|The early hours continued|
|Soon we were driving down the A12, listening to worship songs and trying to contact Jenny who had not been mentioned. We couldn’t understand why there was no reply, until we reached a diversion point just after Blythburgh.
We drove past the barriers and were stopped by two policemen. I stepped out of the car to talk to them and discovered that the critically-ill driver of a Vauxhall Astra had been air-lifted to a hospital near Great Yarmouth. I knew this would be Claire and so the person at Ipswich must have been Jenny. Ipswich Hospital obviously didn’t know which of our girls they had.
|I fell to the ground, so weak, so desperate while Heather looked on at the wreckage of the cars. The police wanted to drive us to the hospital but I realised that this would delay us from getting back to our other children Amy (12) and Tom (6). So I drove on and we prayed and focussed as best we could, already turning to Jesus for strength and comfort.
The news at the hospital was grim as Jenny was only breathing artificially. We sank into a sofa and waited with little hope for results from a brain scan.
|I found it hard to sit down as the room was too oppressive and confined so I wandered outside for a few moments in the fresh daylight air. “Lord I so need you”, I confessed before returning to Heather who could barely move. We started praying and in those moments God met with us and began to counter the fear and dread.
We asked to be alone because I wanted to pray over her with no interference. There was a swollen look to her face but peaceful as though sleeping. I prayed because I knew God could bring her back if he wanted. Yet even as I asked, I recognised his calm, reassuring voice saying, “no, she is home with me”.
|A sense of focus and purpose came upon me so that I could respond to the news that Jenny had passed away and for seeing her on the hospital bed.|