There have been countless desperation prayers I have made over the past 20 + years. From preemie hospitalizations, to RSV scares, to trips to a specialist, to sanity (mine), to you name it. But driving in the car with my four children had me calling on the Higher Power the most. You see, driving to town involved containing three very rambunctious, atomic level energetic, “I-Will-Get-Bored-And-Pull-My-Brother’s-Car seat-Over” males. I drove a suburban which allowed two car seats on each row with a seat in between. We even put the most grabby one next to our daughter who was less reactive. I had been having a particularly difficult week driving them (sneakers flying, etc.) and was just exiting our driveway to pull onto the road when one grabbed the other brother’s hair (idk how) and one began screaming. It had only been two minutes in the car. I was beginning to feel my chest tighten and noticed I was shallow breathing. I pulled my car off the road and just started praying, “Dear Jesus, PLEASE help me get these children safely to school!” When I looked up into my rear view mirror, my three year old son turned to the row of siblings behind him and said, “Mom’s talking to Jesus again!” Yep, I was. And would be for a very long time.
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Published by Fourundertwo
I am a novice writer who probably thinks too much. I love understanding and allowing grace to give me more patience with others and myself. I also LOVE a good laugh. View all posts by Fourundertwo