the smallest details
I meandered out of Target after picking up a few things my husband needed right away and perusing the aisles while the store was once again quiet and calm, the crowds dispersed at last until the end of the year. I'd found slippers 75% off for myself as well as some nice socks on clearance, then refurbished our supply of soymilk and bananas, grabbed some strawberries on sale. Upon getting in the car and turning out onto the street, I was chatting with my husband on my cell phone, seeing how his day was wrapping up. I glanced at the dashboard clock and gasped; my heart began to pound. I had approximately 5 minutes--2 if she was early, 9 if she was late--to make it home in time to meet the school bus. But, I was 15 minutes from home (I know how long it takes to get to my Target...I frequent it, well, frequently!).
I got off the phone and began to pray in earnest. A small thing, really, but my car needed wings and safety. Oh, and my son's bus really needed to be late. I know they won't leave him at the house if I'm not home, but how frightened and forgotten would my sensitive little man feel? It was a rocky week for him already and my not being home would worry him for sure.
I put in a call to my across-the-street neighbor with kids of her own, though she drives them to and from school; I know she often gets home right before the bus arrives, and I was hoping she'd see it--even if all it did was reassure him I was okay and on my way since I knew the driver would not let him off in the care of a stranger (something I am quite thankful for, really). However, I spoke frantically to only her answering machine.
My car sailed, glided, whatever you want to call it. I stayed behind a line of cars that went faster than the average, but not too fast (I'm very particular about pushing the speed limit very far). Miss C was calm and restful in the back versus the occasional cranky attitude that seems to get stuck in her carseat with her. I made it home in 12 minutes. I was breathless and hopeful and fearful and a thousand other things all at once. I parked in the driveway just in case the bus had not arrived, so there would be no mistaking I was home, left my peaceful little girl in her carseat while I checked the mail, peering down the street, then ran inside to call the school, fully expecting no one to answer. But, answer the blessed lady did, and she said the bus had not radioed her yet about a parent not being home at our house, so it would seem they were late. My entire being began to relax at last as I hurried back down the driveway. Sure enough, as I hung up with her, the bus rolled around the corner up the hill from us.
My poor heart was still slowing down as they stopped at our home; it turns out there was a problem with a road on their route and the driver had to take a detour. She had called Transporation to report it and everything. My son's bus was more than 10 minutes late that day, and never have I been so thankful for road delays.
By chance? Not on your life. Every prayer I breathed was answered. My God is in the smallest details of my life and my heart overflows with this. My car indeed sprouted wings, with more safety than I could have fathomed. My son's bus was indeed late, and I met it with my little boy safe and sound and he was spared the worry of wondering where his mommy was.
3 comments:
WOW! Did that ever work out! I hate that feeling of being late and just checking the time constantly, willing it to slow down.
I'm sure if I had a Target here, I too would be late more often than I expect :)
:-)
I could feel your anxiety as I read your post, having been there many times during my children's growing up years. Isn't it wonderful to not look on these miracles as coincidences, but see them for what they are. Kind actions of a God who recognizes the lure of on-sale slippers and peaceful moments of wandering the aisles, and loves our children even more than we do.
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