Answered Prayer

June 4th, 2018

I was working in the yard most of the day. Evening was fast approaching– I began to watch the sky, I could tell the sunset was going to be stunning. There were lots of pretty pillowy clouds adorning the heavens! 

Excited, I grabbed my camera and headed out to my favorite spot down CR 361.

Upon arrival the beautiful pillowy clouds had formed into one giant wall– now blocking my stunning sunset. I was a bit disheartened and felt cheated. 

I looked around and noticed the most beautiful colors illuminating the sky toward the East. It was actually a bit deceiving– if you didn’t know your directions you’d swear you were looking to the West. I snapped a few pictures of that East sky and soon felt content. I laid my camera in the passenger seat and drove down the road… I was done for the day. 

As usual I intended to follow the curve to the left and follow the road out, but just before the curve something caught my eye. There, in the middle of the road stood a fairly good sized bird. It looked like a roadrunner or possibly a quail. I got very excited. I eased on ahead a few hundred feet passing my normal turning point. 

I saw the bird hop, not fly, from the road into some tall grass. Something about the way it manuvered led me to believe it had to be one of the two birds. Knowing a bit about their behavior I stopped just short of where I saw it hop. I noticed a fence post and assumed it would perch there at some point. I parked and grabbed my camera. I wasn’t in any hurry, although I was steadily losing light. I sat and waited for the bird to make its next move. 

As I sat watching and waiting I felt as though I was being watched. I looked to my left and there was a lady in a white SUV parked beside me. I rolled my window down. 

“Are you okay?’ The kind lady asked. 

“Yes, ma’am. I just noticed a bird in the road and I was waiting for it to hop up on the fence post.” Raising my camera for her to see, as I explained. 

“Okay. Just wanted to make sure you were alright.” 

Often times while out photographing our beautiful surroundings I encounter the nicest folks. Possibly they are a bit suspicious, but mostly they are genuinely concerned when someone is sitting on the side of the road. I thanked her for checking on me. 

As the kind lady drove away I concluded that my subject had most likely fled. I sat for just a moment longer then decided to head home. 

As I was pulling away I looked up and saw the sun pop out from behind the giant wall. Excited, I continued on the road I was on and followed that light in the sky.

I had always thought this little stretch of road led to someone’s driveway, but it did not. It came to a T. I made a mental note. I would surely be exploring this new found road in the future. 

I came to a quick stop and then turned right so I would be parallel with the sky. The giant wall was still present but there was a good amount of light shining just at the end of it. Although it was very brief I was quite giddy to have captured it. 

As I continued along the road I began to wonder, “Where in the world am I?”

I noticed a stop sign ahead. As I came upon it I sat there feeling very lost. I had no idea where I was. 

My normal route led me to Sulfur Springs road– completely in the opposite direction. 

I finally noticed it was a highway in front of me. Many cars were passing by. For some reason I began to count the lanes– I counted 5. Two eastbound and two westbound and one turning lane. Still unfamiliar. 

I glanced down at my navigation and was shocked. It revealed I was at Highway 87! 

I looked around at everything that surrounded me and thought, “Okay. I’m at 87 but how did I get here?” I looked closer at the navigation. I was now both shocked and confused. It took several more minutes for it to fully hit me. 

My exact location was CR 357 and Highway 87. I was on the opposite side of the very intersection where my Alex drew his last earthly breath. 

Once I was able to process my location, my heart began to ache. I did not fall to pieces as I expected. I did not cry. My heart ached, yes, but I was insanely peaceful.

I fully expected a rush of memories from that fateful day to take me by storm. I mean, here I am 100 yards on the other side of the Highway where Hayden and I were informed Alex had not survived the accident– and not even a tear? “What is wrong with me?”

I put my blinker on and turned right onto the highway. I drove slow– anticipating at any moment I would be a complete mess.

Nothing. 

As I came to my next turn I even asked myself. “Are you not going to cry?” 

I felt as though my mind and spirit were having this weird conversation and I was a mere bystander. 

The conversation between mind and spirit continued as I made my way home. In all the back and forth, what I ultimately heard was this, “The pain is still with you. It is forever a part of you– it’s just laced in peace.”

I focused on that, “Laced in peace” all evening. I even tried to rearrange the wording. I have often used the phrase “Layered in love,” (I borrowed that from something I read many years ago. I loved it so much, I adopted it.)

In my mind I thought, “Layered in peace.” But my spirit was persistent and each time my thoughts directed away from what I heard, I was redirected back to “Laced in peace.” I finally conceded. 

The following morning or maybe the next, I cannot remember at the moment, but I met my friend Michelle for breakfast. I shared my story with her. Her own sweet son, Cameron, Promoted just 4 years ago.

After I finished telling her all that had happened, she asked with great concern, “Why did God do that to you? Why would He put you there?”

“I don’t know.” I paused. “I don’t know.” And then… clarity. “No. I DO know. He answered my prayer. I have been praying all these years. God, get me on the other side of this grief. He answered my prayer. I’m on the other side now.” 

A few days later I met my friend, Melissa. Her sweet Kyley Promoted 10 months after Alex. Melissa was sitting in my vehicle talking on the phone with her husband. I glanced over and noticed she was wearing a pretty lacy cardigan. I noticed the design of the pattern and thought “how beautiful”. I also noticed the freckles on her arm. 

Noticing her laced cardigan began to form a visual in my head. I thought about the intersection and the words I had received. Although I still could not fully comprehend the extent of all that had happened, I was rather stuck by the fact that I could see her freckles through the lace. I began to envision God holding a giant curtain of lace between where I sat at the intersection on June 4, 2017 and where we had sat on the other side of the intersection on February 28, 2008, the night of Alex’s accident. 

When I got home I googled the definition of “laced.” This is the definition: entwine, intertwine, entangled, interweave. 

I then googled “peace.” This is the definition: freedom from disturbance; quiet and tranquility. 

God had answered my prayer. It took 9.4 years but He answered. I am on the other side of my grief. The pain is still with me, always it is with me, but God in His infinite grace has laced my pain in peace. It is still there, the lace conceals it beautifully but does not hide it. 

It has only been through sharing this encounter with those who’s own children have been heavenly Promoted, that I have been able to grasp the depths of what God has been doing. 

He used Michelle to reveal that my prayer had been answered. She asked the question that needed to be asked. 

He used Melissa’s lacy cardigan to offer a visual. 

And just days ago, I shared this story with my friend Lori. Her sweet son Ryan, also Promoted. We were at dinner just 2 days before his 5 year anniversary. 

I’m not sure why I mentioned the date of my encounter to Lori, but I did, and obviously I mentioned it twice. After I finished sharing, Lori explained that this story was for her. 

“June 4th would have been Ryan’s 21st birthday!” She shared. “This story is for me. It’s my story. I have needed this.” 

God is so wonderfully mysterious and He may not even be through with this story. Actually, I pray He is not. 

If you are going through a trial, ask God what He wants to do with you and through you. Remember He will get you through whatever you’re going through. Trust Who He Is. 

It has been 10 heavenly years for my Alex. We miss him immensely. We long to hold him again. He is still very much a part of us and that will never change. Until the day that I reach eternity’s shore, I’m going to trust God to be who He says He is. He says He is good. When eyes are opened we see His ways are good. I will trust Him to be with us always. I will trust Him, always, to give us direction and resolve.