Some things are hard to talk about. This one sure is. But I feel like it’s a story that needs to be told. Even though the memory stings like salt in a wound. Recording it is the best way to keep it around, right?
I don’t know how long it had been after my nephew Shane died… Nathan hadn’t been the same for days and days. He was a year and a half older than Shane, but they’d been best friends forEVER. For any “normal” kid at the age of 10, it would have been hard. For an autistic, self-harming kid, it was completely overwhelming.
I had spent days praying for Nathan’s peace, for some shadow of his normal self to come back. He’s stopped talking, playing, wanting to go outside or to the park. It was heartbreaking to watch him go through, as a Mom who wanted to fix everything.
God Always Intervenes In Things Like This
As what I considered to be a “young mother” still, at that time, I was lacking a great deal of “experience”. Otherwise, I would have known that God would show up, right on time, just like in other things.
We were driving down the road one day, having just dropped my husband off for work. All of a sudden, from his spot in the passenger seat of the car, Nathan started bouncing up and down with a huge smile on his face. He was
After trying not to swerve off the road, I finally was able to ask him what he was hollering about. I’ll never forget what he said. Tears still fill my eyes thinking back on it. He said,
“Don’y you see him?!” I admitted that I didn’t see anyone, and that made him all the more excited. Excitement mixed with frustration as he continued… “Mama, it’s Shane!” he squealed. “It’s him! He’s sitting right there behind that cloud, and he’s smiling and waving!”
Some Things Aren’t Meant For Our Eyes
I didn’t tell him that I still couldn’t see what he saw. Nor did I want to tell him. It occurred to me, as tears streamed down my face, that it was never meant for me anyway.
This was between Nathan and God. An answer to my prayer. As I watched him smile and wave, I simply waved too. Oh my heart!!
If he WAS there, and if he COULD see us because God had pulled back the curtain between the natural and the supernatural, I didn’t want to miss this chance.
After a few moments, Nathan stopped waving, so I did too. He never took his eyes of the “spot” he’d been looking at though. He said, still smiling, “I guess he’s doing okay up there with God after all.”
In the days, weeks, and years that went on, Nathan did okay too, here without his best friend. He still looks at pictures. He talks about him. And he never forgets.
None of us ever will.
Yeah, some things are awful hard to talk about, aren’t they?