by Katherine Haney Williams
God speaks to us in many ways
including dreams, poetry, music, and strangers.
My sweet father-in-law died
peacefully at his home on Tuesday morning, August 14, 2007, from emphysema. He constantly used an oxygen tank and did not
leave his home for the last eleven months of his life. For the last four months, his three adult
children lovingly cared for him twenty-four hours a day.
On Wednesday evening, April 25,
2007, his condition worsened; and we thought we were losing him. He was having so much trouble breathing. He chose not to go to the hospital or to the
doctor since treatment would only prolong his suffering rather than “heal” him. The thought of losing him and not spending
one more day with him was heartbreaking; but he was ready to go to heaven, and
he wanted to die at home.
When he got a little better that
evening, my husband and I returned home; and I went to bed around 1:00
a.m. At 3:50 a.m., I was awakened by a
loud noise similar to a short ring of the telephone. My husband did not move a muscle nor indicate
that he had heard anything. I had been
dreaming about my father-in-law, and I thought it was important to continue the
dream. I thought the dream was going to
help my father-in-law in some way. I
quickly went back to sleep and could see a page full of words. In the middle of the page, there was a fancy
border around a paragraph of words in a pretty font. I tried hard to focus and read that paragraph. I could only read a name at the beginning of
the paragraph.
I woke from the dream, got out of
bed, wrote the name “Leslie Boohler” on a napkin near my bed, and went back to
sleep. My clock radio woke me at 6:30
a.m. (April 26) playing “One More Day” which was played during my daddy’s
funeral service five years earlier on May 6, 2002. I did not hear the DJs on the radio. I heard the song from the very first note.
“One More Day”
by Diamond Rio
Last
night I had a crazy dream.
A
wish was granted just for me.
It
could be for anything.
I
didn't ask for money
Or a
mansion in Malibu.
I
simply wished for one more day with you.
One
more day, one more time
One
more sunset, maybe I'd be satisfied.
But
then again I know what it would do -
Leave
me wishing still for one more day with you -
One
more day.
First
thing I'd do is pray for time to crawl.
I'd
unplug the telephone
And
keep the TV off.
I'd
hold you every second -
Say
a million I love yous.
That's
what I'd do with one more day with you.
One
more day, one more time
One
more sunset, maybe I’d be satisfied.
But
then again I know what it would do -
Leave
me wishing still for one more day with you -
One
more day, one more time
One
more sunset maybe I’d be satisfied.
But
then again I know what it would do -
Leave
me wishing still for one more day
Leave
me wishing still for one more day
Leave
me wishing still for one more day with you
One
more day…One more day…
I got out of bed and searched unsuccessfully
in the local phone directory for “Leslie Boohler” in the white pages and then
in the yellow pages in the section for physicians. After work that evening, I unsuccessfully
searched the Internet.
Two days later, I told my sister
about my dream; and she suggested that the person might have written a
poem. I had poems posted on an Internet
website. I immediately searched the site
for Leslie Boohler, but I did not find the name. Then, I searched for just the first name of
Leslie; and I found “Leslie Booker” with a poem titled “Healing.” The poem was posted with a pretty font
surrounded by a fancy border . . . just as the words in my dream.
Leslie
Booker “Healing”
Journey on an unknown path. Many twists and turns. Still the heart yearns for a place of
rest. Promises made - promises broken. Things of the heart still unspoken. Cause us to stop along the way. A voice within gently stirs us. Again and again we hear it say, “Come unto me
and rest.” Put me to the test. Lay your burdens down and journey on.
The “Healing” poem seemed to tell
me and my family that my father-in-law was ready for rest in heaven and that we
should let him know how much we loved him.
I searched further to see if Leslie Booker had posted other poems, and I
found a poem titled “Chaos.” “Chaos”
reminded me of my father-in-law’s struggle to breathe due to the emphysema and
his use of an oxygen tank with its long, sometimes tangling tube that coiled
and circled by his bed. This was his
lifeline that allowed him to move slowly to other rooms in his home.
“Chaos”
by Leslie Booker
Whirling, twirling,
swirling.
Winning, spinning,
sinning,
Coils of torment
Circling faster.
Twining, binding,
Tangling, strangling,
Wrapping, trapping.
Cords bind tighter.
Breathing's lighter.
Air grows scarcer.
Light now dimmer.
Darkness hovers.
Pulls the covers.
I only know Leslie Booker from
his or her two poems on the website. I
wish this person could know how the poems helped my family during a difficult
time. I have unsuccessfully tried to
locate Leslie Booker.
My daddy was a dedicated
Christian. He died at home in the
country on May 4, 2002. My sister and I
stood on each side of his bed the day before he died, and we briefly heard
“angel music.” We heard the music at the
same time, looked at each other, and immediately looked outside. There was nothing visual to explain the
music. Our mother in the kitchen and our
brother in the next room did not hear the music. We are convinced that Daddy
had angels watching and waiting for him.
