Argghh…My husband says at the end of a grueling day this week. “I feel like I’ve run a marathon.” I laugh and say “We did.” I quip. “A paper marathon.” Continue reading “This Daughter’s Walk”
Some days the everyday miracles are not so subtle. The hit hard enough that a big Thank You is needed.
Tuesday was a typical day for me at my job. My husband was taking my dad for the weekly shopping trip. I was wrapping up towards the end of the workday, and switching the gears from Career Gal to Errand Mom when I got the call. You know the one:
“Hi Honey. There’s been an accident”
He says “We’re okay!” At the same time I said “Was anybody hurt?”
Not understanding I say “What?” He responds that he and dad are safe.
“Oh thank you Lord” I whisper (Gratitude gift 1).
He explains a car passed him and clipped the front of his van. I signed off to finish my work, run errands and head home. In cubicle land you can’t get a phone call without at least half a dozen people hearing it. Literally! Not always a good thing. In this instance it was a good thing. As I said goodbye on the phone, two colleagues called out. “Is everything okay?”
I’ve written a little about how I haven’t felt very good about my workplace lately. But on Tuesday it felt really great to have two people in my area call out to find out if I was okay. I walked over and let them know it would be alright giving them the few details I had (Gratitude gift 2).
I shoved the accident aside in my mind and went about my chores. I would get the details later. My errands were failures. I couldn’t concentrate to figure out alternatives when the things I needed were not available. Getting into my car after my third and final stop it struck me so hard I had to sit down. The ‘coulda wouldas’ hit me hard. My heart started hammering so hard I thought it would pound out of my chest.
I thought about the road they were driving. My dad still lives in the rural area I grew up in. His property is off a dirt road that comes off a major trucking route with drainage ditches on either side. There are bad accidents on this stretch of road all the time.
They coulda been killed. Raced through my mind. I coulda lost my husband and my father today. Pound, Pound, Pound goes my heart. I woulda be burying them…Yeah my thoughts aren’t always grammatically correct. I tell myself to calm down and get the whole story. I get myself home and nobody is there. My heart, which had not stopped beating fast, ramped up a notch.
I get in the door. “What do I do?” I asked the empty house. “Talk to me” whispers through my brain (Gratitude gift 3). “Okay” I whisper back as I lock the door. I remember my rosary podcasts. Fumbling with my phone I pull one of the podcasts of the rosary. I turn up the volume and set the phone on the table. I begin to pace as I cite the rosary with the recording. A wonderful thing about rote prayer is how it stops the evil one from by replacing the earthly thoughts with peace. The peace begins loosening the grip of fear on my heart. The couldas and wouldas in my head begin to fade. I can’t hear them anymore. I pace and pray (Gratitude gift 4).
With each decade of the sorrowful mysteries of the rosary, I find myself praising God for the gifts I am finding in this incident. God has protected my husband and my father. God is handling the situations in my life. Just as I have asked of him (Gratitude gift 5).
I am just putting one foot in front of the other and going where he leads. Later that evening as my husband recounted the details, I am struck by the miracle God gifted us with. My guys were following a tractor towing farm equipment. As my husband flicked on the blinker to indicate a left hand turn. 300 yards later he started the turn and was clipped by the car attempting to pass. It was a glancing blow. The best possible outcome when an accident is unavoidable (Gratitude gift 6).
Looking at the pictures on his phone, my heart started to pound again. This time from excitement not fear. I said “It’s a miracle.”
“What?” He asked.
“Just thanking God for a miracle. One more foot into the left hand turn and he would have T-boned you in the driver’s door.” Then my woulda coulda would have been a reality I read about all too often in the news. God blessed us with a bona fide miracle this week (Gratitude gift 7). Other than a few aches, pains, scrapes and bruises the guys are okay (still keepin’ an eye on them just to make sure). I’m still praising God for the everyday miracles that come our way.
When we get to meet our Highest Power, I will be asking to see what everyday miracles I missed so I can thank the Big Guy upstairs for blessings uncounted.