Psalm 34:7

My testimony continues. If you don’t have a testimony, you’re doing something wrong.

Last month my dad fell while trying to get off his boat. The boat is docked, and there is a ladder attached to the dock. He had to step on a stool, then onto the gunwale, and then onto the ladder. He had things in his hands because he hates making more than one trip. He reached for the ladder and missed, and he fell backward onto the fiberglass deck. At the time, he didn’t seem to be injured seriously, but two days later, I had to help him to his SUV and drive him to the emergency room. He spent a night in the hospital.

He had a compression fracture in his lowest lumbar vertebra, and it became extremely painful after the accident. He couldn’t move around, and when I tried to help him by pulling on his arms and legs, the pain was too much for him to take.

They wanted to operate, but he argued with them, so they sent him home, and I looked after him. At first it was very hard, because he would not listen. At one point he fell off his bed, and he insisted I try to pick him up for over an hour. Eventually, I had to get the EMTs to come and do it.

South Miami Hospital did a very poor job. They didn’t bathe him. They sent him home without arranging for care. They didn’t even tell him a caregiver was needed. We got on the phone to his regular doctor, who immediately prescribed a CNA (nursing assistant), a hospital bed, a bedside commode, therapy, and other stuff I can’t recall.

Problem: the doctor told Catalano (the caregiver company) all this stuff on a Wednesday, but they didn’t finish making arrangements until Friday, so we didn’t see a caregiver until that day. They took so long to order the bed and commode, I canceled the orders. Walgreen’s sells commodes, and the bed would have taken so long to arrive, it would have been pointless to accept it.

At first, I specified male caregivers, because he weighed about 250 pounds, and I didn’t want them to send someone who couldn’t move him. They sent a very competent guy who wanted to show me photos of his antiques. Then they sent a guy who showed up an hour and a half late and left 45 minutes early.

I told God I did not want any non-Christian caregivers. I asked him to send only Christians. The next time I ordered a CNA, they could not find a male. I told them my dad was now able to move a little, so a woman would be fine. They sent Adriana, who came every day until he no longer needed help.

Adriana was wonderful. She spoke almost no English (I insisted on fluent English, but in Miami, this is a waste of breath), but she was efficient and patient, she had a great attitude, and she enabled me to get things done instead of hovering in the house. Until she showed up, I could not keep up with things. My own responsibilities and desires were forgotten, and I only managed to cover about 90% of what I needed to do for my dad.

The patient’s attitude was not good, which did not come as a shock. He was grouchy. He felt I was not doing enough for him, even though I was doing everything that could be done in a 24-hour day. I decided to start playing soaking music in the house.

As regular readers know, soaking music is calm music played by Spirit-filled artists, intended to put people in touch with the Holy Spirit. I made myself a ten-hour DVD and played it continuously. Suddenly, the house was peaceful. The grouchiness decreased greatly. It was easier to get things done and keep things clean and orderly. My dad didn’t like the music, but I left it on. Some people find the Holy Spirit annoying.

I noticed something about Adriana. She had that Christian air about her. One Sunday when I said I was leaving for church, she got excited and told me to pray for my dad and for her.

At times he complained that she got on her nerves. I wondered why. Then one morning I saw a Bible on her chair. She had been reading it next to his bed.

My church has a relationship with a big Spanish church called El Rey Jesus, which is pastored by a man named Guillermo Maldonado. It’s in the southwest part of the county. This lady lived in Homestead, which is also down south. I wondered.

One day in the kitchen, I asked her who her pastor was. Sure enough, it was Maldonado. Amazing.

For two weeks, she stayed in that room, hammering him with evangelism. I could not get away with that, but he tolerated it from her. She never let up. It was wonderful. I didn’t have to do a thing. Now she’s gone, but he has all that talk in his mind. It’s not going to go away.

Now I try to keep soaking music going wherever I am. I even play it in my bedroom when I’m not there. Perry Stone says he often stays in hotels, which are used for all sorts of sinful things, and he plays Christian music in the rooms, even when he’s not around. It changes things. I am here to testify that it works. One day I left the garage access door open while this stuff was playing, and later that day, I felt compelled to go in there and clean up the mess. It was different in there.

