If he was looking for signs...

One week ago today the family was in pre-carpool-hurry-mode as Zach gave a powerful devotional about the theme for seminary: "Doubt not, fear not." He closed by telling his sleepy sibs that reading scriptures was really cool, and that this "doubt not, fear not" idea could apply to everything in life. He grabbed Dad's racing bike, secured his shoes into the stirrups, and called over his shoulder, "Doubt not, fear not!" -- like some "Hurrah for Israel" battle cry.

30 minutes later as I looked with disdain at the last two large bowls of peaches waiting to be bottled, the phone rang. It was the Vice Principal at Maeser. He told me that Zach was in his office after being hit by a car while riding to school. My heart began racing. Mr. Marshall informed me it had been a hit and run, and that Zach had some bruises and road rash, but that he was alright. He wondered if I'd give the school permission to get the police involved. Through my tears I asked if I should come to bring Zach home. I was told he wanted to stay.

I called Star and he answered (2nd miracle) . He told me he'd leave for Maeser immediately. By the time I reached my parents and they arrived to cover Max (he was still asleep and stayed asleep until I came back an hour later (3rd miracle)) the police were leaving. Star met me in the parking lot, took one look at my puffy eyes and wild hair and said with a smile, "You are an emotional Mama." My feisty-mother-bear-ness retorted, "Yes! I AM! I need to see him." Just then Zach came out the door wearing his PE clothes. He saw me and came over saying in a really pleasant way, "Mom, hey-- thanks for coming." I hugged him to me hard and asked if I could take him home. He kindly refused --explaining that they were on their way to an ultimate Frisbee game...

The adrenaline wore off after a couple of hours. He called and needed some ibuprofen. When he hobbled out to the car, I convinced him to come home and let me get some neo-sporin on his scrapes and cuts (all on the outside of his hands and arms). We talked while driving, and as the details of the accident unraveled I marveled again that he'd not been more hurt. He said he'd been going full speed and noticed a car was pulling out from a business driveway on State street. In a matter of nano-seconds he thought "pull your feet out of the stirrups", and then his mind began going through the steps of a karate trick he'd just perfected Tues. night; his bike hit the car, he smoothly flew across the hood, then tucked and rolled --his head never touching the ground. He lay there dazed, then realized the car had continued driving, and decided he'd better get up --he didn't want to be late for school.

It was a day full of mixed emotions, and it took it's toll physically, but I kept recalling him say with confident conviction, "Doubt not, fear not." If any of us were looking for some sort of sign that God knows who we are and that we can be given the companionship of the Spirit -- this could count I think.

I cannot verbalize my gratitude.