I was too bogged to blog

this story last week. But it's significance still lingers in my thoughts and emotions even now - days later.

"It's bad." Even through the phone line I could detect the worry in Mike's voice.

"How bad?" I'm sure he heard the trepidation in mine.

"Not good. Not good at all."

We were talking about the condition of the boys' car. A half hour earlier Jordan had called saying he had gone over a railroad track and the car had bottomed out on it. Long story short, the transmission pan had cracked and the car promptly lost every drop of oil. Jordan had wisely pulled into a nearby restaurant parking lot and called Mike.

Now Mike was calling me, letting me know he'd called for a tow truck and to expect the car to be in the shop for several days. But he also cautioned me that the cost of the repairs just might exceed the value of the car. With all the damage that seemed to have been done the repair bill could easily run in excess of a thousand dollars or more. Not good. I could tell by the sound of his voice that we most likely had some major vehicle decisions just ahead of us. Decisions that weren't exactly a part of our overall game plan.

See, I had passed my nine-year-old car on to the boys last year at the beginning of Nate's senior year with the understanding that they would drive it until they left for college. At that time, we'd put them each in a good vehicle to take to college. Nate has been excitedly gearing up for his, having his heart set on a Ford Ranger, but having to replace the car now would change the whole scenario.

Later that afternoon a very worried Jordan sat down next to me. "What are we going to do, Mom?"

I looked in his eyes and saw the torment there. I knew he felt tremendous guilt that the incident had happened while he was driving. Even though Mike had called the city to report the railroad track (the track itself had sunk, creating a six or seven inch drop on either side onto the track), Jordan was still plagued with an overwhelming sense of responsibility.

"We'll just pray, son." Even to my ears my response sounded a bit hollow.

But it was all I knew to say or do.

He nodded, but stayed silent. I wasn't sure I'd convinced him. I wasn't so sure I had convinced myself.

Two days later both boys and I were in the Suburban, having just had lunch out together, when my cell phone rings. It's Mike.

"Well, it's not bad." My, what a difference forty-eight hours can make. He sounded...was it possible...almost...encouraged?

"How not bad?" I countered with careful anticipation.

"Not bad at all."

As he proceeded to tell me the specifics of the car issues, I caught Jordan's eyes in the rearview mirror. I could tell he was monitoring my every word and expression. I can barely believe Mike's words and I'm searching for the best way to tell Jordan so that he'd believe them too.

"One-hundred and ten dollars, Jordan."

"No way." His eyes never left mine. His voice was a delightfully grand mixture of hope and disbelief.

"Yep." I nodded and grinned.

"How's that possible?" Nate, ever my voice of reason, piped up.

I shrug and try to think of something bright and wise to say.

"It had to be God." (So much for bright and wise...)

"Mom," Jordan leaned forward, his voice low and earnest, and remarkably close to excited. "I...really...prayed. Hard."

I tried to swallow past the sudden lump in my throat and nodded. I have no doubt he did. And I feel certain that his prayers touched heaven and God - in a way that only He can - heard a teen's prayers and saw his honest, hurting heart...and he provided a miracle so that Jordan could witness the power of answered prayers.

I think Jordan and I both learned something from this experience.

I learned from my son to go slow over railroad tracks that you're not familiar with.

And Jordan learned that a simple prayer can make even the impossible...possible.

If he can hang onto this memory and the impact it has had on his life he can one day say to his own son or daughter, "Well, I guess we'll just have to pray."

It'll be all he thinks or knows to do.

And the lesson will go on...

Comments

[Melissa]

Wow, you are a great writer! The detail you include on a simple blog is so impressive. After reading this I felt as though I were there to witness the exchange in the car myself! More impressive than that, you are a great mom. I hope I can one day be half the mom to my kids that you are to yours. :)

I love you

[boomama]

That is a wonderful post - and I love your boys' hearts. So beautifully written - I feel like I just had my devotion.

Okay - and now I see your books in the sidebar, and I'm a little embarrassed. Because no wonder your post is so beautifully written - you're a WRITER! And a real one! (unlike me, who's just a fake one)

:-)

[Tess]

That is really something. I know when The Rev and I were in bible college, he had to have something done to his car, and he only had $60, and expected to have to pay at least $120. We pulled up at the service station, and he just looked at me and said, "Well, I'm just going to believe God for a blessing today, this is all I have to pay with," and the bill was just under $50.