There is nothing more upsetting than a phone call at 3:17 a.m. answering and hearing your son crying uncontrollably. Asking what is wrong? Are you okay? Where are you? Trying to remain calm in order to calm him and his mind but inside I am a total, emotional mess. The sobbing is lessening but he is still crying and expressing what he is going through. Working out of town and being almost three hours away.
Do I jump in my car and go to him or do I talk him through the night until he regains control, which I did for two hours. Finally, he sounds like my son again and getting a grip from being overwhelmed with life upon his shoulders, tiredness and hungry.
I prayed for him as he cried, we discussed how this is when he needs to call out upon the Lord. Reminding him of God’s love.
We talked about everything imaginable in order to redirect his thoughts and emotions in order to drive home safely. His awareness of the Lord was definitely there and has been.
He was telling me that earlier in the day, driving to the event he was working, there was a wreck in front of him. A semi and a car ahead of him, the car rolled over. This scene has played in his mind since, seeing the girl in the car. He did not stop to help. The regrets were tugging at his heart since but also knowing he was just feet from being involved, too, as his car skidded but then straightened and moved out of the way. The fear that was felt seeing a semi headed in your direction but then control of the car happened. Son, please recognize that was the Hand of God, and he knew it. He regrets that he did not help the girl and pray with her. This whole accident right before his eyes will haunt him for a bit if not longer, as it replays in his mind. It was traumatic as it would anyone.
Now thinking back of it all and how he was afraid to drive home. Not only fear but shock. While working, he had to focus on his job and was with others, but afterward and alone, it was all when it all hit by feeling it was all unreal but knowing it was real.
Hearing what he was telling me, it definitely could have been worse. I had to deal with my own panic and fear knowing how close he was to this accident. I’ll take my son crying uncontrollably three hours away, as I thank God for keeping him safe.
He was open to hear me pray, thanked me for being his mother, a shining light to him and everything a mom wants to hear but not in this manner and or distance between us. I want my boy! My arms cannot reach him but God’s arms are around him. I, too, must trust Him at this time.
Just this past week, in a job he was filming, I thought to myself, that this is not an ordinary job but was orchestrated by the Lord. There has always been a calling of God on his life, he knows it.
As he sits in the empty parking lot, looking at the stars of which we also discussed, I told him this is a great time to surrender his life to the Lord, He’s calling.
I had my bags packed to travel the three hours, if need be. Myself praying for direction, what am I to do Lord? Do I go, do I stay? I’m here, waiting for his check-ins every thirty miles, as he is together enough to drive. There is no rest until I know he pulls his car in his driveway and calls to say, Mom, I’m home.
As you read my blog, this one especially, as I have shared others blogs about my son, would you please say a prayer for him? Thank You! ✝️
What will tomorrow, next week, next month or next year look like? You know what? I do not know. None of us know, do we? Life can change in a second. All I know to do and the same with you is to take one day at a time. Years ago, my sister gave me wise advice, which was if one day was too much, take one hour at a time. Honestly, there have been times that I have had to do just that, sometimes a minute at a time.
phase in their life was happening. Okay, I’ve got this. Even in these years, I wonder if they remember and have good memories of their mom. I was there for them, I always will be but less so they could grow into adulthood, loosening the apron strings
pushed my way through for them. Do they remember? Or do they remember and did they feel the underlying anger I had toward their dad? The dark days of depression added and being buried with much grief of not just my parent’s deaths, but the death of my marriage, a marriage I always desired but will never have, and most importantly time with my boys and us all as a family unit. Grief in all ways was surrounding me. Those were rough days… years. I hope they don’t remember. I would like to forget it myself.
men now and doing well. Will they need counseling one day to help in areas from childhood? I do not know but if they do, I will support them to do so. I want only the best for them. Perhaps with my own work in these areas, this will stop the pattern in generations to come.
Just Pondering... 