The Accident-Throwback Storytime *with update*

*This is the original text I sent in January of 2022, the accident took place on 12/21/2021*

One month ago today, a few days after the memorial services… Benjamin and I were hit head on in the van. He needed a moment away from the house and I took him about a mile and a half up the road to a dollar tree. A 16-year-old was trying to show Boat (per onlookers) and zoomed out of a side parking lot, sped up and hit us as we were pulling ahead from a full stop at the stop sign. Both airbags deployed and burst. Ben and I were ok, but I didn’t even share this because I was numb. God kept us, but it was truly just…unreal. It was a blur, it was dark, and I didn't even know what the guy looked like.  Patrons from the local restaurants came running out screaming at the guy and taking pictures. Then an elderly grandmother came over, laid hands on Benjamin and I, and prayed over us in Jesus's name.   Benji was so brave he didn’t even cry.  He may have also just been overwhelmed with shock.  Two of the kindest cops came to the scene and talked to me and encouraged me. They stated that they normally did not do crash sites but when they heard over the radio about our circumstance (our recent loss) they wanted to come and check on us. The next morning, I was gearing up for what I thought may be a fight with the insurance company. But when I called in, the representative interrupted me stating that the father who owned the car had already called Geico and claimed fault for the accident. We just got our van back today, lots of memories. Lots of sadness…and divine comfort. Thanks for checking on us & praying.

**Update from July 2022**

A car wash recently opened up near our home.  They have the best vacuums and so we stop there often.  A few weeks ago, as I was headed into the tunnel, one of the workers stopped and asked if I had been in an accident.  I replied that I hadn't since it had been a while ago and I had many other things on my mind.  He said, "Oh okay because I was in an accident a while back and this van looks familiar." When he said that, I asked if he was in an accident in the plaza up the street.  He confirmed and I told him, "Yes, you hit me and my baby."  He replied, "Ma'am I've felt so bad about that this whole time. I'm really sorry for what I did." In that moment, I was able to forgive him and tell him to have a blessed day.  Of all of the things going through my head and heart during that moment, I remember just being humbled and grateful to be a part of this young man's story.  So many people don't get a chance to right a wrong. The fact that he "found me" and I was able to give him my forgiveness was.... I won't forget that."

Mommy & Benji 2020

All Emptied Out

Waking up earlier than usual, dentist appointments, therapy sessions, meetings, meet-ups, etc.  all got overwhelming and I was tapped by the end of the week.  I actually had to stop and cancel my last meeting on Friday because I was just done.  I had no more go-go juice.  Coupled with the myriad of emotional highs, lows, triumphs, and trying moments-this week wore me out.  I was talking to one of the kids and they expressed a thought that I recently had myself "How do we keep doing this? How does it actually work?"  This referring to our abrupt, unwelcomed reality. So here are some revelations and realizations from the past seven days:

My Sleep

For the most part, I've been able to sleep better than I could have anticipated. Even in the beginning, with the right tea, essential oils and clearly much prayer from the village-sleep was had.  The mornings would try to choke me out, though.  As time has progressed, I've learned that sleep hasn't been a friend.  Most people say, "Get some sleep" or "Hope you rest well" and that's normal and I usually don't have a response.  But lately I'm learning that sleep can be both a friend and a foe. Yes, it closes the chapter on the day and allows me to put one more mark under the "Days I've Survived the Stupid", column. But no amount of sleep prepares me to face another day without my person. Our person.  It just reminds me that I am where I am. This is crazy; sleep isn't a friend at all. 

My Son

This week I watched Christian pour himself into leading adorable Kindergarteners in worship at Vacation Bible School. He couldn't sleep, he was so excited to wake up early each morning and go to his volunteer "job." He spoke with excitement about the kids' enthusiasm and dance moves. The songs spoke of God's design for us, and His creative nature.  As we walked through the parking lot at the end of each session, Christian would high- five the little ones on their way to the car.  This was his element.  I marveled at how God used my son, my  grieving son, to minister to others.  As the week waned, he was exhausted-physically and spiritually.  So my mommy-meter went off, and I took him aside and asked him about his Dad.  He needed that invitation to get some things out.  But for the rest of the weekend he was somber, particularly Sunday.   "At church they sing songs about God being all of these things, but He wasn't a healer. He did not heal him.  Everyone else is going home after church to hang out with their Dad, but not me." 

These beautiful children, deserve their Dad. 

The songs are still hard for us.

