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This past Sunday Pastor Horton read a letter from Donna concerning the anniversary of the passing of her son Jamie. It was moving and timely as Brownsville is renovating the Nurseries. Thousands of babies, during revival, stayed in the Nursery Annex. Now the Nurseries are moving to the Family Life Center, where all of the Children's Ministries can be located in one building. If you'd like to donate to the Nursery simply go Target.com, or Lowes.com, look up expectant mother as Brownsville (1st name), Assembly of God (last name), order and have them deliver!

The following is Donna's letter about Jamie:

Dear Pastor Evon,

Thought you should know that your past Sunday’s words really hit home, “…it’s not how fast you run the race, but that you don’t quit. What’s important is that you finish…”

I’ve known something was ‘going on’ with God recently and Sunday morning I had a nagging feeling that there was something very important I was forgetting. Your words made me remember that this Feb. 3^rd was the anniversary of my Jamie’s death. I never forget this day, of course, but there was something I was supposed to ‘do’. I’d never been prompted to tell any of my other pastors in all that time. My friends and relatives knew, but that’s evidently not enough for God. I’m supposed to tell you at this time.  

James David Bowen born 03/24/1966 Charleston SC Naval Hospital 

I was 21 years old and had no idea when I went into labor that this would be the most special day of my life. I already had a beautiful little girl and was healthy, happy and anxious to have this child. When you are that young, the possibility of problems with your baby just didn’t exist and the minor problem in the fifth months had been completely forgotten, the learning curve was beginning.

Jamie was breach and became hung in the birth canal causing insufficient oxygen. It was a very difficult natural birth. “Brain damage” the doctors said, “probably won’t live but a few days and if he does, he’ll only be a vegetable” and that they would assist me in putting him directly into a hospital if I didn’t want to take him home.

When I absorbed all of this information, I notified God in all my wisdom, that it would be better if He just took Jamie on home to heaven. Jamie would be alright then and I would heal from the loss. I was out on a hospital ward with other new mothers but my baby was not brought to be fed along with the others. He remained in the ICU. I couldn’t sleep or quit crying. I had no family in SC and my husband was in shock also, so it was just me, Jamie and God there. No visitors, no family, no hope.

At 2 a.m. the next morning, the call came from the intensive care unit. Jamie was dying. I hadn’t even gotten to hold him. I outran the interns who came to get me and I was told to stay in the dim hall outside the ICU viewing window. Jamie had had a stroke and was not breathing. The doctor was pounding on his little chest. They were trying to insert a breathing tube and one doctor was putting a needle into his tiny heart trying to start it again. They didn’t know I was in the hall watching. In all the rush of the emergency, they had forgotten to close the blinds.

I knew God was answering my prayers about taking Jamie home and to this day I can’t say what happened. “I changed my mind, Father. I’ll keep him” I whispered. That was all I said. God knew what I meant. That I would keep him any way you want to leave him. I’ll take care of him for as long as You leave him with me, to the best of my ability. I’ll do anything that is required to be able to keep him just the way he is. Two things happened immediately; Jamie took a deep breath and a very large angel stepped up behind me and kept my knees from buckling.

Two weeks later, I took Jamie home and for the next 15 years I was helped and blessed by God to know the sweetest child in the whole world. Those 15 years gave me two more daughters who absolutely adored him and learned how to love from him, to love totally, without expecting anything in return. There was a divorce when he was 9 that really had nothing to do with the children and the girls, Jamie and I were alone until I met Arthur. Art and I were married 27 years ago this month.

My only fear all those years was that I might die before Jamie. I could not bear thinking about that, so I didn’t. I lived day by day and they were good days with God’s help. No one ever met Jamie that wasn’t blessed by his sweet spirit. For a little boy who never sat, spoke, walked or ran, he touched a lot of hearts. Maybe it was his smile and laughter and the twinkle in his eye that did it. His sense of humor was really quite good. He loved poetry and the Three Little Pigs.

Two years before he died his little body began to get worn out and started having seizures. God was getting me used to the idea, gently, that it was ‘nearly time’ for Jamie to come home. I always knew he wasn’t going to be staying. He was just here for a little while. It was kind of God to give me warning. He died two weeks after Art and I were married. Art had custody of his 3 children, I had my 3 daughters and we were trying to put a new family together in a new home. I wouldn’t have been able to bear the loss even though I knew it was coming if it hadn’t been for Art, God knew that I needed someone before He took Jamie.

The last chapter of Jamie’s story is this: I only prayed one selfish prayer for myself all those years. Now I take absolutely no credit for the fact that I never asked “Why! Why me Lord. Why my baby”? I don’t know why I never felt anger or overwhelming grief about Jamie. It would seem reasonable to, but I just didn’t feel anything but happy and blessed to have all the children and Jamie was just one of my angles. I asked God to (1) take him gently (2) let him be in my arms when he left (3) let us be alone, just like in the beginning at the hospital.

So on a cold, windy February 3^rd, 27 years ago I took Jamie into the Military Hospital here in Pensacola. He was sinking fast and had been in and out of deep sleep for 2 days, barely recognizing us most of the time. Art had to go to our children’s school for something that morning and none of us knew it would be Jamie’s last, so Jamie and I went alone. The waiting room in pediatrics was empty for once and I sat down with Jamie bundled up in a blanket, for he’d been so cold the last few days and it was a blustery day outside. I had never heard the voice of God in my ears until that day. If anyone had been with me, I would have glanced sideways to see if they had heard it too. As we waited to see our doctor, I brushed the hair out of Jamie’s eyes and told him, as I had a thousand times before, “Who loves you more than the leaves on the trees and the starts in the sky, Jamie? Mommy does!” The light of recognition sparked for just a moment in his eyes. “I remember that. I know you” he would have said. He knew me that instant and we looked at each other as he smiled, took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Gently, so very gently he went home to be with God.

I knew he was gone but the mind numbing sadness was overshadowed that moment by a joy that we had done it!! God and I had finished Jamie’s race. And that’s when I heard God. He whispered in my ear, “I remembered.” That’s all. Just two words. He had remembered my prayer even though I only asked Him one time, years ago. How kind is that?!