Texting, emailing, instant messaging, and posting on Twitter, Facebook and other social media sites have become the go-to means of communication for many of us today. Talking? So old-fashioned. Who needs it?

I do. In fact, I prefer it – and the value of talking via an old-fashioned phone call hit home for me after a conversation with my brother just before he was hit with a frightening health crisis.

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Saturday, May 9 began in fairly typical weekend fashion. I had a list of things to do, including mowing the lawn and running some errands around town for Mother’s Day. As I went about the chores with our boys, I began thinking about my brother, John, who was at home recovering from endocarditis – an infection and inflammation of the heart’s inner lining.

I made a mental note to call him later in the day, just to check in and maybe offer some encouragement…

Our parents’ last wish was that all five of us kids would remain close after their deaths.

“When parents die,” my dad said, “the kids tend to drift apart. Please don’t let that happen.”

John took my mom and dad’s urging seriously and set up a conference call for the five Batura siblings on the first Sunday of every month. We are spread across four time zones, but we almost always manage to gather for a chat of an hour or more.

My brother’s recent heart problems came on suddenly – high fever, aches, chills, restlessness. Thankfully, he tested negative for COVID-19. His heart infection landed him in the hospital for a week, but the prognosis was positive.

I tried phoning John several times May 9 and finally reached him on the third attempt. The pace of his speech seemed slow, but we caught up with one another and had a lovely chat. We even reminisced about old neighbors and teachers, and the time he put me in his bike basket and pedaled up Grand Avenue to Dunkin’ Donuts.

We talked about matters of faith, including one of my mom’s favorite observations: “Heaven is my home, but I’m not yet homesick.”

I was at my desk in my basement home office this past Monday morning when my phone rang, revealing my brother as the caller. It struck me as strange that he’d be ringing me in the middle of a workday, but I answered with enthusiasm.

It wasn’t John – it was his sweet wife, Robyn.

“John’s just been taken by ambulance to the hospital,” she began, her voice full of emotion. “We think he had a stroke.” Unfortunately, she was right.

Emergency surgery soon followed, successfully removing the blood clot from my brother’s brain. Doctors say strokes are like forest fires – clearing the clot stops the fire, but the damage remains. An MRI revealed the stroke attacked the communication center of John’s brain…

Life can change in an instant. It sounds a bit woo-woo to say there’s no such thing as “tomorrow” – but it’s technically true. The only time we’re guaranteed is right now…

Is there someone you’ve been meaning or wanting to talk with? Is there someone you love who you feel compelled to let them know it? Stop putting it off. I’d encourage you to call them today.

And if you’re a praying person, we’d be eternally grateful if you might say a prayer for my brother and his family. Thank you.

Excerpt from Fox News article by Paul Batura.

Who can you call today? Ask the Lord who needs your encouragement, and then call them.