My sister suggested that my dream
on April 26, 2007, might have been leading me to someone who had written a poem;
because my sister’s daughter “dreamed” a poem the night before our daddy’s
funeral. My niece wrote the poem down in
the middle of the night and gave the poem to the minister before the funeral
service began. The minister was stunned. He always read a poem at funeral services,
but he had not found a poem appropriate for my daddy. The minister prayed and asked God to provide
a poem. My niece’s poem was the answer
to his prayer. Her poem was perfect for
her granddaddy’s service. He was known
lovingly by his grandchildren and great-grandchildren as “D.”
“The
Shortest Name”
In memory of
Robert Hardy Haney (1923-2002)
by Amy Shepard
Stanfill
Everyone knows how it started,
Though we don’t really know why.
It is the shortest name,
But it seemed to fit just fine.
And for over thirty years, it has been spoken every day,
Mostly with a laugh, maybe a cry, even a sigh;
But the shortest name never grew hard to say…
Until today.
As we speak it now, it will forever remain
Not only the shortest name,
But the sweetest name in every way.
“D” – We will always love and miss you.
Written
May 6, 2002
I truly believe that God speaks
to us in many ways including dreams, poetry, music, and strangers. I wrote these memories in loving memory of my
daddy, Robert Hardy Haney, of Jackson, Tennessee, and my father-in-law, Connie
Marshall Williams Jr., of Lexington, Tennessee.
I hope my memories will help others in times of sadness and loss of
loved ones.
I wrote this story on August 31,
2007; and it was published by Main Street Publishing in 2010 in a book titled The
Talent Among Us, Vol. X – Paradox.
~ ~
~ ~ ~ ~
Early on the morning of Sunday,
May 24, 2015, I searched again for Leslie Booker; and I was thrilled to find
her on Facebook as The Reverend Leslie L. Booker, author of Psalms for the
21st Century, a book of religious, spiritual, and inspirational
poetry based on her spiritual experiences.
I then found her book listed on Amazon, and I was pleased to see
“Healing” and “Chaos” in the table of contents.
I knew I had found the Leslie Booker who wrote the special poems that have
meant so much to me since 2007.
She and I connected through
e-mails on May 30, 2015; and I shared my story with her. We live in different cultures with her an
African-American from the northern United States and me a Caucasian from the
southern United States, but we have a common bond as she has posted on
Facebook: “We are all linked as one by
our Creator.” Her message to me follows.
Dear Kathy
Williams,
What a
blessing to receive your email and testimony of how God led you to my poems and
blessed you and your family through them! I will share your story today in a
workshop I am doing on The Holy Spirit and the many gifts he gives us. I will be emphasizing the variety of gifts
that we have and don't always recognize. God used your email to validate my focus today
and the many promises He has made to me about Psalms for the 21st
Century. He has promised me that it
will circulate the globe and minister to many in the process. Once again, He has shown me that there is no
limitation to how this will be accomplished and that it is not dependent on me
but on Him. I enjoyed your story as I
read it and hope you will continue to share with others how God answers prayer
and how he uses dreams, poetry, music and other mediums as vehicles to bless
us. I look forward to our continued communication as we share our
journeys. May God continue to bless you
as you follow His leading.
Rev. Leslie L.
Booker
We each must face the reality of
losing loved ones. I watched my 89-year-old
mother suffer after a fall on January 6, 2016.
At first, I prayed for healing; but her condition worsened, and I had to
pray for peace for her to end her suffering until her death on January 26.
My mother’s favorite Bible verse
was Philippians 4:1 – For I can do
everything God asks me to with the help of Christ who gives me the strength and
power. Her final days were
strengthened through God’s love and through her family staying by her bedside
to give comfort, to sing hymns and her favorite songs, and to tell her that she
was loved.
On her final night, the lovely sound of her granddaughter-in-law singing was surely a blessing to her and to others in the palliative care unit as the nurses asked us to keep the door open for others to listen. The music floated down the hallway as if being carried on the wings of angels.
On her final night, the lovely sound of her granddaughter-in-law singing was surely a blessing to her and to others in the palliative care unit as the nurses asked us to keep the door open for others to listen. The music floated down the hallway as if being carried on the wings of angels.
Jesus suffered and died for us,
but he rose from the dead and is waiting for us in heaven. We must live our lives to honor Him and to
prepare for the end of our own lives on earth so that we will one day join our
loved ones in heaven and meet our Savior face to face. Listen for God as He speaks to us in many
ways – including dreams, poetry, music, and strangers.
Katherine Haney Williams
