My One Small Miracle

graduation

There is no way that anyone will ever be able to convince me that there isn’t a God. Ever. Today is one example of why…

Tomorrow is my son Jonathan’s high school graduation. Let me give you a little background on the boy. He is somewhat of a freak of nature as far as kids are concerned. He rarely ever cried unless he was hungry or needed his diaper changed. I don’t ever remember having to spank him or discipline him in any way other than the one time his older brother was being a super butthead to him and Jonathan got so angry he punched Michael…and then cried because he felt bad. He was always intensely focused on his studies and never got anything less than a B on his report card. I don’t know what I ate when I was pregnant with him, but this kid is an enigma. And then today came…

There is a rule in our house: If it’s not on the calendar, it doesn’t exist in my world. I have 9 schedules to keep track of and I can’t do it all from memory nor will I be held responsible for something I don’t even know about. If you have work, it better be on the calendar or you’re walking. It’s as simple as that. Graduation practice was not on the calendar, nor was I ever verbally told when it was. So this morning after I dropped my other son off for his last day of educational bliss for the year, I headed straight to the laundromat to beat the Wednesday rush. All’s going well when I get a text from my daughter that goes something like this: “Jonathan needed to be at graduation rehearsal 6 minutes ago and no one was home so he just left on Michael’s bike ’cause he said he can’t miss it.”

Immediately, I feel like throwing up. Did I miss something? Why did I not know about graduation practice when I carefully and methodically planned out my whole morning so as to miss the crowd at the laundromat? Was it on the calendar? A thousand thoughts rushed through my head at once. I called my daughter and got the low-down, rushed back into the laundromat and stuffed everything into baskets like a mad woman, loaded the baskets into my truck like it was my job and headed home.

On the drive, I kept asking myself questions out loud…did he think to wear a helmet? Did he take the back road instead of the main road? Why did he not mention this when we talked last night? And why didn’t he set an alarm? Would he get there in time? Would they still let him walk for graduation? Will his whole educational career hang in the balance because he made one careless mistake? I mean sure, he’d still graduate, but to not be able to walk at graduation because you made one mistake like not setting an alarm would be just a horrible thing to have to live with, especially as an honor grad.

Then I started to pray…I prayed that he got there safely, I prayed that he got there in time to be not so lateish, I prayed that maybe as he snuck into practice the guidance counselors were looking the other way and didn’t notice him not being there in the first place, after all, there were hundreds of kids in his class. I prayed that he would not have to sacrifice the one thing he has busted his hiney for for the last 13 years…the one thing he was most looking forward to. And then the bargaining phase set in. “Jesus, if you have mercy on my boy I swear I will never cuss again…” and it just went downhill from there.

Finally, I get home and like little soldiers, my kids run out to the truck to grab the laundry baskets and lug them into the house so I can haul my cookies up to the school to make sure Jonathan got there safely. I drive up to the school and am scanning the place like a crazed stalker looking for a kid with a bike. No dice. Nothing. Then I check my rear view mirror and see a single file line of kids coming out of the school and heading to the stadium. That’s GOT to be them…and if my kid got there in time he will be somewhere near the front of the line. I inch up in my truck and start scoping out kids…nope, nope, nope, not mine, that one’s a girl, nope…and then there he was in all his glory smokin’ and jokin’ with his buddies. He made it on time and safe. God is good…all the time!

As it turns out, practice started 45 minutes late, so it hadn’t even started by the time he got there. He has never biked faster before in his life and that was the first time I had to chew his butt about something…and I’m sure he won’t forget it any time soon. There is no logical reason that he didn’t get hit by a truck on that busy road riding his bike or that practice was a whopping 45 minutes late in starting. I’m convinced it was nothing more than a small miracle and an answered prayer lifted up by a crazed mom who was worried about her not so little boy.

There is no way that anyone will ever be able to convince me that there isn’t a God. Ever. Today is one example of why.

One thought on “My One Small Miracle

  1. Kassy

    Thanks for your inspiring words Teresa!! It’s tough to be a mom. Know that as both our kids cross the exact same stage tomorrow night, that we have done all we can …. we keep hoping and praying for them, and now they are adults ….. oh my!

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