They begged him that they might touch even the fringe of his cloak;
and all who touched it were healed.
Imagine, the sick on their mats at the marketplace need only touch the fringe of his cloak to be healed. Where is Jesus? Has anybody seen Jesus? The whole world needs his cloak.
Most of you know that I had a miraculous healing 4 months ago. I rejected my transplanted kidney that I had had for 20 years, and for seven months I struggled to stay alive. During that period, I asked for prayers, but I didn’t pray for healing. My prayer was that I remember God is with me. Always.
My friends asked me what they should pray for. When I told our congregational Dean of Prayer, Liz Specht to pray for God’s will, she said, No, that’s not going to help me; I need to know what specifically to pray for so I can tell other people what they need to pray for. Liz was insistent, so I gave her some details: I need prayers for breath; I need prayers for the water in my body to shift away form my heart and lungs and move back into my vascular system; and I need prayers for an O+ kidney that I don’t have antibodies against. This information satisfied Liz, and learned how to text so she could transmit her prayers via social media.
I want you to know that the last prayer for an O+ kidney that I didn’t have antibodies against was theoretically impossible; immunological studies had revealed that I have antibodies against 100% of the population.
This crisis began last August with the doctors at UCSF trying aggressively to stop the rejection. I was given round the clock infusions for 3 days and then discharged. Once home, Sarah Lawton called several times. I didn’t answer the calls; I was in no condition to talk and I did not want visitors. But you know the way Sarah works relentlessly for social justice in the national church, and in the world - she’s a powerhouse, and in that vein she was resolute in changing my no visitor policy. I buckled and allowed her to come over. Sarah found me in bed in my dim disheveled room. She sat beside me and said I want to give you my kidney. And then, as if she were standing on the podium on the floor of the House of Deputies, Sarah recited an eloquent outline of the reasons why I should accept her gift.
• I have been thinking about this for 10 years;
• My kids are independent now;
• I am very healthy;
• You are my son’s Godmother;
• You are my sister in Christ;
• In Christ we are one body and I have what you need.
Sarah punctuated her compelling list with this question:
Can you think of anybody more qualified to give you a kidney? I couldn’t think of anybody more qualified.
Will you accept my kidney? Yes I will. And we both cried.
Do you remember when I said, I asked for prayers, but I didn’t pray for healing?
Well, I was healed the moment Sarah offered me her kidney. Don’t get me wrong,
I was still sick as a dog - every system in my body was failing. But Sarah’s offer broke open my heart to the immense love that surrounded me that I didn’t even know was there. I was overwhelmed. The only words I could muster were, I didn’t know you loved me so much.
It didn’t stop there. From every direction, in ways I never expected, again and again, an outpouring of love knocked me over until it seeped fully into my bones. Kevin and Kathy, Michael Clark and even a stranger offered their kidneys. I asked for prayers,
but I didn’t pray for healing because I had already been healed.
We found out in November that I wasn’t compatible with any of my living donors.
To stay alive, dialysis was my only option. During dialysis blood is pumped out of the body and filtered through an artificial kidney, known as a hemodialyzer, to remove waste, chemicals and excess fluid. The bodies total blood volume is circulated through the machine several times during each treatment. Dialysis clinics, at least the two that I’ve seen, are isolation pits with no natural light, occupied mostly by old people who will never be candidates for transplants. Each station consists of a hard, blue vinyl reclining chair, the huge dialysis machine, and a TV. While the blood is cycling through the artificial kidney the waste is shunted into an elaborate plumbing system that’s built into the wall. All of us hooked up the machines have no chance of life without the grueling treatment. Most all of the patients arrived alone, sat alone for the 3 or 4 hour treatment and left alone.
My dialysis schedule was T, TH, F and S. If there were no complications, each session lasted 4 hours. During the 5 months I was on dialysis, I only had 2 or 3 sessions without complications. The truth is, despite all the pain that I suffered, and all the suffering I watched those around me endure, I began to look forward to my dialysis days. You see, I had a group of people, all of whom are from this congregation, who volunteered to drive me week after week, month after month. And they didn’t just drive. Every Saturday Birgit and DD stayed with me through the whole thing. Jan had Tuesdays, Liz drove to San Francisco from Mill Valley on Thursdays. Jack, Judy and Rebecca were all over the calendar whenever I needed them. Sarah got off work early to take the Bart back to the city so she could pick me up. Heather and Kathy spent their Christmas in the clinic with me. I could go on and on. With their love, my friends lit up that dark dialysis room, by their presence I was comforted. And everybody, the doctors, nurses, technicians and patients witnessed it. They told me how lucky I was to have such a huge support network; they had never seen anything like it.
But I wonder if they really knew what they were seeing. During that time, I was just trying to survive. It’s only when I looked back that I recognized not just the fringe, but the entire cloak.
They begged him that they might touch even the fringe of his cloak;
and all who touched it were healed.
+++
I want to change my tack here and give you a few statistics.
• As of April 22 of this year there are 101,662 people awaiting kidney transplants.
• On average, over 3,000 new patients are added to the kidney waiting list each month.
• 12 people die each day while waiting for a kidney
• Every 14 minutes someone is added to the kidney transplant list.
• In 2014, 4,270 patients died while waiting for a kidney transplant.
• And another 3,617 people became too sick to receive a kidney transplant.
With so many serious medical complications, I wasn’t cleared for surgery until mid-March. It was only a week after I was listed on the National Kidney Registry when I got the call from UCSF with the news they had found a compatible kidney. The transplant surgery was on March 21st.
At the end of June I received this letter:
Dear recipient,
Writing a letter like this is difficult to say the least. I’m not sure what to say or how to address you. I’ll just begin.
Several months ago you received the most honorable gift a person can give; life. You received life from my husband Russ. With his death, the past few months have been trying. One thing that has helped me through this transition without him is knowing he gave renewed hopes and dreams to you and your family.
My husband worked in Alaska managing projects like the building of power plants and large commercial retailers. He spent his free time outdoors and with his family. We had a fulfilling life together fishing, traveling, snowmobiling, hiking and raising our daughter. We were always planning our next adventure. As an all-Alaska kind of guy he loved the mountains. Russ made good choices and challenged others to do the same. He had an eternal optimism, contagious smile, and infectious spirit unmatched by anyone. He made his friends and family better people, and he made us smile even when we thought we couldn’t; Russ continues to make me smile. He loved his little girl Ridgely without question. She was seven months old when he was killed in an avalanche while snowmobiling in the mountains he so loved. He was 33.
With his death I grieve the loss of the one I loved most deeply, the one I was closest to, and the man who protected me and made me whole. I shared the ultimate partnership and friendship with Russ. I built my life, my home and my future with him. He was my soul.
While our daughter may never remember her daddy, she will surely know him through the stories and memories of friends and family. Through the eyes of our daughter he lives on. He lives on through you.
My wish for you is to honor my husband and “climb your mountain.”
Sincerely, Kolbey
Here is what I know - by the love of my friends, all living cloaks, I was healed. I don’t think this to be the miracle. It was compassion, and generous love put into action in the manner of Jesus and his disciples. This was not divine intervention - it was good people practicing the gospel of Jesus.
The death of a 33-year old man wasn’t the lack of a miracle. It was a tragic accident
that left a 7-month old baby girl without her father and a grieving wife without her husband.
The miracle as I see it is that Russ may have had the only kidney in the world that would save my life, and he had chosen to be an organ donor. He didn’t die because I needed a kidney. He just died. And here I stand, wrapped in the cloak of Jesus with prayers of gratitude for our remarkable medical technology and the ordinary people who choose to be donors.
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