In the middle of the night, my husband and I were awakened by the telephone. Alarmed, I listened intently to my husband’s conversation to determine who was calling. It was our 21 year old son. He had fallen asleep at the wheel while driving home from a friend’s house. This was his second wreck in three years. After escaping the first crash, I felt sudden terror as I anxiously awaited to hear if he’d been so fortunate this time. He assured his dad that he was okay, but the car was totaled. “Just look for the flashing lights of the emergency vehicles on the interstate heading north and you’ll know where I am,” Mitch said, still shaken by the accident. Mitch was only four months old when his biological father died. Since he was four years old, Pat has been the only dad he has ever known. Pat left immediately after receiving Mitch’s call, leaving me behind with our other two children who were still sleeping. I waited alone with no one to keep me company, but my worry.
When Pat arrived, he found Mitch’s demolished car hugging the mangled 50 foot guardrail that had kept him from crossing the highway into oncoming traffic. Mitch, however, had not suffered a single scratch, bruise, or broken bone—not one. His dad was stunned, but the policeman was astonished even more. The officer told Mitch, “I’m proud of you, son, for being clean, but you still shouldn’t be out this late at night. And If I were you, I wouldn’t go home and go to bed. I’d go to the nearest church and thank God for saving your life because He obviously has a purpose for it. I’ve seen many wrecks just like yours, but I’ve never seen anyone walk away from a scene like this one. Your mom and dad should be standing in the funeral home today looking over your dead body. Instead, a guard rail stopped your car from crossing into oncoming traffic, the only guard rail in miles of this highway. You stepped out of a mangled car in one piece as if nothing happened. That’s a miracle if I’ve ever seen one!” It was as if God was speaking directly through the officer. Pat drove Mitch home in silence. The policeman had said it all. What more could he add?
Sunday afternoon Pat and I drove Mitch to the junkyard to retrieve Mitch’s personal belongings from the car. Pat pulled up in front of the damaged car. He and Mitch got out and went into the office to present the registration form that allowed us to enter the car. It was then, sitting there alone, that I noticed the date 9-9 painted in large orange numbers across the windshield of the mangled car. That’s when it hit me. Mitch’s accident occurred on the anniversary of his father’s death. Stranger still, they were exactly the same age. My worst fear was staring me in the face. All of sudden, as my eyes fixed on the date, I realized it was a message from God—an undeniable clear sign from above. Mitch was in the hands of God. “That’s right,” I said to myself. “He is. Therefore, Satan, you can’t scare me anymore.”
God has a different plan for Mitch than he had for his dad. I always knew that truth intellectually, but that day in the junkyard it became a reality. How could I doubt God anymore when my son walked away from a near death experience on the anniversary of his father’s death? I couldn’t. Not only did this experience prove that God is in control, but it confirmed that I was not. The only power or control I have as a parent is to get on my knees and relinquish all my fears to God while trusting in His good and perfect plan for my children. The only power and control you and I have over any fear is to place it in the care of God.
You and I must not allow ourselves to be taunted day and night by “What if?” We must trust God’s plan. Only then will fear give way to peace.
This excerpt was taken from my book, An Untroubled Heart…Finding a Faith Stronger Than All My Fear
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