After that phone call came to us on that night our world began to change. I thought my world was over, and I even began to blame "the devil" for trying to stop God's plan for my son's life and for my life. Of course there were many other people to consider who were connected to us. Britt came home beat up and very sore. We put him in the bed and I crawled up next to him as his Dad tried to sort out some of his bloody things in another room. His head was bandaged and I didn't know if he was understanding much of what I was saying. "Hey, buddy, you need anything?" His eye twitched and he asked "No, where's my stuff?" I replied, "what was not with the car is in the next room". "Do you know what happened?" I asked. "No, not really, but I know I really screwed up, Mom." "Were you trying to kill yourself?", "I don't know". He lay there like a helpless child moaning and I just put my hand on him as I had done countless times and prayed.
In a few days we went to the lot to get his belongings from his jeep. I cried. His Dad and I had to dig his bible and his sermon notes, his seminar material, paperwork from his building business (which he did on the side to help support himself), and basically his whole life from the debris. Mixed with the grass and dirt was his blood, the cracked windshield held pieces of hair and blood, and the sheet they had on the gurney had dropped so I picked up the blood soaked sheet to keep, as only a Mother would do. As I held it I had never felt so out of control. My child had come so close to dying, and I couldn't have stopped it. I would realize later that I didn't need to have any part of it.
From there you can imagine all he went through, we were there supporting, and we found out what he had been hiding all along. He was struggling in his marriage and the pressures to be a perfect young Pastor, giving support to his Mother who had been sick and was running from court depositions and the media (we will discuss later) and a sister with abuse issues, not to mention other close family members with major personal problems,and a building business on the decline. And a wavering church wondering what was going on with him, it was far too much. When he tried to be "transparent" it only back fired and no one could possibly understand the bizarre circumstances we found ourselves in.
"And now the rest of the story", as Paul Harvey use to say, or I think that's what he said. Some of you are too young to remember him, but those of you who do, here it is, it wasn't the "devil" crushing us, even though it has taken years for us to understand this. He has no power in our lives. It has been a slow and deliberate process of God's power to free our family from religious bondage and from the uncertainty of allowing people to play God in our lives. It is awesome when God can take His rightful place and you no longer have control. Our family now lives"one day at a time". And I"ll continue this story later.
But, in closing, to show you what I mean, I had the closest brush with heaven the other night. It was just as the sun was going down and my daughter and her husband, my two Grandchildren and my husband and I took a swim. My Mother sat on the side to watch. The sky was changing colors, and the lights in our pool were changing colors as well. The fountain we have was making droplets fall on the water around us, all was quiet, a small breeze gently stirred the trees and lightening bugs were flickering here and there. It had been a hot day so the pool was tepid and felt like a bath. We were all just relaxing, the kids would swim from one of us to another laughing and squealing. Everyone was smiling. We felt unconditional love, we felt peace and even joy. As I floated along, I looked up to see the first star peek out from the colorful clouds and my Granddaughter came over to sing our song "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star". Then I closed my eyes and I could feel those I loved who had gone before me. My sister, my Dad, my Mom-in-law, smiling at us, and suddenly I was wrapped up in the love of the Father of life, just for a moment all was well with the world. I breathed it in. That was heaven.
And the moral of this story is, sometimes when you look at the "bloody blanket" and you feel so out of control, go with it, it may save your life!