 My Soul

A few weeks ago, a song came to mind and even now I don't remember when or where I first heard it.  I sang it out loud to see if the kids remembered the rest of it.  The lyrics that did come to mind were "Awake , my soul, and sing; sing His praise aloud."  Kendall immediately and melodically chimed in and finished the song by Hillsong.  A few days later, she sent me a video of her singing the song and playing the chords.  Most of our close family knows that Kendall is the jack of all trades.  She can try something once and be instantly great at it. She can learn anything.  For whatever reason, she took that song and turned around and blessed me with it. I don't know what God is doing, I hear the messages that He is sending. Through my pain, anger, sorrow and disappointment, I still hear Him.

Today I went to church, and I sang. Even though I wasn't fully there, I knew what I was singing was true. I knew that the name of Jesus, my Jesus, Patrick's Jesus, could not be rivaled.

*I do not own rights to this beautiful music*

Pouring Passionately : Father & Sons

I have often thought about the conversations that Patrick and I had about the children, so many of them. The ones that have particularly stood out to me as of late, are the ones where he would say to me "Sometimes, you're not going to understand what or why when I'm dealing with our sons and that's okay. Some of these are men to men things."  Most of the time, I bowed out.  Although sometimes I wanted to interject, I knew his heart and that I didn't know what it was like to be a father, or a son."

I took notice very early on after our loss at how mature our boys were. They stepped up, big time. I realized that although I was devastated, and still am, that they don't have Patrick here for guidance, he truly did an excellent job of pouring into them and training them to be young men of God.  There are lingering lessons that he taught and ways that he modeled for them that were beyond their years. He laid a rich foundation. When I see them walking out their faith and displaying godly and chivalrous virtues, it makes this seem somewhat bearable. I also recognize the gift of God in giving us such full, intense, lively years of intentional parenting together.  

Patrick was always down for an adventure. I'd research something, plan it and say, "alright Babe, today you guys are doing xyz." He never complained, he just grabbed the kids and set off while I stood by capturing all of the moments in pictures.  I can't remember what research led me to this devotional, "Called to Greatness" but when I did Patrick fell in love with it.  Night after night, he sat down with the boys and had time of devotion.  He taught them about faith, fellowship and family.  It was such a good time of study and enlightenment; they went through it twice and even gifted it to a few other families.  It's things like this that I hold dear, the images of my husband "breaking bread" as he called it with his sons. Making this load for me, today, a little lighter. Even in his absence, he's still a giver.

The Man Test-by Christian

Hello, my name is Christian, and the title today is, “The Man Test”.

One thing I always found myself waiting for was… manhood! Yes, I know that sounds strange, but I was counting the years, impatiently waiting to become a man.  I remember I was eight years old, I ran to my dad and said “Dad! I’m growing a mustache!” So, he pulled out his flashlight and said, “that’s peach fuzz!”  I refused to believe I was not growing up, so Elijah and I would take Dad’s man test every now and then.  I failed the test every time, but it was fun trying. The test consisted of:

1. Not laughing when being tickled

2. Being able to hit Dad's hand before he closed it

3. Not reacting to being thumped or pinched

Back then I couldn’t wait to grow up, but not anymore.  I would like adulthood to come slowly, VERY SLOWLY. I would not like to rush the years anymore because right now, I have been without my dad for a few months, and it makes me sad thinking about looking back as a grown man knowing that I lost my dad at twelve. Even though they were very full years, there should have been more. That’s what makes this situation so stupid to me. Why could there not have been more years?  Y’all I am stumped.  Dad planned to have a big ranch and use it as a getaway for pastors looking for a break. He would say, “We’re going to have horses, canoes and lots of acres for our whole family to live on.” It pains me to think of all the plans we made and did not get to do together. 

But then I think of all that Dad has done. He started a church, a family, brought Jesus Christ to the people in dark places, he did a lot.  Was it all he was supposed to do? We won’t know until the other side.  But, he helped a lot of people and I am proud of him. I am upset, but he is perfect now and we are still struggling.  Yes, hurting and that’s okay. The Bible says "weep with those who weep", and God understands. He does not expect us to be joyful all the way. He wants us to express our grief through tears, it’s okay. Dad always said, “Son, if you need to cry, cry.”  And even though that comforts me a little bit, it doesn’t bring him back.  As sad as that is, it’s true. So, I want to take life one step at a time, grieve as a kid, and then I will worry about the rest when the time comes. To all who are reading this, take your time and grieve too. Love you guys.