Letting Go

When I was speaking with my daughter, Lulu, by phone the other day she reminded me of something that happened several years ago when she was engaged to Dan. It is not a pleasant anniversary but one that serves as a reminder of a valuable lesson God taught me.

On that Saturday in February, Lulu and one of her bridesmaids were going to a bridal show downtown. Pastor Dad and I had gone to church to meet with others who were going out to invite people to attend church.

Most everyone else had just left to make their visits when the church phone rang. I answered it. What I heard chilled my heart. Lulu and her friend had been in a wreck about 30 minutes earlier. Lulu was the passenger in the car driven by her friend. Their car had been hit head-on by a speeding passenger truck when its young driver had crossed the center line while passing cars on a curve. The policeman could not tell me anything about Lulu's condition. All he knew was that she was still alive when the ambulance left the scene.

Pastor Dad and I practically flew to that hospital but even as fast as we were going I don't ever remember a drive taking so long. When we arrived they would not give us any information because she was over the age of 18. We told them that if she was dead we were the next of kin to be notified so they better find someone to talk to us quickly. Pastor Dad also had his hospital clergy badge that allows him access to church members but he didn't want to use it before knowing what he would find. It is one thing to be a pastor making a consolation call and quite another to need one yourself.

After awhile, a doctor came out to talk to us. He said they were checking her for internal and head injuries and that she had some nasty cuts on her legs and feet that were going to need to be repaired. We were to wait for further updates and to stand ready to sign surgical release forms.

Her friend's parents were in the waiting room with us. Every so often the nurses would tell them that they could go back to be with their daughter because she was asking for them. No one came for us. When we asked if Lulu knew we were there they just shrugged in a noncommittal way. Our patience wore thin that afternoon while we waited to see our daughter.

After several more hours, (yes, hours) a nurse told us that Lulu had no internal bleeding and that all of her injuries were the type that would be fixed through stitches and plastic surgery. We finally were able to go back to see her about 4 hours after the wreck.

Of the three young people in the wreck she was the one with the least serious injuries but hers were serious enough. As it turned out, she was able to go home with us that night. She spent the next weeks using crutches and wheelchairs. We were so thankful for God's mercies.

God taught me a tremendous lesson that day. I had been fretting about Lulu's upcoming marriage. At that time Dan was completing USAF tech school and thought he might be receiving orders to go to South Korea. That meant Lulu would be moving halfway across the world. How would she cope? How would we cope? I could hardly bear the thought. Such a distance would mean that we would probably only see her every couple of years or so. What if she needed us? Besides the fact that I would miss her terribly I was concerned for her safety.

That day God spoke to my heart and said, "Don't you think you can completely turn her over to me now? There isn't anywhere in this world where she can go that I won't be there protecting her. You, on the other hand, couldn't even keep her safe less than ten miles from home. Trust Me."

Whenever I start feeling fretful I remember this wreck and what a poor protector I am. Then I turn my children back over to the One who holds them safely in His hands.