In Her Own Words, The Rest of the Story..Amy Nix

"The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases. His mercies never come to an end. They are new every morning. Great is thy faithfulness," Lamentations 3:22-24. It was early Saturday morning, and my son, Reid, had to get an early start. Swim team for the high school had contributed to Reid's "turning over a whole new leaf", so to speak. Since when did my 16 year old want to get up at 6 am on a Saturday? It didn't matter to me. I was glad to see his new-found fervor for school and its activities. He seemed to be excelling at so much lately. I was so proud of him and his determination.

Off into the darkness we traveled, first stopping for a quick breakfast, then off to school to meet the bus for the ride to a nearby town where he was to practice in their large pool. I felt kind of sorry for him. It was 40 degrees outside, and he had on a wet swim suit under his sweat pants. I had not seen to it that it had been dried from the previous evening's practice. Sometimes I felt like my mothering was lacking. I was so involved in work and the demands of home, things were often slipping around the house and with the kids. Well, it was Saturday, anyway, and I felt optimistic about the day. Saturday was my favorite day of the week--no surprise there.

As I watched Reid join all of his friends, clad in sweatshirts with boggans on their heads, I just grinned. I began to call out to God, thanking him for my precious son. He was our only boy, the first of three children. They are all truly the most precious gifts that we could have ever been given...the "air in my lungs," I have often thought. I've heard it said that mothers have a special bond with their sons. Sounds pretty corny, really, but I could identify. Although Reid is growing up and he thinks that I am way out of touch with his world, I still often think of him as that firecracker of a toddler, hair bouncing freely around his face and those two white chiclet teeth, just a little bit too big for his mouth. He was my little pal.

I always remember my Dad praying for us. He always told me that every day he claimed the 91st Psalm, one of protection, over each one of us, and that he would plead the blood of Jesus over us and our lives. It had become a common practice for me over my own children, but this morning, I really called out to God more earnestly than I had in a long time. I wept and prayed a prayer of thanksgiving, but couldn't ignore a nagging fear of loss. A fear of loss... such a heavy burden. Thank you, God, for my son, my daughters, my husband. But why such a fear of loss? I began to pray for divine protection, wisdom, and guidance in Reid's life, feeling most threatened for him, sixteen years old...driving a car, experiencing so many new things.

I rebuked the devourer, Satan. Finally, giving it all to God, I told Him that I trusted Him. I cannot live in fear. I know that "God has not given us the spirit of fear, but of power, love, and a sound mind." I know of so many who had suffered loss, and still somehow gave God the glory. My prayer was for God to keep Reid, but to help me trust him no matter what. I continued my prayer for my daughters and my husband, still holding Reid in the back of my mind. I was driving into the driveway now, making a long mental list of things to do that day. We would pick Reid up at 11.

The day didn't go as planned, of course, and I was becoming frustrated when we still had not gotten our errands done by noon. Besides, I was getting a headache, quickly growing out of the mood to shop. Giving in to my husband, I got up and we headed to town. I wanted to buy some mums and pumpkins for a fall arrangement, and a new picture to hang over Reid's bed in his newly-painted room. Finally at Hobby Lobby, we found the perfect picture. It reminded us of Reid, a silhouette of a couple of surfers waiting for the ultimate wave. His sister, Corrin, confirmed that we should get it after she sent a snapshot of the picture to Reid via her phone, getting his approval. We would soon be on our way home.

It wasn't half an hour later we were standing in line at the checkout when Shannon's phone rang. My eyes grew large when I heard him asking questions about an accident and agreeing to meeting at a nearby emergency room. "Reid has had an accident on the
Polaris and has a gash on his head," was his terse response to my alarmed expression. We had taken him to a friend's house earlier on the way to town, and certainly, they couldn't resist riding the ATV, as they had done so many times before. Ok, I kept my cool, thinking that perhaps it was an over-exaggeration. I wasn't one to over react, especially with all I had seen in my almost 18 years as a nurse. "He probably won't really even need a stitch," I thought, "....probably just Katie's parents wanting to be really careful...I'm not about to sit in an
ER all afternoon on my coveted Saturday."

When we met Reid and Katie's Dad, I got a sick feeling. Reid was visibly shaken, with blood on his shirt, neck and arms, dirt and grass in his hair, and blood coming from his nose. He was pensive and stiff, and I could tell he was hurting. I immediately changed plans and told Shannon that I wanted him to come to the ER with me instead of staying home with the girls, and we set off to the ER at my work. Reid reached from the backseat to grab my hand in the front. His hand felt cold, and he looked scared. Oh, my baby, my heart was breaking for him. At that moment I remembered how I had fervently prayed that morning.

"Oh, my Lord," I said to myself. God had made himself real to me. God had spared Reid. As it turned out, the Polaris had gone off the road when they made a curve, flipping and throwing Reid out into the woods. He could have been killed....so many variables, and any change of circumstance could have taken him from me. I knew that God had protected him divinely.

Later in the ER, Reid shared his feelings about the accident. It was sobering, and he knew that God had indeed had His hand upon him. He confided that it made him re-examine his life and his spirituality. It was suddenly clear to me... God had impressed upon me to trust Him. He is sovereign, and although there are times that He allows things to happen that we may not understand, it is ultimately for His glory. Had Reid not had this life-threatening experience, he may have gone his own way, ignoring the prodding of the Holy Spirit upon his life. It also reminded me of the importance of listening to the Holy Spirit. When we are burdened for others it is imperative that we yield in a spirit of intercession.

About 5 hours, a CT scan, and several Xrays later, we were headed home. I asked Reid if he could go back and change anything about the day, would he reconsider going to his friend's house. "Mom, I wouldn't change a thing," he said. "Everything that happens to us makes us who we are and forms our character." I also asked him if he thought he could go to church the next morning, despite the 14 staples in his head and the aches and pains that went along with the rest of his injuries. After all, he had some praying to do. "Mom," he said, giving me a long look, "It's not between me and church...it's between me and God." Wow, that wisdom I prayed for him to have is sure kicking in faster than I thought!

An ordinary-looking quick dash through the drive-through at Steak and Shake marked the end of an exraordinary day that had started out so differently. I am
left with a feeling of immense gratefulness and a new appreciation for God's mercies. "They are new every morning...great is thy faithfulness, Oh Lord."