It’s a boys life!

Telling Aidan he could go for a short bike ride before retiring in for the night, minutes later 7:46 p.m. my phone rings, “mom, there is blood everywhere. I might be dying. Come quick. Mom, I don’t want to die, but I think I am!” Immediately my body and mind go into overdrive, I start reassuring him and tell him to stay on the phone until I can get to him. Travis always calm, me frantic on the inside, we jump into the truck; we locate Aidan three blocks up from the house in the parking lot of the “Progressive Christianity” church. Assessing the situation, first noticed is blood streaming from a wound on the back of his head; his black D.A.R.E t-shirt is soaked in it. His bike wheel hit something, it happened so fast it is hard for him to describe exactly what happened next; he flipped over the front of his bike, the force and speed caused his bike to flip over him as well, landing on him. He is not sure if his head hit the concrete or if it was a blow from the force and weight of the bike. As Travis throws the bike in the bed of the truck I get Aidan in the backseat, rip his shirt over his head, and apply the blood-soaked shirt with pressure to the wound. “Jesus, stop the bleeding.” Aidan later accounts on the way home from the ER “Mom, when you prayed the bleeding instantly stopped. What do people do without Jesus?” he states. At St. Luke ER we had a 4 1/4 hour visit from start to finish. The waiting room was a mass of people. Aidan was a trooper when he learned the wound would have to be stapled shut. In the end he gets one staple. On the drive home, I can tell he feels a mighty mite proud to have a new war story. Ha, it’s a boy thing! Scars and wounds are awesome! We pull into our driveway close to midnight, Aidan goes right to bed, asleep before his head hits the soften of the feather filled pillow, As my head hits my own pillow, due to the events of the night, I know sleep will elude me; I lay there recounting the events of the day. unfolding each matter, at first glance, what seems insignificant actions, except I was unaware of how this day would transpire. God has a way of opening our eyes. Standing at the altar prior that morning, Oh how my heart was moved when I witnessed Pastor. Justin Gleason lay his hand over my son and pray the blessing of the Almighty. I don’t know what was said, but I know God was in it. Tonight, Aidan recognized, again, a tangible God. This young generation has Kingdom providence pulsing through their veins. There are no small coincidences in His kingdom. Most assuredly, we have a Protector who goes before us. Wherever Aidan ventures, the promise of Isaiah 41:10 rests upon him. Good and mercy, a continual shadow over him. I recognize, first and foremost, Aidan belongs to God and I get the magnificent privilege and honor of being named his mom. I recount this story because I never want Aidan to forget, Jesus is powerful, Jesus has definite plans for him, there is always a greater good, and Aidan is important to the Great I AM.