Faithful Heart (16 page)

“Yes. That makes sense.”

“You see, God can heal any of our bodily or mental defects if He so chooses, but it’s not always His will to do so.”

“But why wouldn’t it be His will to heal?”

“That’s where His higher thoughts come in. His thoughts are different than ours. But we have examples in Scripture where God could have healed bodily sicknesses and defects, but chose not to.” Dr. Carroll opened a drawer, pulled out a Bible, and began flipping pages. “Let me show you what I mean. Was there ever a greater man of prayer and faith than Paul?”

“Not that I know of.”

“All right. Look here at 2 Corinthians 12:7. Paul tells of his thorn in the flesh, which was given to him by Satan to buffet him.” He handed her the Bible, open to the passage, and said, “Read me verses eight and nine.”

Dottie took the Bible and read aloud,
“For this thing I besought the Lord thrice, that it might depart from me. And he said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness. Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me.”

Dottie met the doctor’s gaze. “So God said no. He didn’t want Paul healed.”

“That’s right,” Carroll said. “Yet what a great man of faith and prayer Paul was! If it’s always God’s will to heal if a person only has enough faith, certainly Paul could have prayed away his fleshly thorn. Turn over to Colossians 4:14 and read it to me.”

Dottie flipped there quickly.
“Luke the beloved physician, and Demas, greet you.”

“See that? Dr. Luke traveled with Paul for a reason, don’t you think?”

“Because he was a physician and Paul needed his care?”

“You’re catching on. One more passage—2 Timothy 4.” Carroll waited till she had found the page, then said, “Read me verse twenty and see what Paul says.”

Dottie’s eyes scanned down the page.
“Erastus abode at Corinth: but Trophimus have I left at Miletum sick.”

“See? Paul—a great giant of the faith, a man of prayer—couldn’t pray his friend Trophimus well because it wasn’t God’s will for him to be healed. This is for the Lord to decide, not us.”

Dottie was nodding. “My sister has shown me some of this. Her name’s Breanna. She’s a C.M.N.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes. Perhaps you know of Dr. Lyle Goodwin in Denver?”

“I not only know
of
him, I know him personally. He minored in psychiatry and has spoken at many A.M.A. conventions I’ve attended.”

“Well, Breanna is a visiting nurse and works out of Dr. Goodwin’s office.”

“Wonderful!”

“She really knows her Bible. One time when I was with her she got into a discussion with a woman who insisted that the blood atonement guarantees our physical healing here and now.”

“And what did your sister say?”

“She didn’t have to say a whole lot. The woman argued she had perfect health because of Jesus’ stripes. After a while, Breanna
reached up and gently removed the woman’s spectacles, saying, ‘Then you certainly don’t need these.’ I think it startled the woman enough that she finally saw the truth.”

“Your sister sounds like quite a woman,” Dr. Carroll said with a grin.

“That she is,” Dottie said. “Breanna also told the woman that as a nurse, she’s qualified to say that everybody who dies—Christian or non-Christian—dies of some malfunction of the body. If Jesus’ stripes were for the healing of Christians’ bodies, we would never die. Only people outside of Christ would die.”

“Good thinking,” nodded the doctor. “And absolutely correct. All of God’s children eventually die, no matter how strong their faith. Except for Enoch and Elijah, of course. I sure hope I get to meet this sister of yours sometime.”

“Maybe someday you can. Between the two of you, I’ve learned a lot. And I thank you.”

“You’re welcome. I think with Jerrod it boils down to this—though it’s taken several years for the shell shock to affect his mind to the degree you’ve seen in the past five months, it’s just as real as if he had consumption or a diseased heart. Being a Christian doesn’t make us immune to mental illnesses any more than it makes us immune to physical illnesses.”

The building shuddered slightly, and the windows rattled. The doctor and Dottie looked at each other, ready to make another dash to the closet door. Then the shuddering stopped.

“Aftershock,” said the doctor.

Dottie nodded with a touch of fear in her eyes.

