Morphing of Mabel #3

Story of Mabel continues:
It was not many weeks before I turned from a sense that I was being helpful to a sense of wonder, and I would go to her with a pen and paper to write down the things she would say. . . .
"During one hectic week of final exams I was frustrated because my mind seemed to be pulled in ten directions at once with all of the things that I had to think about. The question occurred to me, 'What does Mabel have to think about-hour after hour, day after day, week after week, not even able to know if it's day or night?' So I went to her and asked, 'Mabel, what do you think about when you lie here?'
"And she said, 'I think about my Jesus.'
"I sat there, and thought for a moment about the difficulty, for me, of thinking about Jesus for even five minutes, and I asked, 'What do you think about Jesus?' She replied slowly and deliber­ately as I wrote. . .:
I think about how good he's been to me. He's been awfully good to me in my life, you know. . . . I'm one of those kind who's mostly satisfied. . . . Lots of folks wouldn't care much for what I think. Lots of folks would think I'm kind of old­fashioned. But I don't care. I'd rather have Jesus. He's all the world to me.
"And then Mabel began to sing an old hymn:
Jesus is all the world to me,
My life, my joy, my all.
He is my strength from day to day,
Without him I would fall.
When I am sad to him I go,
No other one can cheer me so,
When I am sad He makes me glad.
He’s my friend.

“This is not fiction. Incredible as it may seem, a human being really lived like this. I know. I knew her. How could she do it? Seconds ticked and minutes crawled, and so did days and weeks and months and years of pain without human company and without an explanation of why it was all happening-and she lay there and sang hymns. How could she do it?

Final post on Mabel's story tomorrow, however stayed tuned for later posts to read what John Ortberg says about how we can have what Mabel has. Amen.