The winter storm smacked us hard Monday night right before our youngest finished his shift at PetSmart. A twenty minute straight shot down I-43 should be nothing, right? But I’ve learned never to assume any trip will end well.
A while ago, a woman who has worked as relief staff for our daughter’s assisted living home nearly lost her youngest son. Right after acquiring his driver’s license, he hit a stretch of black ice on his way to school. His car slid off the road, slammed into a tree, and left him unconscious. He spent weeks clinging to life in the ICU of Children’s Hospital. His prospects weren’t good. Nevertheless, our whole faith community went to work, praying continually. In the end, God spared this young man’s life. Not only that. The brain damage doctors predicted never happened. Though I’m exceedingly grateful for his miraculous recovery, I know not every dire situation ends as we hope and pray.
My intercessory prayers have not always been answered with a “yes”. Some 30 years ago, a friend broke his neck right in front of me after diving into shallow water and, in an instant, became a life-long quadriplegic. Twenty years of praying for about our kids’ disabilities has not healed. I’ve heard a “no” from God or a “not yet” and I’ve not liked hearing those answers at times. Yet, God keeps helping me trust Him for the endings I can’t see. God has taught me that He’s far more interested in a mutually loving relationship with me than one where I treat Him like a vending machine, slipping in my prayers expecting to receive exactly what I order. God has grander gifts in mind than my mind can ever conceive.
As I laid in bed at 10 PM, praying for our soon-to-be 20-year-old son’s safe trip home, I realized God might not say “yes” this time. Nick might slip off the road and hit a tree, or a semi-tractor trailer, or a concrete embankment, or an oncoming vehicle. I laid there realizing that this son I kissed goodbye six hours before might never look me in the eye again, might not ever be there for me to wrap my arms around again, might never annoy me again. I laid there thankful that I did what I always do whenever one of my family leaves my presence. I tell them I love them.
But my love for my family can’t save them. Their lives are in the hands of our Lord who has numbered their days from the beginning. Their lives are in the heart of our Lord who always does what’s best, even when what’s best seems crazy and brings heart-breaking grief.
So I laid there under the green flannel sheets as the wind howled fierce, rattling the glass. Then the phone rang. My husband picked up.
“Dad. It’s Nick. A deer ran in front of me. I couldn’t stop. I slid off the road into the ditch.”
I could hear him giving Todd the details of his location.
“I’m by the ravine just north of our driveway.”
He sounded calm and I could tell he wasn’t hurt. I laid there and gave thanks that he was just stuck in a ditch, that he wasn’t going so fast as to plunge twenty feet to the bottom of that ravine thick with trees.
“Stay in the car and leave the lights on. I’ll be there in a minute.”
Todd got out of bed, put his contacts in, dressed, grabbed a chain from the garage, drove the Tahoe with a hitch down our long drive, found Nick in the ditch, and pulled him out. Not a scratch on our kid or his car. And he missed the deer too!
This time, God said “yes” and I am thankful! But even if God had taken Nick to his heavenly home rather than ours, I would still give thanks, even in the midst of great grief, because I know where my son would be—in a place where there is no more death and no more tears—in a place where we’ll both get to live together forever, all because of the One who died and rose again. For us.
Give thanks to the LORD, for he is good; his love endures forever.
Psalm 118:29