“I haven’t told you what the sheriff said to me last night,” Dr. Carroll continued. “He said he can hold your husband only two days unless he’s charged with assault and battery. Since your
pastor isn’t going to press charges, he’ll have to let him go unless you file a complaint and ask that he be held longer. If you file, a county judge will decide how long he can be held.”

“Does Jerrod know this?”

“No. Sheriff Donner isn’t going to tell him a thing until he talks with you to see what I’ve suggested. I want to help Jerrod, but I don’t want you or your children in danger. If Jerrod will let me treat him, at least with the sedatives, I can make his spells much less severe. Since you say he would refuse to be treated as a patient at the asylum, I strongly suggest that you make his release contingent on his promise to come and see me immediately. He
will
keep a promise to you, won’t he?”

“Of course.”

“Get the promise before the key is turned, then get him here as fast as possible. If he won’t promise, for Jerrod’s sake as well as yours and the children’s, you’ll have to file and see the judge.”

“I’ll do as you suggest, Doctor,” Dottie said, rising from the chair. “I want Jerrod to get all the help he can. I just wish there was a way to cure him.”

“Me, too,” replied the doctor, also rising. “Maybe someday we’ll learn how to cure mental illness, not just treat it.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” said Dottie, smiling warmly. “You’ve been a tremendous help already. Ah … may I ask a favor?”

“Of course,” nodded Carroll.

“Would there be a time I could see the asylum … just in case one day Jerrod would have to be admitted?”

“Yes, of course. In fact, I need to head over there right now. If you’d like, I could give you a tour.”

Dottie was a bit uneasy at the thought of entering the asylum, but she felt it was important that she see it. Together, she and Dr.
Carroll left the building and headed down the busy street toward the asylum. City workers were cleaning up debris from the quake, and people on the street were talking about it. She overheard someone say they were relieved it wasn’t the big one seismologists were predicting would hit San Francisco within the next thirty or forty years.

Dottie shuddered at the thought as she and Dr. Carroll proceeded toward the asylum.

J
ERROD
H
ARPER SAT ON HIS BUNK
in cell number one in the San Mateo County Jail. On the opposite side of the same cell, Marty Tillman lay on his bunk, smoking a cigarette. There were three other cells, but since Harper and Tillman were the only prisoners, Sheriff Max Donner put them together. It saved Deputy Myron Hall from having to clean two cells.

Tillman was as hard and tough as they come. He had robbed the San Bruno bank at opening time that morning, and a twist of fate had the sheriff and deputy directly in front of the bank when Tillman came charging out with his revolver in one hand and a bag of money in the other. The two lawmen had their guns on him in a flash, and Tillman chose to surrender rather than fight it out. He had already been in prison twice for armed robbery, and he knew that when he went to prison this time, they would throw away the key.

“If you don’t help me break outta here,” Tillman said, “I’m goin’ up for good, and who knows how long you’ll be in here? After what I heard the sheriff say you did to your preacher and your wife, you just might be here for quite a spell.”

Jerrod fixed him with a stern glare. “I told you to forget it, Tillman. I’m no criminal, and I’m not helpin’ put you back out
there so you can rob more banks and stages. And if you don’t put that stinkin’ cigarette out, I’m gonna make you eat it.”

Tillman blew smoke toward the ceiling, sat up, and snarled, “Look, pal. It ain’t my fault we got stuck in this cell together, but I got a right to smoke if I wanna.”

“Not as long as I have to breathe it, you don’t.” Jerrod rose to his feet and went and stood over Tillman. “Snuff it, or eat it.”

Jerrod Harper’s size and obvious strength made Tillman decide to snuff it. He dropped the cigarette on the floor and ground it out with his boot. “Ya happy now?” he asked.

Jerrod said nothing and returned to his cot.

Tillman let out a sigh. “I’m gonna break outta here whether you wanna go or not.”

Just then the door that led to the sheriff’s office rattled and came open, and Deputy Hall and Reverend Howard Yates entered the cell block.

