When Man Said No, God Said Yes

By Sandra Hardy

I want to give God all the glory for most because I could not have done it without him and my loving Jamyia, my grandbaby who was there all along, saying, "Write the book, Mom-Mom." I love you, Jamyia, lots of hug and kisses to you. She's a big girl now. And to my other grandkids, I love you so much.

Thank you, Father God in heaven.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Jul 1, 2021
• ISBN: 9781098054359

Book preview

cover.jpg

When Man Said No, God Said Yes

Sandra Hardy

Copyright © 2020 by Sandra Hardy

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the publisher. For permission requests, solicit the publisher via the address below.

Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.

832 Park Avenue

Meadville, PA 16335

www.christianfaithpublishing.com

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Acknowledgments

First of all, I want to give thanks to my Heavenly Father for encouraging me to write this book. I could not have done it without him.

Secondly, I thank Joel Osteen. God used him to encourage me to write the book, and he doesn’t even know it. For three days straight, he would say, I don’t know who I’m talking to, but God may be encouraging you to write the book. Write the book. On the third day, I started to write the book. He never said it anymore. Thanks, Joel.

I also want to thank my grandbaby who’s five now, Jamyia Revels, who would say, Mama, you going to write the book, and for all the hugs and kisses and her kind little words, her help. I love you, Jamyia, for your young wisdom and how God used you to help me, and you didn’t even know it. May God bless you all the days of your life.

To my loving mother, who’s gone to be with the Lord. Thank you for all your prayers. I wouldn’t be where I’m at today if it was not for your prayers.

To my kids, I love you guys.

I want to personally thank my family and friends—everybody who supported me before I wrote the book. Thank you. I hope you enjoy the book.

I want to thank two people I love dearly who were there for me through thick and thin: my sister Mary Hardy, who watched the kids for me as I rode those highways and byways; and my niece Christy Hardy, who was there with me to the end. I love you, Pit, and may God bless you all the days of your life.

Also, I want to thank my pastor Dr. Donald O’Neil Tyler for all his encouraging words.

I give God all the praise and glory. I could not have done it without the Lord. At first I didn’t understand, but now I know my thoughts are not his thoughts. When I tried to kill myself, he thought I was worth keeping here so I could tell the world, Don’t be so fast to pull the plug when man says there is no hope, because God has the last say-so in everything. And even he kept Kisha to be here with us for a little while longer; he made me stronger, wiser. To know him is to love him, fully persuaded and totally convinced. In Matthew 22-34–38, Romans 8:38–39, and Proverbs 3:5–6, I stood on God’s words. I keep the faith because when man says no, God says yes.

I also want to thank Mr. Robert Wilson, because if it was not for him and the love he had for me, I would not have gotten any of this done, so thank you so much, friend, I love you with all my heart. Love you, my friend for life.

Chapter 1

It Was the Fourth of July

It was the Fourth of July, a day I would never forget. I cooked as I always did. The family would come over; we would have a blast. But this day was different; nothing went as I had thought it would. The sky was blue. A brilliant blue. The day was hot. I sit here trying to remember absolutely every detail of that day. Yes, I thought everything was going to be perfect, but it wasn’t. The grandkids were gone with their parents. Kisha got dressed; she left saying she would be back. It seemed like hours had gone by; the kids and anyone else showed up. It was well past 2:00 p.m. when finally my niece showed up. Tutti—I was happy to see her; we had a few drinks. When the doorbell rang, it was Tutti’s sister K. We kick it a few hours when I decided to go over to my nephew’s house; Sly, who stayed around the corner from me, was having BBQ for his family and had invited the family over. I found that out when I got there—now that’s where the party was. Meat was cooking on the grill, kids playing on Jumping Jupiters, domino games, beer, liquor, the smell of good collard greens in the air; his wife’s family was there as well. My day was coming to an end, so I decided to go back to my place; yeah, I was tipsy, and still hadn’t seen my kids or grandkid. They keep saying that they were coming, and they didn’t. But I was long gone back at the Ponderosa. I made myself a drink, put on a movie, and chilled. I made a few phone calls, one being my neighbor from across the street. I invited her over to get a plate and have a drink. We sit outside on the patio. It was well past 10:00 p.m. when my brother Al came over. We sat there another hour. Here comes Kisha.

Girl, where have you been all day?

Kisha answered, I just been kicking it. I’m here to fix me and little Ray a plate. I’m going to spend the night with him at the hospital.

I said, Okay, baby. How are you going to get out there?

Kisha replied, I’m going to ask Uncle Al to take me.

