Keys to the Kingdom
By Carolyn Hayward Tucker
Jesus, Jackhammers, and Elvis
Just so you know, the results of my MRI were fine. Now back to the beginning. I didn’t research what all goes on with having an MRI, but I knew there was nothing for me to do before or during the procedure. I’m certainly acquainted with colonoscopies, so I thought the MRI would be a piece of cake. As I completed the questionnaire at the hospital and read, “Are you claustrophobic?“ I checked the “NO” box. (In retrospect, I now believe that was a big fat lie.) The female technician was very cordial and she instructed me to remove my watch and a certain undergarment. No problem. Lying flat on my back, she asked if I preferred silent headphones or headphones with Spotify. She said she could play anything I wanted, so I asked to listen to Elvis. So into the tube I went. I closed my eyes knowing I’d tolerate it better without seeing my enclosed surroundings.
After I got in there, I soon realized it was hot and stuffy. Using my outside voice I said, “It’s hot in here!” She turned the fan on high speed and asked if that was better. I responded, “No, not really.” So she immediately brought me out of the tube. I knew I was in serious trouble if something didn’t drastically improve. I asked, “Are we the only two in here?” She said, “Yes.” So I candidly said, “OK, I’m taking off my socks, shoes, and jeans.“ She responded that she would cover me with a sheet. I said, “No, I don’t want a sheet.“ So back into the tube I went with my eyes closed. I’d done everything I knew to do and could tell I still needed help beyond myself. So I desperately prayed a simple short prayer, “Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, help me.” You know, there’s something wonderful and powerful about that Name.
The Elvis music was an excellent distraction as it began playing softly. Thankfully, I no longer felt like a smoldering hotdog suffocating in a bun, but I still kept my eyes closed. As the jackhammers began banging out their varied rhythms for about 20 minutes, I gratefully realized that Jesus had indeed answered my prayer. I had lost my pants, but not my marbles, and that was a supernatural victory.
A few days after the procedure, I read a fitting scripture that I personalized: “Do not be afraid, for I have ransomed you. I have called you by name; you are Mine. When you go through deep waters (the tube), I will be with you” (Isaiah 43:1-2 NLT). I definitely felt His presence while the jackhammers, accompanied by Elvis, serenaded me. Jesus said, “And remember that I am always with you until the end of time” (Matthew 28:20 GW).
I didn’t need grace as I drove to the hospital, nor as I entered the building, nor as I filled out the paperwork. But I sure needed “tube grace” and I got it in that precise moment. “So let us come boldly to the throne of our gracious God. There we will receive His mercy, and we will find grace to help us when we need it most” (Hebrews 4:16 NLT). God didn’t help me early or late, but right on time. I’ve always been fond of Isaiah 41:10 and I experienced this promise during my tube adventure: “Don’t be afraid, for I am with you. Don’t be discouraged, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you. I will hold you up with my victorious right hand.” God will not fail us nor abandon us at any stress point in our lives. There is strength in the Lion of Judah and in the name of the Lord.
The Key: I wonder how many MRI tubes Jesus has climbed into for all those with claustrophobia?
