Doug Tales 19: What He Told Mom in the Blessing

Doug Mendenhall voiced a blessing for his mother at her request, and explains what he learned from the experience in My Peace I Give Unto You (2001) on pages 41-44:

The phone rang.

“Hello,” I said and a familiar voice greeted me.


“Morning, Mom.”

“I know you’re probably busy, what with trying to get the kids off to school and all, but do you have a minute?” she asked.

“Sure Mom, no problem, what’s going on?”

“Well, the doctor scheduled me for an angiogram tomorrow afternoon,” she started out, “and I was wondering if you would come over and give me a blessing sometime today? I think it would make me feel a lot better.”

“Of course . . . Mom, how long have you known about the angiogram?” I asked her.

“Oh . . . about three, maybe four weeks; I didn’t mention it before because it didn’t seem important,” she apologetically answered…

“Mom, I’ve got to go. How about if I come by tonight around, say, 7:00 to give you a blessing?”

“That would be fine, Doug. Good luck with Denise and have a good day son, love you,” Mom finished.

“Love you too, Mom.” I hung up the phone and headed for the kitchen…

“That was Mom.” I began explaining to Dianne. “She said she’s going in for an angiogram tomorrow. I know it has something to do with her heart but that’s about it.”

“Is something wrong with grandma?” Debi looked up from her half-finished breakfast.

“No dear, grandma’s fine, she’s just having a test, that’s all,” Dianne soothed Debi.

“Well, anyway, I’m going to call Mike. He’ll tell me what this is all about.” I gave Dianne a peck on the cheek and returned to the bedroom.

Mike is a good friend and a dentist. Granted, being a dentist isn’t the same as a medical doctor, but I figured Mike would know more about the procedure than I do. After a long conversation with him, I understood–it was a procedure used to diagnose heart problems; semi-invasive, painful and even dangerous.

Now I began to worry.

I went over to Mom’s at 7:00, as promised, to give her a blessing. She became calm as we hugged and started talking. When she was ready, I laid my hands on her head the way the apostles did anciently, and gave her a blessing.

“…I bless you that tomorrow’s procedure will not be painful and that you will recover from the discomfort you feel now. That your heart will be healed according to the mind and will of the Lord. He is very mindful of your trials and pains here and He loves you and is pleased with you. I bless you that you will rest easy this night knowing that tomorrow will bring you renewed health…”

As I removed my hands from her head, I marveled at what I could recall of the blessing. It felt like someone else had used my voice and I was an observer. I didn’t know what to think, so I said nothing about it to Mom. I knew from Mike that the procedure tomorrow would be painful, yet the words I could remember spoke the promise that it would be painless, that she would be healed.

Another hug and a few comforting words later, I headed home.


“I don’t know, Dianne . . . it was as if someone else was speaking through me tonight. They . . . I promised Mom there wouldn’t be any pain tomorrow.” I recounted everything to her as we lay side by side in bed.

“I would think you’d be happy knowing your mom will be alright,” Dianne offered.

“I guess so. I must doubt too much. My faith must not be what it should be . . .” I rolled over, disquieted.

“Good night dear. I love you.”

“I love you too. Don’t worry. Trust in the blessing and the Lord.”


Mom and I talked on the phone the day after the procedure. I had tried to reach her the night before, but couldn’t, and despite the blessing I’d given her and the confirmation that she would be just fine, I still doubted.

I needed to make sure she was okay.

Mom was in great spirits as she explained what happened. Apparently, as the physician maneuvered the camera toward her heart and after a few minutes of probing, he said, “I don’t know why you’re in here. You don’t need surgery, your heart is fine. There isn’t even a sign of a murmur.” And she felt no pain! As promised, the blessing had come—she was just fine.

At first I was a little stunned, but it quickly turned to gratitude as I considered how loving our Savior is, and how merciful His healing power. I also felt his gentle rebuke for not believing what He had told Mom in the blessing.