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Yesterday morning, I discovered that I can still move with catlike agility through a dark room (littered with toys) to get to the phone in what feels like the middle of the night because your kid is leaving this message: “I’m ok…but my car, not so much…yeah, it’s totalled…”. It was only 6:15 a.m., not the middle of the night, but I wasn’t going back to sleep! We only got to talk for a few minutes because he had to go, but after we hung up, I curled up on the couch under a blanket, with my Bible. I was too shaken to even open it. I was very aware that this phone call, this rude awakening, could have been “the call” dreaded by all parents.

When I was 16, my uncle died in a car accident. My Mom took “the call”. It was the only time I have ever seen her really lose it and at the time I was frightened by the power of her raw emotions.

When I was 23, on my first Valentine’s Day as a married lady, I got a “call” – I was cooking a romantic dinner and a friend called to tell me that my best friend’s car had slipped on ice and gone over the overpass. My best friend’s parents had died in a car accident only 8 months before. I remained in control and supported my friend through that call, but when I hung up and called Hubby, I lost the ability to speak. The power of raw emotion.

When I am upset, I clean; I have to keep busy. If I had stayed home yesterday instead of running errands (in the wind and rain), my house would be immaculate by now. When I was at home, I carried the phone around with me in case Big Guy called. I caught myself on the verge of tears all day, the “what ifs” playing out in the back of my mind. How easily we go about our day, oblivious to just how quickly a piece of our heart can be torn apart, leaving a scar that never really fades. It is a rude awakening. We are not made to remain in this world, but how we cling to it. God could have taken Big Guy home yesterday… While I trust that God would help me to survive such a great loss, every part of me claws and screams against that very idea, even though Big Guy does not belong to me. The power of raw emotion.

The car is replaceable – Big Guy is not! Big Guy’s injuries are minor considering the force of the impact. He was blessed with many calls from people he’s only known a short time – a testament to his character. It will be a challenge for him to find a replacement car, and the cost (and amount of paperwork) is yet to be determined. But this morning, I am just thankful! My family is intact, my heart is whole…and my house is…still a mess!