I got a phone call from Moma on Saturday afternoon asking me to call her back because she had some bad news. Given the recent trip home to see Granny, I figured she was calling to tell me that Granny was not doing well or worse...
That was not the case. She called to tell me that my 16-year-old nephew, P, had been in an accident. I actually didn't speak to Moma when I called but Daddy instead. As he told me that P had been taken to Amarillo via Life Flight and that he wasn't responding to pain stimuli, his voice cracked. At that moment I thought I was losing my nephew or worse, had essentially already lost him.
My sister C blogged about it much more eloquently than I could have. (first post, second post, third post) I tried to post about it, but was I was a little afraid to and the words just wouldn't come. P is healing now. I think he's going to have quite a road in front of him, but given that he's 16 and healthy, maybe it won't be too bumpy.
All I can say now is, Thank you, God. Today is the National Day of Prayer and I know that today, I pray prayers of thanksgiving.