“Your pastor’s here to see you, Jerrod,” Hall said.

Marty Tillman mumbled a string of swear words, and said, “Oh, boy. Now we get to hear a sermon.”

“Shut your mouth, Tillman,” Jerrod said. “You’ve no right to talk that way about my preacher, and I don’t want his ears filled with your foul language.”

Yates moved close to the barred door and offered his hand to Jerrod. Jerrod took it, his gaze taking in the cuts and bruises on Howard’s face. “Preacher, I sure am sorry for what I did to you.”

“What’s done is done,” Yates said. “The main thing now is to get help for you so something like this doesn’t happen again.”

“Reverend,” Hall said, “I’ll go on back to the office. You can stay as long as you wish.”

“Thanks, Myron.” Yates watched the deputy move through the door and close it behind him. He then turned to Jerrod and said, “I went to Dr. Carroll’s house in San Francisco late last night. He was gracious enough to talk to me and showed keen interest in your problem. Said he’s willing to help if you and Dottie will let him.”

“Pastor Yates, I’m grateful that you didn’t press charges against me, and I thank you for that … but I’m not goin’ to any brain doctor.”

Yates saw the fire in Jerrod’s eyes, and reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small Bible. He opened it to Psalm 113 and began reading aloud.

“Praise ye the L
ORD
. Praise, O ye servants of the L
ORD
, praise the name of the L
ORD
. Blessed be the name of the L
ORD
from this time forth and for evermore.”

Jerrod’s breathing eased and he began to grow calm.

“From the rising of the sun unto the going down—”

“Hey!” Marty Tillman shouted. “This ain’t no church, and I don’t have to listen to that holy Joe stuf!”

“Excuse me, Pastor,” Jerrod said, and he whirled on Tillman, eyes blazing.

“I got my rights, Harper!” Tillman gusted. “I hate that Bible stuff, and I don’t have to listen to it!”

Jerrod reached down, sank steely fingers into Tillman’s shirt, and lifted him off his feet with one hand. “One more word outta you, and I’m gonna tie you in a knot so tight you’ll have to spread your toes to eat. You got that?”

“Okay, okay,” Tillman said, trying to mask his fear. “Put me down. I ain’t sayin’ anything else.”

Jerrod dropped him like a rock. Tillman hit the floor hard,
his legs buckling under him. He quickly stood up and returned to his cot. The preacher smiled to himself and finished reading the psalm aloud. Marty Tillman sat on his cot and pouted.

Yates closed the Bible, laid a hand on Jerrod’s shoulder, and said, “Let’s pray together.”

Tillman sneered at the two men and mumbled profanities under his breath as they prayed.

When the amen was said, Yates squeezed hard on Jerrod’s shoulder. “I hope to hear that you let Dr. Carroll see you, my friend.”

“I … I’ll consider it, Pastor.”

Yates patted Jerrod’s shoulder and headed for the office door. When he reached it, he turned and said, “Give the doctor a chance, Jerrod … for the sake of your family.”

Dottie Harper was sure she would find the City Mental Asylum loathsome and unpleasant. She had heard plenty about insane asylums and their unsanitary conditions, mistreatment of patients, bad food, and the wailing and screaming of the inmates.

When Dr. Carroll escorted her through the main door into the lobby, she learned quickly that what she had heard about the wailing and screaming was true. Hideous sounds, though muffled, assaulted her ears.

She saw nothing that appeared unsanitary. The lobby was clean, well-lighted by large windows, and decorated with paintings of still life and countrysides.

Dr. Carroll introduced Dottie to the male receptionist and a big husky man in white who worked as an attendant. He then
guided her through a pair of double doors into an open area with a counter, and long, narrow halls that went in three directions. The building was constructed of stone and mortar, and the depressing, colorless stone was visible on the inside also.

Dr. Carroll paused near the counter and said, “Mrs. Harper, as we tour the building, I want you to notice that our place is not like other asylums. We keep it scrubbed clean. And I assure you, the food is good and nourishing.”