BEDTIME BLESSINGS

Early this morning I was made sharply aware of a blessing I'd overlooked. We were awakened at 4:15 AM by the ringing of the phone which, at that hour, is seldom a harbinger of good news. It was our friend, Mike, on his way to work the early shift, calling to tell us that the sporting goods store, The Tackle Box where Ramsey is employed, had been smashed into with a car. Mike had already called the Sheriff's Department but didn't know how to get ahold of Karen, the owner, who was out of town at a buying show. Mark and Ramsey hurried to the store where they were able to give the responding officers information regarding the owner and whether it looked like anything was stolen (nothing was). There were 50 feet of skid marks and a lot of damage to the front of the building. Upon seeing a young girl still on the scene in her smashed-up car, Ramsey felt pretty sure the actual culprit was her boyfriend. At first, the girl tried to cover for him but, after some pressure from the police, she took them to where he boyfriend was and he confessed and was apprehended. Ramsey had a phone number to reach Karen; Mark called to tell her what had happened, that he and Ramsey were going to do what was needed to clean up the mess, board up the windows and get the store in working order.

At home the other kids and I prayed for Karen, asking that God would comfort her and protect her as she travels back home. We are thankful that it was not a robbery situation in which, if she had been home, she might possibly have been harmed.

It was as we prayed for the young people involved in the incident that I was made keenly aware of the overlooked blessing in our life. While this boy and girl were out doing whatever they were doing that led them to driving a car into the front of the store, my boys and girls were piled on our queen-size bed which their mother and father had retired to. They do this quite often; coming in to talk, laugh, lay by us and wrestle each other. Mark finds this rather annoying at times but, as I thought about my 18 year old son stretched across the end of our bed with his head pillowed on my hip (and his smelly socks in his 10 year old brother's face - one source of the wrestling), my 14 year old daughter curled up between her brothers and her 11 year old sister wedged between Mark and me, I wondered how many parents were blessed to be crammed into a not-big-enough bed with all their children (not just the little ones) wanting to share this time at the end of the day. When Mark can't take the ruckus and racket anymore we pray with them, send them off to their own beds and stretch out our cramped legs into the warm spots left from where they had lain. Something, that to some might seem strange or insignificant, to me is a gift of God's grace -- when darkness settles down over the day and the question is asked, "Parents, do you know where your children are?" I can answer, "Yes, I do -- they're on my bed!"