I’m sharing this story of God’s love and power to remind my Anglican brothers and sisters that God is in charge. He’s not only in charge of our individual lives, but in charge of his church as well, including the Anglican Communion.  – Robert Lundy, Director of Communications

It was Wednesday October 15, 2014. Sammy Miller was conducting an after school rehearsal at Woodland High School South of Atlanta, Ga, when he started feeling strange. He thought he had overdone it at the staff vs. students volleyball game that took place earlier.

Around 4 pm, Mr. Miller, at age 33, suffered a massive heart attack. There, on the chorus room floor, Sammy, a husband, father, teacher and Christian, should have died. The abrupt blockage of a main artery, known as a widow maker, brought on the cardiac arrest and, in many people, leads to sudden death. In fact, Sammy’s heart stopped beating. He wasn’t breathing. Using a portable defibrillator, faculty at Woodland got his heart beating again and performed CPR until paramedics arrived.

Doctors at the local hospital removed the blockage but the damage had been done. The capable physicians were doing everything they could but the situation was seemingly hopeless. “A complete disaster” – that’s how dispatchers for the life-flight helicopter ride to Emory University Hospital in Atlanta described Sammy.

Once at Emory’s Mid-town campus, doctors placed him on a bypass machine that would essentially do the work for his heart, and a ventilator that would work for his lungs. They also determined that Sammy would be best treated at Emory’s main campus off Clifton Road.

24 hours after the heart attack, Sammy was on life support. When I went to see him that morning in the ICU he was a disfigured shell of the man I knew. He was unconscious, unable to communicate, and almost unrecognizable. I’ve seen dead people that looked more alive than my friend did. The chances of surviving a widow maker heart attack are between 7 and 10%. The Ebola patients that were also at Emory when Sammy was there had a better chance of survival than he did. One nurse told me that Sammy wasn’t coming out alive without a miracle.

Over the next week, doctors would play a sort of high-stakes chess game with Sammy’s body. It would move first, then they would counter. Rarely, however, was there confidence that he would survive, much less that he would make a complete recovery.

On October 20, a CT scan revealed that Sammy’s brain was severely damaged and that the blood thinners he was on were causing bleeding on the brain as well. This ruled Sammy out for having a potentially life-saving “mechanical heart” put in place and also meant that he must immediately come off the bypass machine. The heart that was dead was going to have to work on its own.

The next 24 hours, Monday, October 20 to Tuesday the 21st were an extension of an already tumultuous emotional roller-coaster. Bad news would follow worse news. One doctor said that every organ in Sammy’s body was failing. But then, a glimmer of hope would come. Signs of life would appear in a seemingly dying and dead body.

The hours turned to days and Sammy’s “dead” heart kept beating. The Bible describes God as “the God who gives life to the dead and calls into being things that were not.” (Rm. 4:17) And that is what he was doing with Sammy Miller in front of our eyes. Some of the nurses at Emory recognized this as well and started calling Sammy “Miracle Man.”

I remember one morning, I stopped by the hospital. Sammy had been in a drug-induced coma and was just being weaned off the sedatives. Everyone (doctors, nurses, family and friends) wanted to see if he was mentally alert. Small signs like opening eyes and looking around, blinking, squeezing your hand, evidence of muscle control, these were the baby-step indicators we were looking for. I could immediately tell when the team of five doctors and nurses came in for their morning briefing that they weren’t expecting much. There was a tension in their bodies and serious expressions on their faces. As they were telling me about how long this could take and their uncertainty about his future mental ability, Sammy opened his eyes.

Before I tell you what happened next, let me tell you this. At the time, Sammy was on a ventilator so he couldn’t talk. He was on a feeding tube and hadn’t eaten in weeks. His body was scrawny from weight-loss and he was extremely weak. I could tell that just keeping his eyes open was a chore. He had been on so many drugs for so long that they installed a direct (PICC) line to his heart in order to administer them. Oh, and remember he had just been pulled out of a 2-day coma. Despite this, Sammy lifted his head in order to get the doctor’s attention.

“Do you want to say something Mr. Miller?” the doc asked. Sammy nodded his head!

“Mr. Miller, can you squeeze my hand?” Sammy squeezed his hand.

“Mr. Miller, squeeze my hand if you are uncomfortable.” Sammy squeezed his hand again.

“Mr. Miller, you just made my day!” Immediately, the tension left their bodies and smiles appeared on the physicians faces. The doctors knew that patients who can obey commands in the hospital have a better quality of life outside of the hospital compared to those patients who can’t respond. The fact that Sammy wasn’t a mental vegetable and could respond gave them hope that he would have a brighter future. I don’t think they, or I, knew at the time how bright that future would be.

On Friday, December 5, 51 days after suffering a widow maker heart attack, Sammy Miller walked into his own home with his wife and young son. The doctors say he is brain damaged but you wouldn’t know it. He plays the piano, sings, smiles, makes jokes, praises the Lord – last Wednesday he was back in the church orchestra playing his French horn. He does have “scars.” Mainly, pain from where the bypass machine was attached keeps him from walking as much as he would like. This and other small problems might get better.

One of Sammy’s chief physicians at Emory spoke at a benefit concert we held. Dr. B., who claims to be no theologian, agrees that something outside of his control saved Sammy. The doc publicly said that he’s never had a patient as sick as Sammy recover so quickly and so well.

C. S. Lewis wrote: “In Science we have been reading only the notes to a poem; in Christianity we find the poem itself.” Science did great things for Sammy and we are thankful for the competent and kind doctors and nurses who worked to save him. But science did not save Sammy Miller. This story is not one of great luck meeting state-of-the-art medicine. This story, or poem, is one of God who physically and spiritually gives life to the dead and calls into being things that were not.

There are many other aspects of this true-life event that speak to the love and power of God. For now, however, I want to focus on this. I asked Sammy the other day what he had learned through this and the first thing he said was “that God is in charge.”

It was interesting that he said that because I learned the same thing as well. Here is what I posted on Sammy’s Facebook page one day.

One thing I realized a few days ago was that the doctors were trying but the situation was out of their hands. DR, B admitted it. It dawned on me that here I am letting my emotions rise and fall on what people who are not in control are saying! Don’t get me wrong, thank God for Emory and the docs and nurses. However, I think it’s hypocritical to know that the doctors are limited in what they know and can do, claim that I believe God is in control, and then base my hope/outlook/sight on whatever the docs tell me. The ability of medicine is great but make no mistake, Sammy is not coming out of that hospital alive without Jesus Christ healing him.

 

Now that’s where I’m looking to. Yes, we listen to what the docs are saying and try to understand but it must be viewed in the light of Gods sovereignty. I know Sammy would agree.

I wrote that on October 22 and in the face of extreme doubt about my friend’s life.

God IS in charge. He is sovereign. No matter what trial you are in or face, know that God is in charge and trust him. Have a merry and joyful Christmas!