I've been reflecting lately, over things that I don't want to forget. They weren't good things. They were scary things, actually. But in each instance, I felt God's hand...and just wanted to write it down.
In July of 2013, Brooks was just 3 years old. We were at Freedom Fest at Freedom Church in Owasso. It was absolutely packed. We sat down to eat, and I realized we did not have napkins. Presley was in her stroller and Brooks was standing near her. I ran to get napkins and was only gone for a bit. But when I came back, Brooks was gone. Just gone. I looked everywhere. I was shouting his name. He was gone. It was the most terrifying moment of my life up to that point. We all started scrambling, looking everywhere. The police that were there were notified and started to watch the exits to make sure no one could take him out. Again, there were people everywhere. Our associate pastor got on the stage and made an announcement. Everyone was looking for a little blonde 3 year old. My little blonde 3 year old. Dave was freaking out. Dave never freaks out, but he was now. I could hardly breathe. And then a teenage boy, who was helping to look for him shouted, "I think he's in here. I think he's in the bounce house." Dave and I ran to the bounce house and Dave ripped him up into his arms. I couldn't stop crying. It was truly terrifying. Looking back on that day, I realized just how horrible it could have been, and how God protected my sweet boy that day, as he ran from the table area to the bounce house on the other side of the church grounds.
Years later, I was with my friend Kristine at the pet store. She had her two daughters and I had my kids. Presley was about 3 years old. We were having a fun time, playing with puppies and petting bunnies. We decided we would head home, so Madison opened the door. Before we knew what was happening, Presley ran straight into the parking lot, where a car was speeding by. Praise the Lord, the car slammed on it's brakes as my daughter stopped and froze up in the middle of it's path. I ran ahead and scooped her up in my arms, crying tears of relief.
I'll never forget our car accident in June of 2015. The way that Jeep hit the front end of the car and then spun and hit Brooks' side. But yet, both my babies were perfectly safe, though shaken up. The whole front end of the car was smashed in, but Brooks' side was barely dented.
And then, there was the time that we were traveling back from Arizona. Brooks was about 7 or 8 years old. We parked over to the side, and walked behind the cars at the pump to get to the bathrooms. Then, after we went to the bathroom, we walked back to the car. The kids were walking right beside us. Then, Brooks started screaming. We turned around and realized that he had fallen behind. Apparently he had seen a yogurt wrapper on the ground that had a joke on it. He bent down to get it, right as the car at the pump started to back up. The car hit Brooks and he fell to the ground. Thankfully, it stopped. The lady that was driving the car, with her own children in it, felt a bump and stopped. Had she not, she would have run over his torso.
Each and every one of these stories brings back horrible feelings of what could have been. And yet, it wasn't what happened. They were fine. They were safe. And I am so thankful for God's protection over my babies through the years. Life is so precious and I pray that I never take my blessings for granted.
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