'Get a Life Now'

It was New Year’s Eve and I pleaded with my husband to stay home with his family, but he wouldn’t listen. He’d been chugging down the booze all afternoon. In an angry rage he stormed out of the house to attend a New Year’s Eve party, leaving my son and me without transportation. I went into the kitchen to call a supportive friend that I’d met at an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting, only to discover that our phone had been disconnected. Feeling helpless and alone, I sat down on the sofa, took a deep breath, and began to recite the serenity prayer.

God grant me the serenity
to accept the things I cannot change;
courage to change the things I can;
and the wisdom to know the difference.

No sooner had I finished praying than I heard the sound of crashing glass, intermingled with my nine-year-old son’s cries. I hurried to him in the kitchen, wishing I could hide under a blanket, yet knowing I had to deal with this unexpected crisis. From a combination of strong wind and my son shutting the door too hard the storm panel had broken, scattering glass everywhere and piercing my son’s left arm, which was covered in blood. The wound looked like it needed stitches. I pressed a towel against it to stop the bleeding.

“Do I have to go to the hospital?” My son asked as I held him and wiped the tears from his eyes.

“I don’t know yet,” I said. “If you do, I'll walk down to the end of the street and use the pay phone to call an ambulance.”

“What’s wrong with our phone?” He asked.

“Not enough money to pay the bill,” I replied honestly.

My son looked directly into my eyes.

“We had the money, Mom. Daddy just used it to buy booze and that’s why our phone bill wasn’t paid.”

“Your daddy loves us,” I said carefully. “I guess we just need to pray for him," I added as I lifted the towel to look at the wound.

“Daddy could stop drinking if he really wanted to. Maybe you should pray for us instead!” He added, rolling his eyes.

Suddenly we both broke out into peals of laughter. My son always had a way of directly hitting the mark with his humor and being in his presence was a joyful experience. After giggling, I said a quick prayer, similar to the one that Peter prayed when he tried to walk on water.

“God you are the great Physician so I am asking you to attend my son’s arm.” (It was the equivalent of “HELP I AM SINKING!”)

We both said

and I lifted the towel again. The bleeding had stopped.

“Thank you, God,” I said, feeling certain that I wouldn’t have to walk down the lonely road to call an ambulance. I hurried into the bathroom to search for a first aid kit, but I only found a near-empty box with a few cotton balls and a thermometer.

Just as I was about to ask my son about band-aids, my front door bell rang.

I thought, as I walked back down the hall to answer the door.

Continued on page 2: At my door stood a woman with grey hair and blue eyes... »