Little did I know that’s when the nightmare began. It was July 5, about 12:45 a.m. I got a phone call from my brother Al.

Sandy, Kisha won’t get up.

What do you mean she won’t get up? What’s wrong with her?

I don’t know, sis. We pulled up at QuikTrip. Me and Kisha got out. I paid for some gas. Kisha was in the store getting her a tea and some chips. I was pumping the gas. Kisha came and got in the car. I look back at Kisha and told her to close the door, but she didn’t respond, she’s just sitting over there with her eyes close. Kisha closes the door. Then I look at Pretty Black, who was in the front passenger seat. I got out the car and went around to where Kisha was, trying to walk her up. That’s when I called you.

Okay, bring her home.

About 1:20 a.m., the doorbell rang. I opened the door and ran outside. I opened the door to the car. Kisha, get up. Al, she probably just high, help me get her in the house. I took Kisha by the arms, and Al grabbed her legs; we packed her in the house to Bri Bri’s bedroom, laying her on the bed. I then went outside to get the rest of her things. Thanks, bro, for bringing her home. I’ll just let her sleep it off. I went back to my room; we all had been getting high on one thing or another. So I figured if we slept it off, then we would be good in the morning. I got up at seven, as I do every morning, moving around the house. It was Sunday, and I did what I did every Sunday—got ready for church; after getting my clothes ready, I went in Bri’s room to check on Kisha. Kisha, get up, baby, but she did not respond. Kisha, get up. I slapped her face and moved her arms; her body was lifeless. I walked fast into my bedroom, got my phone, called my older daughter Gipsy.

Gipsy, I can’t get Kisha to wake up.

Mamma, did she take her night meds?

I’m not sure.

Okay, Momma, give her eight units of her Incel. Call me in thirty minutes.

Giving Kisha eight units of Incel, nothing happened. I tried pulling Kisha off the bed to take her to the bathroom to the shower, but her body was so heavy. I laid her on the floor; it appeared that she had, had a bowel movement. I knew in my heart more was wrong with my child. I called 9-1-1 and told them that my daughter was not responding, that she was diabetic. The voice on the other end asked me for my address.

Stay on the line, the paramedics are on the way. Is she still breathing?

Yes, ma’am, I told her.

Stay with her.

EMSA got there really fast. I opened the door, got out of their way. They pulled her into the hallway and worked fast.

How long has she been like this?

Since last night, about 12:30 p.m.

What hospital do you want her to go to?

St. John, I answered as they were taking her out the house. I went back to my room, put on some jeans and a T-shirt, grabbed my purse, her purse, a few other things, and jumped in the car, and I tell you, I put the pedal to the metal. I called my daughter Gipsy, told her what was going down as I was flying. I beat EMSA to the hospital, praying all the way. That’s all I could do—pray to my God. Once there, I rushed to park then ran to the nurses’ station.

My name is Sandra Hardy, and EMSA just brought my daughter in. The nurse at the station gave me this clipboard with paper on it to fill out. I did it as quickly as I could and took it back to her. She asked me to have a seat and that they would let me know something as soon as she got some information on her. But I could not sit down. I was standing there by the door when I saw my other daughter come through. I thought she was going to ask me about her sister Kisha, but instead, she just took her sister’s purse off my shoulder. I couldn’t understand that nor believe it. I didn’t have to worry about that, so I kept my thoughts to myself, as the family started to arrive. I began to tell what I knew, which was not very much at the time. I kept going back and forth by the emergency room window, looking in, then by the nurses’ station. They were still working on her, is all they could tell me. I just kept praying to my God. So many hours had gone by. It seemed like a lifetime. God, please don’t take my child from me, please save her. As I said those words, finally a doctor came to me, letting me know we could see her and that she was in a diabetic coma. Still I didn’t know really what was wrong, but I got to the family outside and told them. I couldn’t give up on my faith. I knew I had to trust God. Damn, I said to myself, so many questions. I needed to know why. Lord, please tell me why. Please wake her up. This can’t be real. God, I give it to you.

Up in ICU, doctors and nurses were still running back and forth. I went to the family waiting room where the rest of the family were. We talked, shared words of encouragement. It was getting real late. I’m not even sure if my grandkids had eaten anything. So I asked, and they had eaten; family members started to leave. I stayed the night and every night after that, looking at my child. I asked, Dear Lord, what’s going on? I couldn’t do anything but look at all the tubes they had in her. I lay down.

Day 2. I got up and went to her bed. I grabbed her hand and started to pray. After that, I remember saying, Good morning, baby, I love you. I gave her a kiss, got a washcloth, went to the sink