A Christmas Gift

Sometimes, as young adults, we put our parents through some difficult crap. It's not until we're near middle aged (and I'm not there yet, right? RIGHT?) and have teenagers and young adults of our own that we truly understand the anguish we caused our parents, mostly our mothers. Personally, I owe my mom a lot of apologies from about 1983-1994. And maybe a few from 2001-2003, because even though I was an adult those latter years, I know my mom still worried about me. I know she went to bed some nights praying that I'd be o.k.

I had only one real wish this Christmas...To know that ALL of my kids were safe, warm, had food and a place to sleep. For reasons I can't go into here, I don't always know that is the case for all of my kids. With the exception of Angela, they're all adults now. Doing their own thing, and trying to find their own way in this world.

Last night, after talking with good friend, I went to bed in tears because of MONTHS of worry. Not a few days, not a couple of weeks, but months. I prayed my Christmas Wish.

My house phone rang at 6:40 this morning. I stumbled to the phone, incoherent, but didn't make it before whoever it was hung up. The caller ID came up as a private number.

A couple hours later I got into the car to find I'd left my cell phone in there last night. There was one missed call...just one minute later than the house phone call...again a private number so it was the same person. That still, small voice told me who it was, even though I had no idea if it was true or not. And in reality it doesn't matter if I was right or not...in my spirit...I knew that today I would hear something.

About 3:00 this afternoon my prayers were answered in an unusual way. God gave me my Christmas gift.