, “If they take him to Sevierville he will die!”
Mike asked me if I wanted him to drive me to Knoxville and I quickly accepted his offer. It took us about 20 minutes to get to the interstate and Mike stayed right with the rescue unit. I knew David was critically ill. Mike and I talked very little. Mike was concentrating on driving and I began to pray. Without even thinking I began to pray aloud in the Spirit. I knew without a doubt that my God
would deliver my husband from what ever was afflicting his body. I don’t know how long I prayed;
I prayed until I was at peace.
The apostle Paul wrote about this in Corinthians. The Holy Spirit literally prays through whoever is praying. This is sometimes known as praying in tongues. When this happens the Spirit is coming into agreement with the perfect will of God. for the situation. Afterwards I looked over at Mike and said, “I hope I didn’t upset you.”
“You do what you gotta do,” he replied and just kept on driving.
Although my people knew about my Pentecostal background, most of them had never heard me pray in the Spirit. I had tried to use wisdom in service and not cause confusion. In retrospect, I regret being too conservative: the old time Methodist knew all about shouting, praying in the Spirit and having lively worship.
This was a new experience for Mike as far as I knew. His response told me that he realized something very special had happened. We got to the hospital without incident and they wheeled my husband in immediately. Under the bright lights I saw that David was very jaundiced. I told the nurse, “He’s as yellow as a pumpkin.” She agreed.
Other than telling me that he was gravely ill, we didn’t know what was wrong for a couple of days. The doctors discovered that he had a gallstone in his common duct even though he had his gallbladder out a year before. The surgeon had not removed all of his gallbladder and stones when he operated and now there was an obstruction and a raging infection. David hovered between life and death for days.
I called family and prayer partners to pray and stood strong; believing in God for his healing.
Mike took my car back home and he and Jane came to visit the next night. After a while Mike said to David, “You better be glad you’ve got her.”
David asked, “Why?
“Cause she did something a whole room full of Baptists couldn’t do.”
Mike was talking about the prayer in the Spirit.
We all knew what he was talking about. Death had to back off after the Holy Spirit had prayed.
One of his cardiologists was able to retrieve the stone with a scope. David was too sick to have any surgery.
After ten days, he went home for six weeks with several antibiotics to recover enough to tolerate surgery.
He had a long road and several operations to recovery.
God showed Himself strong in our behalf. Mike, Jane and many others witnessed God in action and truly grew in faith.
I will never forget Mike’s response,
“Do what you gotta do.”
In the future I will.