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Sally Jadlow

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God's Little Miracle Book
by Sally Jadlow   

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Books by Sally Jadlow
· God's Little Miracle Book II
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Publisher:  Bouy Up Press ISBN-10:  9780937660 Type: 


Copyright:  Nov. 2010 ISBN-13:  9780937660935

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God's Little Miracle Book

Twenty-seven miracles seen over the past forty years.

A variety of miracles. A five-year-old run over by a car, to food prepared for forty multiplied to feed 180.

Available in paperback and formatted for e-readers, Kindle, Nook, i-Pad, i-Pod, and phones.


The phone rang late one night. It was our eldest daughter, Jennifer.
“Mom. Get to Children’s Mercy downtown. Life Flight is bringing Gunnar in.”
“For what?” My mind spun. Their home town of Paola, Kansas was only thirty-five miles away. This must be something serious. My grandson, Gunnar, was only five. Had he fallen off something? Surely they wouldn’t life flight him for a broken arm. Why didn’t they take him to the local hospital?
Jennifer continued. “He’s been run over by a car. No room for us in the helicopter. We’re driving in. He needs someone there when he arrives. Hurry.”
Our Overland Park home was only twenty minutes from downtown. I pulled on my jeans, grabbed a shirt and shoved my feet in the first available pair of shoes. Of all weekends for my husband to be out of town. Why do things happen at the most inopportune time? Wish he were here to go with me.
I glanced at my watch. Eleven o’clock. Why in the world did they have a five-year-old out at eleven o’clock? Did she say, “Run over?”
I seemed to be driving through wet cement on I-35. “Have to get there before the helicopter,” I whispered. Driving, I prayed, “Father, calm Gunnar’s spirit. Remove fear. Oh, Lord. Is he bleeding? Stop the bleeding. Is he in pain? Stand between him and the pain.”
Pulling into the emergency parking lot, I saw the helicopter on the pad. I ran in and asked at the desk, “Gunnar Karr?”
“Are you a relative?”
“Grandmother. His folks will be here soon.”
“Wait over there beside that door. Someone will be out before too long. He just got here.”
Within minutes, an EMT emerged with a transport basket under her arm. “Are you waiting for Gunnar Karr?”
“He’s doing fine. No broken bones. He’s very calm. In fact he fell asleep on the ride in.”
Did she say “fell asleep”? I sent up a quick prayer of thanks and breathed a sigh of relief. “When can I see him?”
“Shortly. They’re getting him ready for a CT scan.”
Maybe this wasn’t as bad as it sounded. Maybe Jen just thought a car ran over him. Surely, he’d have broken bones if that happened.
I called Jen from a phone near the desk. “He has no broken bones.”
“Wonderful. Have you seen him yet?”
“No. How far away are you?”
“Twenty minutes, at least.”
A nurse poked his head out the exam room door. “You can see Gunnar now.”
The bright light overhead flooded the room. Gunnar’s tiny five-year-old frame looked so small on the big exam table. They had cut off all his clothes. A brace encircled his neck. Two black tire marks ran up his body from his left hip to his right shoulder. Guess she really did mean run over.
“Two tires ran over me, Grandma.”
I fought to maintain my composure and stroked his hair. “I know Hon. Mom and Dad will be here soon.”
They lifted him onto a gurney and whisked him off for a CT scan. I waited in the nearby waiting room. Jennifer and Scott arrived.
“So, give me the details. Where were you this time of night?” I asked.
“At Jordan’s ball game,” Jennifer said. Gunnar played in the playground across the street. “I was up in the bleachers and heard a thump, thump from the road behind me. I saw a small body fly out from under the tires of a car. I jumped off the bleachers. The car went a little way and then stopped.”
“Who was driving?”
“A fifteen-year-old without a license. When I got down there I realized it was Gunnar. Someone called 911 and Life Flight showed up before too long.”
“I’m amazed; he doesn’t look too bad—just some small scrapes on his hips and one knee.”
“He didn’t cry out in pain unless they tried to roll him on his side. Some guy came up, took hold of his feet, and began to pray. When Gunnar cried out in pain, he prayed louder. The EMT’s just ignored the guy—like he wasn’t even there.”
“What did he look like?”
“I couldn’t really see his face. It was covered by a ball cap. He wore a pair of overalls.”
Jennifer continued. “After the Life Flight took off I turned to thank him for praying but he was gone.”
“An angel perhaps?”
“Maybe. Whoever he was, I sure appreciated him being there. I asked around if anyone knew him. No one had ever seen him before.”
“That’s strange. In a town of ten thousand like Paola, somebody should have known him.”
Jennifer nodded. “That’s true.”
The CT scan revealed no internal injuries but the doctors wanted to keep him for the next couple of days. When Gunnar tried to sit up or walk, he was in pain.
By Sunday, word spread regarding Gunner both in Paola and in Overland Park. People in various churches prayed for him.
Doctors were puzzled over this patient. One doctor thought perhaps his growth plates were broken. If so, he wouldn’t grow beyond his three foot nine inch height. Another doctor thought he might have a hairline crack in his pelvis and wanted to operate. Further tests revealed no cracks. Another doctor wanted to cast him from his knees to his neck for two months.
After two days never leaving his side, Jennifer called in tears.
“Mom, no one knows for sure what to do.”
“Well, we’re just going to put it in Jesus’ lap and leave it there.”
That afternoon, Gunnar sat up. In another hour, he walked down the hall with assistance. The next day the doctor ordered occupational therapy to fit him with a walker and show him how to use it. That afternoon the hospital discharged him.
I went to pick them up. On the way downstairs, Gunnar lifted his walker over his head like a set of barbells while he walked off the elevator.
“Gunnar, for crying out loud. Put that thing down and use it like you’re supposed to. If the nurses see that they might not let you out,” I said.
The next day was the 4th of July. Gunnar celebrated Independence Day in his own way. He ran in the yard all day—without the walker.

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