It was mid-afternoon when the call came.
“Hello”, I said.
“Hi, mom.”
I knew instantly something was wrong.
“I’m okay mom, I just went through the rear window of a woman’s car and my boss is coming to get me and take me to the hospital.”
“Andrew, what happened?”
“I was making a delivery and the woman in front of me slammed on her brakes. I didn’t have time to stop. I’m okay mom.”
“Did you have your helmet on?”
“Yes, mom”, he calmly replied.
“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
My heart was racing and my knees felt wobbly and there was an odd “shushing “ sound in my ears. I glanced at the clock and checked the ferry schedule while grabbing a coat and a backpack.
Andrew was attending college but his heart and soul was being a bike messenger. He was a “fixed gear” bicyclist which means his bike has no gears or brakes and the only way to stop is to “fish tail” the rear wheel in similar fashion that a skier stops while going downhill. I tried to imagine what had happened and if his boss had arrived to pick him up and why did he not call 911?
I strangely knew in that instant that I was not going to rush to the 3:30 ferry. I called our daughter who was a nurse in Seattle and she said that she was available to go to the E.R. right away.
“Thank you, Amanda, call me when you are with him. I will be on the 4:40 ferry.” Prayer seemed to be the best thing for my heart and body before departing the house with a wobbly body. My body was reeling from hearing the news and rushing at such a time would not have been wise. It was an unusual, new kind of kindness to myself to have a cup of tea and pray before rushing to the scene.
Prayer isn’t always the first thing I do when danger intrudes. When we moved to our home on Bainbridge Island, our twenty-pound terrier was viciously attacked in our yard by four large dogs! I looked out the window and Maggie was fighting for her life. The growling and barking was deafening and by the time I got to her she was in the jaws of our neighbor’s German shepherd! I began screaming and kicking the dogs and eventually grabbed Maggie from “Zeus’s” teeth and ran with her into our house. I hollered for Andrew, who was ten at the time, to get a towel and we ran to the car and rushed to a vet’s office. It wasn’t until we were driving that I remember praying.
My husband reminded me later it was a miracle that the dogs didn’t attack me. Like any mother my amygdala is set to protect those I love. I remember thinking as I swung at the dogs, if I am mauled, my husband will love me no matter how I look.
Capital “D” danger triggers our limbic system to go into fight, flight or freeze without thought. Even though my body was panicked with Andrew’s phone call, I somehow knew to slow down. Help was on the way for Andrew and our daughter would be the “first responder” family member. (Bless her love for medicine!) I had time to prepare my heart and mind to what my body was doing. This could end up being a very long night.
We all have countless stories of danger in our lives and we will all, unfortunately, have countess future stories of danger. One of the new things I am trying to do is be aware of my body and my surroundings when danger presents itself.
I am recognizing many anxious ways that I have lived within my body. With the story work I have recently done, I am learning to have compassion for my anxiety. I used to pride myself with being strong and capable of handling stress in various situations. “ I can do this myself! No, I don’t need any help. Oh, I feel fine, even when I don’t feel fine or even know how I feel! Or, it must be my fault for not being more clear.”
Because I have entered the “danger” of remembering stories of my childhood trauma I have been able to look back and see reasons why I developed certain ways of surviving. Today, I am quicker to remember lesson one from the Westminster shorter catechism: “What is the chief end of man? Man’s chief end is to glorify God and enjoy Him forever.” Enjoying God and enjoying the life He has given me has become a daily goal. On the day of Andrew’s accident, I somehow knew I needed time with God to be the mom Andrew needed in the ER.
Amanda called as I was walking from the 4:40 ferry and said, “He looks worse than I thought. There is so much blood!” What! This is my daughter, the nurse, being alarmed about too much blood! I could hear my heart pounding as I arrived at the E.R. They ushered me to his room and his forehead was glass punctured and bloody. The emergency room physician advised us to wait until the radiologist read the x-rays.
After three hours, the radiologist called me on a hospital phone in the hallway as he was looking at the x-rays and said there was quite a bit of glass remaining in Andrew’s forehead. There is “danger”, he explained, in not taking care of this immediately. He advised me to not leave the hospital until a plastic surgeon could see Andrew.
The hospital informed us that there was no plastic surgeon available at this hour and wanted to release us. They wrapped Andrew’s head in so much gauze he appeared to have a foot tall white (and red spotted) turban!
The stares of everyone we passed were intense. Seeing no other avenue but to walk along side this scary, horrific looking young man was surreal. I birthed this boy and when I held him in my arms, sweet, beautiful Andrew was spotless and without blemish . Nothing in the universe prepares us for nights like these, when we hang in the balance of “Please, God” and “What now?”. Danger is written into reality in a fallen world and our brains are wired to engage it. I am left with the decision daily to enter this world with a heart ready to face the fray, but to do so with a cup of tea and prayer.
Becky Allender lives on Bainbridge Island with her loving, wild husband of 38 years. A mother and grandmother, she is quite fond of sunshine, yoga, Hawaiian quilting and creating 17th Century reproduction samplers. A community of praying women, loving Jesus, and the art of gratitude fill her life with goodness. She wonders what she got herself into with Red Tent Living! bs
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Fearfully and wonderfully made are we, and nothing shows that like the mind. Growing older is such a gift, for it offers wise lessons if we pay attention. Thank you for sharing your learning with us, Becky. It is lovely.
