90 Minutes in Heaven_ A True Story of Death & Life - Don Piper [31]
“It’s not your call.”
I stared back, shocked at his words.
“You’ve spent the better part of your life trying to minister to other people, to meet their needs, to help them during times of difficulty and tragedy and—”
“I . . . I’ve tried to—”
“And now you’re doing a terrible job of letting these people do the same thing for you.” I’ll never forget the next sentence. “Don, it’s the only thing they have to offer you, and you’re taking that gift away from them.”
Not ready to surrender, I protested and tried to explain. He interrupted me again.
“You’re not letting them minister to you. It’s what they want to do. Why can’t you understand that?”
I really didn’t get the impact of his words, but I said, “I appreciate them, and I know they want to help. I think that’s very fine and everything but—”
“But nothing! You’re cheating them out of an opportunity to express their love to you.”
His words shocked me. In my thinking, I was trying to be selfless and not impose on them or cause them any trouble. Just then, his words penetrated my consciousness. In reality, I was being selfish. There was also an element of pride there—which I couldn’t admit then. I knew how to give generously to others, but pride wouldn’t let me receive others’ generosity.
Jay didn’t let up on me. After all, I was a completely captive audience. He stayed at me until he forced me to see how badly I distanced myself from everyone. Even then I found additional excuses, but Jay wore me down.
“I want you to let them help you. Did you hear me? You will allow them to help!”
“I can’t—I just can’t let—”
“Okay, Don, then if you don’t do it for yourself, do this for me,” he said.
He knew I’d do anything for him, so I nodded.
“The next time anyone comes in here and offers to do something—anything, no matter what it is—I want you to say yes. You probably can’t do that with everyone, but you can start with just one or two people. Let a few of the people express their love by helping you. Promise me you’ll do that.”
“I’m not sure I can.”
“Yes, you can.”
“I’ll try, but that’s just not me.”
“Then make it you.” His gaze bored into me. “Do it!”
I’m amazed now as I think of Jay’s patience with me. His voice softened, and he said, “Just try it for me, would you? You have to get better at this. Right now you’re not doing very well. This is one of the lessons God wants you to learn. You’re going to be hurting a long time. It’ll feel longer if you keep on refusing help.”
“Okay,” I said, unable to resist any longer.
I promised. I didn’t think he would leave until I did.
My first reaction had been irritation, maybe even anger. I thought he had stepped over the line, but I didn’t say that. After he left, I thought about all the things he had said. Once I overcame my anger, my pride, and my selfishness, I realized he had spoken the truth—truth I needed to hear.
Two days passed, and I still couldn’t do what he asked.
On the third day, a church member popped into my room, greeted me, and spent about five minutes with me before he got up to leave. “I just wanted to come by and check on you and see how you were doing,” he said. “You’re looking good.”
I smiled; I looked terrible, but I didn’t argue with him.
He stood up to leave. “Is there anything I can do for you before I go?”
I had my mouth poised to say the words, “No, thank you,” and an image of Jay popped into my mind. “Well, I wish I had a magazine to read.”
“You do?” He had the biggest grin on his face. “Really?”
“I think so. I haven’t read one in a while—”
“I’ll be right back!” Before I could tell him what kind, he dashed out the door so fast it was like a human blur. He had to go down twenty-one floors, but it seemed as if he were gone less than a minute. When he returned, he had an armload of magazines. He was still grinning as he showed me the covers of