Let Freedom Ring

If a woman who loses her husband is called a widow, what is a mother who loses her son called?


It happened this morning as I turned the corner to get on the elevator. I'd just had breakfast in the cafeteria and had allowed myself the luxury of bringing a book and eating slowly, leisurely, for the first time since I got here. I didn't actually read the book, I couldn't eat that slowly, but it was there on the table next to my tray of fruit and yogurt and granola.


As I walked back to the elevator and turned the corner, it hit me. I don't know why, but I had a vision of my leaving the hospital alone. Without Parker. Which is how it would have been if he had died from this. This vision flashed by before I had a chance to realize what it was, but left me with no doubt in my mind that God was walking right next to me, and had been here the whole time. He wanted me to know.


Throughout the night I kept waking up to hear Parker talking to himself.


"I've never been this motivated bfore."


"I am so grateful."


"I have another chance."


"I can't wait to start my life again."


"I'm so excited about the changes."


"I'm so grateful."


"I've never been this motivated before."


When I asked him about it, he told me he was having talks with himself all night. He'd had an epiphany and realized how close he had come to death, to not having another chance to get healthy. To not having the opportunity to do all the things he wanted to do in his life.


I'm not positive he gets it yet that the conversations were between he and God, not just himself. But he'll get it. I know God is here, walking next to us. He'll see to it we are pushed in the right direction. It is up to us to listen and respond.


But now Parker can hear.