Oh, my you are right about growing older with our minds and bodies. What worked in our youth changes and all that we are learning about the brain and our bodies requires us to be present in new ways for health and wellness. Being present take such presence! That is mindful, slow, and with purpose.
Beautifully said! How important to prepare our hearts for the onslaught of the world. Thanks for sharing- joan
Thank you Joan. It is a life of reacting if we don’t learn to take time, be present and see the world through our gifts and abundance.
Thank you for sharing your story, Becky. My heart was beating right along with yours as I read your words and heard your heart. I don’t know how long ago your story took place, but I hope your son is okay.
I hear a reminder, a call, to slow down and be sensitive to what our bodies are doing in the midst of dangerous circumstances. I need to keep hearing this reminder, as it does not come naturally to me.
And I love your daily goal to enjoy God and enjoy the life He has given you…another beautiful reminder. It is hard to enjoy Him or much else when rushing through this life. Yes, I am hearing the call…slow down the pace and enjoy, enjoy…Thank you once again. May you be blessed as you have blessed my heart today.
I love your words, “Yes, I am hearing the call…slow down the pace and enjoy, enjoy…” So, so, true and something that requires intentionality. Our bodies are great detectives in every way to tell us what we need and being present to our bodies gives keen wisdom to ourselves and others. Learning to slow down offers others peace too! And, our son is okay. Thanks for asking.
Thank you for sharing. I, too, have had a few of those “life will never be the same” moments and try to stop and remind myself that God is with me, with us, in the midst of whatever “fray” may come. Taking the time to remember, particularly in times of panic, is not always easy–but such a blessing when I am able.
Madeline, yes….it is as you said, “try to stop and remind myself that God is with me, with us, in the midst of whatever “fray” may come. Taking the time to remember, particularly in times of panic, is not always easy–but such a blessing when I am able.” So well said and I trust that as we age…people will look to our “calm, centered reactions” for modeling and for strength.
Oh my goodness, tea and prayer in the midst of danger! Such a wild and glorious thought – this caring for myself in the midst of my reactive amygdala. Thank you!
Those amygdalas of ours are active! And yes, to bless that and not curse our reactive reactions and learn to breath, be present and proceed from there….lifelong learning!
Your story and all the sharing that follows so blesses my often anxious heart! I, too, am learning new lessons of kindness to my amygdala and it is life changing! Thank you for sharing!
Thank you Jeanette! Some of the kindest people I know have to learn the very thing that they are so good at giving to others. May we learn new ways of kindness to ourselves that set us free in unexpected arenas!
Thank you. Such wisdom: ” I am left with the decision daily to enter this world with a heart ready to face the fray, but to do so with a cup of tea and prayer.” Beautiful reminder.
Thank you Linda Lea! A heart ready for the day is one that trusts in His goodness and provision and so much more. A heart that is ready to see with awe and gratitude. That’s what I yearn for more and more.
“Nothing in the universe prepares us for nights like these, when we hang in the balance of “Please, God” and “What now?”. Danger is written into reality in a fallen world and our brains are wired to engage it.” Oh dear Becky, how frightening to learn your child is harmed and the pace to his side is slow and out of your control. I’ve had one of those times recently as well. We began our rush to the hospital in the midst of a fierce thunderstorm. When tree limbs began to fall around us and onto the highway, we turned back. The calm and trust you must have held to sit with a cup of warm tea and invite God into your fright or flight is so inviting. i want to be more like you. You show me a path that offers tenderness to my body – a time to offer myself care before entering the uncertainty of the trauma swirling around me. Thank you friend. I have some tea bags ready for the next time danger threatens.
Dear Valerie, Thank you and I can only imagine all the extra times you have had to face danger because you have more children and grandchildren than I do. That trip you described in the thunderstorm is so scary!!! May we both continue to learn how to be tender and kind with ourselves and others…all the way to heaven! You always encourage me, Valerie!
There is something about how the reality of danger impacting our children, even our adult children, that rattles me down to the depths of my soul. Remaining kind to me heart, body and mind in those spaces is often so hard to keep at the forefront as everything within screams for me to “do something”.
Tracy, oh my….yes! How we just want to do something and with adult children the doing something is so different than for a young one. To remain present and kind to our heart, mind and body in all circumstances is a learning curve for a lifetime!
Oh Becky, my own heart began racing as I was reading your blog. There IS so much danger facing our children (and us!) in this fallen world but I loved how you found and are continuing to find kindness for yourself and your beautiful and necessary amygdala!! Thank you for sharing your hard earned wisdom as I am now prepared to have my own ‘cup of tea and prayer’ next time I am called to enter the fray.
Laurie, oh my, you hit the nail on the head. And I started to laugh as I was typing this thinking of a few hymns that have bless my soul and changing it to “bless my amygdala”! Maybe some new praise and worship songs to coincide what we have learned about our brains and trauma! Lots of hugs and blessings to you and Dave as I realize the youthfulness of your dear children and what is ahead. You two are marvels with wisdom and loving…still, “bless your amygdala!.”
Hi, Pacific NW blogger friend. I love your story. When things happens to our kids —it brings you to your knees. God is good and He is always with us. He will help us get through. I hope your son is okay.
Thank you! Yes to my fellow Pacific NW blogger friend…you too? My son is okay and chose not to have plastic surgery to remove the glass…battle scars, right?