I am also praying in tongues more. I have come to the conclusion that it’s like eating. You have to do it several times a day. I almost always get it done in the morning, but I have let it get by me in the afternoons, and that’s when other people start to get the victory over me. Tension arises. I begin to feel frustrated. It’s like becoming hypoglycemic when you don’t eat. Now I take time to feed my spirit at least twice a day, and it’s really paying off.

Fred Stone has said that the only way for Christians to thrive in the future will be through “excessive” prayer in tongues. He’s right. Pretty soon the charismatics who aren’t doing it are going to start siding with the homosexuals. When the GPS is turned off, there is no road that won’t seem right to you.

My dad is making spiritual progress. Will he accept Jesus? I can’t say. But he will have every advantage. That’s the best God can do. It’s all I can ask for.

He is coming up on the end of his life. He is 81 years old, and he has the genes for longevity, but he isn’t taking care of himself. He is becoming more forgetful. I have to explain things to him more often. His older sister now suffers from dementia. I think the accident was God’s way of nudging him. He isn’t going to be around forever, and while he’s here, if he doesn’t get right with God, he’s going to be increasingly dependent on other people, and he will cede a lot of his authority. Hopefully, he will bend and get supernatural power going in his life, so God can sustain him and help him remain vigorous and capable.

My sister’s trial comes up again tomorrow, and I think it will actually take place. She can’t put it off a fourth time. Unless the cop she is accused of running down has mercy on her, she’s looking at a minimum of three years in the pen, with no possibility of time off. Not my problem. I don’t worry about it one bit. It doesn’t trouble me; I forget about it for days on end, apart from the time I spend praying. I pray for God to help her change, but I’m not immersing myself in her mess. She serves evil spirits, and if I serve her, then I serve them. That will not happen. God put me here to be the head, not the tail. He also wrote, “Thou shalt worship the Lord thy God, and him only shalt thou serve.” If you’re an enabler, you serve the devil. That’s the bare truth.

They feed people in prison. They clothe them and give them medical care. They let Christians come and teach them and pray for them. That’s good enough. It’s a big step up from her current lifestyle.

This week she tried to get me to drive her around so she could look for a new place. She was nasty and imperious about it. She has ruined the house my dad helped her buy, and he is buying her out. She has to leave. She claimed she couldn’t travel to find a place. I told her I knew good hardworking people who rode the bus every day, and that it was good enough for her. At one point, she started telling me I was going to have to change my tone, but I didn’t hear anything after that, because I hung up instantly.

My dad argued with me, saying I should do it for him. This is how enablers always talk. The addict says, “Serve me,” and the enabler says, “don’t do it for her; do it for me.” It’s the same thing. It permits an addict to enslave several people, in addition to herself. I told him there was no way I was going to do her work for her or drive her around. It makes him angry. Again, not my problem. Go ahead and be mad. That’s on you.

Yesterday we had to meet with her twice to get things signed. This was after I assured him she was capable of riding a bus. The first time, when I called her, guess where she was? A bus stop two miles from her house. She had been buying groceries. We picked her up there. Thank you, God. I didn’t have to argue with my dad. The evidence was right in front of him. The second time, we went to her house. This was after she cashed a check supposedly intended to pay for moving expenses. While we were there, she rolled up in a cab. She had taken a taxi to buy a Five Guys hamburger.

Too perfect. I keep asking God to cause spirits and people (especially my enemies) to do my work for me, so he will be glorified and I won’t be too busy to spend time with him. Look how he answers. My sister convicted herself. Twice.

I am not an enabler. I have done it in the past, in ignorance. I don’t do it any more. I make people angry. I am told I am selfish. Don’t care. If you are determined to die, I will let you do it, just like God, who will let you go to hell. I will never stop praying for you, but I will not get my hands dirty unless I have a good reason. My attitude about this is correct. I have peace.

I’m hoping to get out of Coral Gables very soon. Now that my dad can sit in a car, I am planning to drive to Pensacola and look at homes. I was going to move without him, but he wouldn’t have it, so we’re both going. That will be great. I can’t stand this place. My church is wonderful, and I love my friends, but there is no other bright spot to living in Miami. The people are nasty and godless. The traffic is horrible. I am leaving.

Keep praying in tongues every day. Think of it as having meals. Your life will change. You will end up on top sooner or later.