10 Things of Thankful: I Am Not Where I Was

By Mary Hill

I keep coming back to a central theme every week of how blessed I am. It is in part because of this hop that our dear friend Lizzy at Considerings began just one year ago.  I have not participated every week, but the weeks that I do participate I come away feeling better and more thankful, guaranteed.

The second part (first, really) of why I feel so blessed has to do with my relationship with Jesus. I walk and talk with Him daily and He loves me.  I am so saved, and I have such peace.

I can take you back three years when peace was not there; when I briefly let circumstances break me. In my defense, though, I think those circumstance could break anyone. 

This weekend, we spent the day with our grandson who was abused by his father, shaken when he was only four months old. The evil deed was caused by my step daughter’s husband’s dependence on drugs and selfishness. He shook him so hard that his brain had blood on it, and we were scared he would never see, walk, run or talk. 

That Sunday night three years ago, we watched a chopper take off with our little grandson taking him to the hospital. The goal to stabilize him, save his life. We didn’t know as we watched the paramedic run from the chopper to meet the ER nurse, what had happened or what was wrong with him. We were terrified that he was going to die. 

We held each other and watched his older sister run across the hospital lawn playing, unaware of the tragedy unfolding in our lives. We learned the next day that J. was the victim of terrible child abuse. We suspected who was responsible, but we left it up to law enforcement to investigate.

By the end of the week, both our grandchildren were taken away from us and put into protective custody. Our little grandchildren gone, we were heart broken. Our 18-month-year old girl screamed as the foster parent picked her up for her “Papa.” We were devastated. 

The father confessed and went to jail. He later jumped from stairs at the jail, landing 25 feet on to hard concrete. He is paralyzed from the neck down. We don’t know where he is though because his family was able to take him to North Carolina to another treatment facility because they claimed the doctors and nurses at our local hospital were not caring for him properly. There has not been a trial yet; he is only charged with child abuse.

Fast forward another year and four months.  Our preacher son’s wife was pregnant. She delivered her son in November 2012, but they spent the next six months in hospitals because for some reason the baby failed to thrive. At four months, he weighed less than eight pounds.  

Our faith tested again as we faced the potential loss of another grandson. I can’t tell you the depression, the fear, and why Gods that went on in my family. But God must have bigger plans for these little boys because today both are thriving.

I share this with you because these are indeed our miracle babies. God saved them because of answered prayers. 

A friend came to me a few weeks ago. Her adopted daughter had strayed and she had no idea where she was. My dear friend is almost 80 and she raised this young woman into adulthood. She bought her a car, and the daughter took off and did not return for six weeks. She took her granddaughter with her who was age nine. My friend was concerned she had returned to a life of drugs. I promised to pray for her. My report: the young woman visited her adopted mom clean, sober, and has a job.

I asked her to pray for my own prodigal family member who has now also gone to wind. We have no idea where or what this family member is doing. We fear drugs and other issues, but we continue to pray.

When life looks its darkest, when you face demons, when you face destruction and fear, God will be there. Just call on Him.  He is my 10 Things of Thankful tonight. He is my Savior, my life, my Provider, my help, my healing, my blessing, my future, my everything. He can be yours too if you just invite Him in.

Three years later, I spent this weekend looking at helicopters not watching paramedics load my grandson into a life chopper to take him to a bigger hospital’s Intensive Care Unit. I heard him laugh, watched him run around, and watched him look at the planes and choppers and heard him speak when we was happy to see us. “I love MeMe’s van. MeMe’s van is a nice van.”

Contributing to these hops: