But If Not...
When my son had his wreck over 17 years ago, I didn't leave the floor we were on for 10 days. Then, I only went to the cafeteria to get something to eat. I recall waking up in the SICU waiting room, trying to recalibrate my mind to what was going on, and hoping it'd all been a bad dream. From the beginning, I knew that God was in it. (Whatever that meant.) Honestly, I thought God would touch Chris, he'd do some rehabilitation, and we'd all go back to what we were doing before the crash. Somehow, I thought, and hoped, that I'd wake up and see God riding in a white horse and rescuing us. Obviously, that did not happen! I openly and frankly admit my frustrations with God and the times I spent so angry at Him for allowing this to happen. But I kept finding that I really couldn't do life without Him, wreck or no wreck. I needed Him to hold me and carry me, no matter how mad I was at Him. All of these thoughts came rushing back in as I was reminded of the story of...