Peace in times of crisis, part 1

When Jackson was in the first grade (he's in fourth now), the first week of school he broke his arm. Oh, but to know my overachiever child. He didn't just "break" his arm, he literally broke both of the bones in his right forearm in HALF. No he didn't mean to do it but we always pick on him when he does something he does it "big".

I remember that day so clearly, like it was yesterday. We were living in our apartment, and the playground was right across from our building. I could sit on our front balcony and watch the kids play. This day my nephew was over visiting, and being nine, I let both kids go with him to the playground. I was in the hallway sorting laundry, and our neighbor in the building across from us knocked on the door. It was August, so I had the big door open with the screen up in the storm door. He called my name as he was knocking.

I went to the door and he said "I think Jackson has broke his arm", and as he started talking I saw Jackson coming up the stairs with his cousin helping him, Hannah, three and a half at the time, tagging along behind them. Jackson was crying, but not outrageously crying at that point. He looked at me and as he said "mommy my arm" he went to lift it, and two inches from above his wrist, down, did not raise with the rest of his arm- his hand was separated from his arm, holding by skin, and the fact that the bones broke diagonally so there was that keeping the skin below the break and above the break from actually making a 90o angle.

I took one look, looked at our neighbor, and said "can you stay with him out here a minute?", he said yes, and that was when I went outside of myself and the Lord took over through my body. It sounds funny to read that, but really, that is what it was like. By myself, I would not have been able to stay calm as I saw my son's arm broke in half, already turning purple within minutes of the accident. The accident? His cousin pushed him as he was going across the monkey bars, he fell, and his arm was 90o to the ground, and the impact of his body on his arm caused it to snap.

As I turned around from my neighbor, I reached for my phone, called Jay and said "stop what you're doing, Jackson has broke his arm we're headed for the hospital right now". Jay, being Jay, says "are you sure it's broken?", to whcih I answer "I'm looking at it, and his hand is dangling from the rest of his arm", and he said "Okay, I'll meet you there". As I go to grab my keys and a towel, all I could say was "Lord, help me ...", and he did. By then our neighbor was helping him back down the stairs to my car, the mother of the other little boy they were playing with was taking my nephew and Hannah to her apartment, we get him settled in the back seat, and off we go.

I call my sister to tell her what happened, and God gave me the grace to have that conversation (may He have the glory for that), as that was not a time for conflict resolution between the kids, I just needed to let her know what was going on so she knew where her son was as I was babysitting while she worked. Jackson was crying louder now as the adrenaline was starting to wear and the pain was starting to settle in. I was captive in my own front seat driving when all I wanted to do was take him in my arms and "make it all better", maybe even cry with him a little.
However, as I was talking calmly to him, and he was still semi rational, it dawned on me. I needed to look at the road, instead of in the back seat. The whole time I know I was praying under my breath, I believe that was the only way I was really remembering to breath. As I was talking as soothingly as I could, the Lord led me to call one of my friends (a good friend) in another state. We had prayed a number of times on the phone and she has a VERY soothing voice, especially when she prays. I called her, and put her on the phone with Jackson. They had spoken before, she wasn't a stranger at all to him.

The sobs stopped as soon as he got on the phone with her. She prayed with him the rest of the ride to the hospital, about fifteen minutes. THAT is a good friend! He was SO calm, and SO settled after that, it was nothing short but the work of God.

It was peace, in a time of crisis, for this mother.
Stay tuned for part two this Wednesday :)