A Father’s Day

19 May

Mother’s Day was a wonderful day. It was a day of no schedules. It was a day spent with all of my kids. My daughter started the day, with a fabulous breakfast of homemade waffles and a Monte Cristo Frittata (thank you Rachel Ray) I simply enjoyed being with the kids all day.  I felt incredibly blessed.

Today, I received a phone call from an old friend. He is the father of 4 boys. He adopted the 2 oldest and the youngest 2 are his biologically. There is no mother involved for any of the boys.  But he has enough heart for a mom and dad and fiercely loves all of his children.

He was operating his skidster on his property. He had placed the older boys in charge of keeping an eye on the younger boys and keeping them in the house. He checked before backing the 7000 lbs of machinery.  But, we all know how fast a 3 year old can dart. Before he knew it, he had driven over his youngest child.  He jumped out of the cab and raced to his son. His head was dented in and blood was coming out of his ear. The boy’s eyes rolled back and he stopped breathing.

He began screaming for his phone gathered his child, begging him to breath and began the 20 minute drive into town and to the hospital. He made it in 5 minutes that day, passing a state patrol whom waved him on, having heard the situation by 911 operators.  During the drive, while he continued to beg his son to live, he heard him take a gasp and start breathing again and screaming in pain.

His son was transported by helicopter to Denver Children’s Hospital.  A team of neurosurgeons awaited the boy.  His skull was fractured in 3 spots. The artery providing blood flow to the brain was compromised. The sac holding fluid surrounding the brain was leaking. The father arrived soon and was told the prognosis was grim and what surgeries in what order they would perform.

The father had called his neighbors to get help for his other kids. They not only helped but put out the word within the small community. Prayers went out and requests for prayers went out across the nation.  The boy woke up and held on to his father.  He felt blessed that his boy wasn’t afraid of him.  He begged for forgiveness and told his son how sorry he was.  He thanked God for allowing him the opportunity to tell his son how sorry he was.

The artery that was providing blood to his brain, opened up.  The blood clot that had formed in his lung disappeared.  Each surgery that was to be performed continued to be cancelled.  The sack stopped leaking fluid around his brain. While his skull is fractured, you can no longer visibly see the injury.

The boy is home with his brothers, with his father. My friend is thankful for his miracle. He is thankful for the hand of God reaching down to his son. While he always took his sons to church, he personally had always had a jiggle of doubt resting in his soul.  If you knew his life’s story, you would understand the doubt. He always seemed to have a rain cloud hovering about his head. His childhood was anything but storybook.  But he is nothing but thankful for this miracle. He believes in the power of prayer and is thankful so many believed and prayed for his child.


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