"Can you tell him what you told me?"

That was Brandon--a young man who (up until the last minute) was unable to talk.  His tongue was stiff and kept protruding out all night.  He was my "one-to-one"--someone I was dedicated to watch every minute of the day during my shift.  

While in the room, he got quite loud yelling out, "Aaaaaah, aaaaaah, aaaaah..."  Eventually one of his hallmates who shared the same restroom with him came around and asked if he can help tuck the patient in.  I have seen this work with other patients, and I have decided that I will not tuck patients in.  So I agreed.

This guy came in and started packing him up--like a piece of ham ready to be sold at the market.  He also started massaging Brandon on his chest.  He shared about how he does not believe in Western medicine but he is from Belize and had his way of dealing with guys like this.  As an anthropologist, I agreed with him.

At some point, he asked Brandon, "When did this happened?"  The response was, "When I was at the two-story house."  That was when I intervened, asking, "So why did you let it control you?"  He mumbled, "I made a deal with the Devil."  Then he whispered a prayer for Brandon and I.  Things looked successful at first.  But eventually, Brandon pulled his arms out and decided he was going to go and pace the hallway.

As we paced the hallway, the following were our conversation...

He said he needed to go to the hospital.  The other staff and I told him that he was at the hospital--our hospital.  As we walked together, pacing the hallway, he wrote down on my clipboard:  "Talk to me...anything."  So I started talking to him about how I was a refugee and came to the USA at the age of 5.  I thought he may be able to relate to me since he couldn't speak that well--as an immigrant, too.  However, we couldn't connect on that because he was born in the U.S.  

As we walked, the other staff addressed him about his tongue sticking out all the time.  So I made sure to address that as well.  I told him that doing that will make his tongue dry, hurt, and that it's not nice to do that to others.  His response:  "I'm not doing it on purpose."

As we kept pacing back-and-forth between the hallway and the day room, I kept talking.  I talked to him about the importance of making decisions--just as he made a decision to do that deal with the Devil, he needs to make a decision to cancel the deal.  And just as he slowly release control over to something else, he needs to slowly take back control.  Regardless, he needs to make decisions.  

Seeing how he wrote his thoughts, I asked, "Do you like reading?"  He gave me a thumbs up.  I asked, "What book?"  He took my pen and wrote down "The Bible."  That was when I started reading a Scripture verse to him from my booklet.  After reading the verse, he wrote down, "Read it more for me."  So I started reading again and explaining to him what the verse meant but did not get to finish before we headed back to the room, again.  

As the other staff kept pressing for him to stop sticking his tongue out, he kept saying that he's trying.  He even said that he needs to see a doctor about his tongue.  They just said that he doesn't need to see a doctor about that.  Plus, the doctor was busy and couldn't see him.  Their response to me was, "He's just trying to be a baby."  I saw his face and he didn't like that.  As we walked off to his room, I said, "I know.  I believe you."  Then I continued, "Even if some people don't believe you, I do, and God does as well."  That brought a lot of comfort to him.

When he said he couldn't sleep because he kept shaking, they told him that he needs to drink so that the medicine will work.  So he went to get water to drink.  However, even that didn't work.  He asked for a shot but they said the shot will delay his stay at the hospital.  He just need to try to go back to sleep.  

All night, he could not go to sleep.  He would yell and scream nonsense.  He would clap so loud his roommate got mad and said he was going to punch Brandon.  I had to calm the roommate down and grabbed one of his hands.  He eventually stopped clapping but started hitting his face with the other hand.  Now, I had to grab both hands.  He eventually stopped struggling with me to pull his hands out to hit himself.  Now, he's clapping, again, but I stopped that quick.  If his hands were held down, he would beat his head on his pillow.  He would point to things or write what he wanted to say down.  But he couldn't talk.  If he did, his tongue was frozen and he wouldn't make sense--hence, the writings.

As we near the end of my shift, I told him that he has to reject the control of whatever that was controlling him and ask God to control him.  

Right there, he knelt beside his bed and started praying.  I guided him on what he needed to pray about:  he needs to ask Jesus to be his Savior and Lord--of his heart and his body.  This also means he needs to repent of making that deal with the Devil--because making this deal means he did not trust God but wanted things immediately.

I asked if I can pray for him.  Taking his hand, I prayed that he is a new creation and that he is a child of God.  I prayed for freedom for him.  

What did I give him tonight?  I gave him the gifts of validation and redemption.  All I did was validated him and helped him find freedom from his situation.

Afterwards, he thanked me and I said, "Tonight, you have been freed.  You are free now.  Go in peace and sleep peacefully tonight.  Our God is the God that gives us rest.  Go to sleep and get your rest, Brandon."

That was when the next shift person came in.  Having to go back to the office for some paperwork, Brandon told me to tell the next staff what I said to him.  He said (this time in a more well enunciated way), "Can you tell him what you told me?"  So I shared with the staff about how he prayed and I prayed for him.

And with that, I left work, went to my car, and wept...for God has done marvelous works through me tonight--and this not of myself--but by His Spirit and for His glory!