They were coming for me again!
I was tied down to a bed, with shackles on my wrists. I broke out in sweat. I struggled so hard to get free that the shackles dug into my skin.
I heard them talking quietly, but it was so dark I couldn’t see them. Then they entered the room. My anxiety went through the roof!
Two of them held me down. Then the third person, the one I feared most, the one with the knife, approached my bed and did unspeakable things to me. It hurt so bad, I couldn’t even scream.
Where was my husband? Where were my sons? They could have rescued me from these vile people! But they never came.
After it was over, I lay there, tears streaming down my face. A small reprieve, but I knew they would be back. They always came back.
If they didn’t come at me with the knife, they tortured me in other ways.
I thought this was my life now.
Alone.
Tied down and tortured.
No friend or family to help me.
At one point, I heard a person whisper to somebody that there was a detective in the house, following up on rumors that a man was slipping into my room at night and raping me when I was drugged.
The only prayer I could manage on occasion was “God help me!” And that not very often. I thought He had abandoned me, too.
Unending pain. Unbearable loneliness. And where was God? I was hopeless.
Those were hallucinations.
I didn’t know it at the time. I thought it was real life. MY LIFE!
Whether it was the hematoma on my brain from an unknown person hitting me on my head (NOT a hallucination) or a bad UTI that went unnoticed and untreated, something caused the hallucinations.
The pain was very real, but it was from my recent surgeries and the large wound where my hip should have been. The torturers were nurses, trying to do their job.
The loneliness was very real, because my family could not visit me, due to the covid pandemic.
From stories told to me later, I was apparently acting crazy. For example, I called my sister Patti in Oklahoma in the dead of night to tell her to contact my son Dane and tell him I overheard a plot to kidnap my grandchildren and take them to South Carolina. There were other crazy things.
When I came to myself, nurses were removing my restraints (my handcuffs). I was so relieved that I was in the hospital and not in the clutches of kidnappers who tortured me.
But the thing that made me most understand the state I was in: A few days after I came to myself, an older, very caring nurse came back to work after several days. She treated me so kindly all day. That evening, she was going over her patient roster. When she came to my name, she looked at me and said, “You’re not Karen DeLoach!” I said, “Yes, I’m Karen DeLoach.” She said insistently, “NO! You are NOT Karen DeLoach!” I thought to myself, Oh, no! It’s happening again!
Then she started laughing and said, “I didn’t recognize you! All week long, I’ve been praying, asking God to not make me have to work with that horrible Mrs. DeLoach again! You scared me!”
I laughed and said, “Yes it’s me.” She hadn’t recognized the mild, laidback woman in front of her.
My point: All during that time, I couldn’t feel God’s presence. I couldn’t pray. I thought He forgot me.
The ONLY thing that got me through during that time was people and family praying for me. I didn’t know during the hallucinations that anybody cared or was praying for me.
But when I came to myself, I realized that people were praying, and God was listening.
At some point down the road, I was able to pray again. It still felt like my prayers weren’t going past the ceiling. But I knew I had to go by faith, not feelings.
And eventually, I could sense God’s sweet presence.
It has been a long haul. After six surgeries, my right leg is twisted and unmovable. I need help to sit up and get into my wheelchair, I still have osteomyelitis (infection in the bone),
But God has been so good to me, in so many ways. The prayers of believers and their encouragement have kept me going these last six years. God has put in me such a love for Him and His Word that grows every day
I have peace. I’m grateful. I feel God’s love daily. He has never forsaken me.
Those who have interceded in prayer for me are precious to my heart. I probably wouldn’t have made it if not for the intercessory prayers of believers.
So, I tell myself and want to tell others. You do not always know what is going on in a person’s life, but your prayers are felt. Especially when you are helpless and can’t pray for yourself.
Be an intercessor! You may be helping to save someone’s life.
And I will intercede for you.
To God be the glory!
Karen DeLoach Life Moments 