It was a June morning, full of promise. We were sure his trach tube was going to be removed. Alas, it wasn’t to be. Our hearts were full of sorrow, broken and disappointed. We had finished with our tears, Josh had awoken enough from the sedation to drink some Gatorade, his pain medicine was working and now we were driving home.
That’s when we saw her…
At first I thought “she” was a “he”. A stocky, strong person wearing a button up shirt and tan colored pans, a black backpack sat at her feet. A tall spiky, sandy colored Mohawk dominated her head. Struggling with the police, she was desperately trying to jump off of the 405 bridge!
As we whisked by in our car, I looked in my rearview mirror and saw she was finally subdued. Oh, how my heart broke for her. Thankfully her precious life was saved. What had driven her to that point? What was her story? In that moment, Josh and I began to pray out loud for her and her brokenness. There is wholeness and healing to be had through the Creator of the Universe.
I often think of her when I remember that June morning full of a promise that wasn’t to be. And I thank God; she was stopped from taking her life. I continue to pray for our miracle and I thank God for the miracle of the life…
… of the jumper.
1 comment:
God has a wonderfully gentle way of helping us keep our eyes off ourselves, doesn't He? Blessings to you for having a tender heart toward others, even in the midst of your own grief.
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