MOMMA
LOOK IT'S JESUS - MIDI DOWNLOAD
A
Father's Story
On
July 22nd I was enroute to Washington, DC for a business trip. It
was all so very ordinary, until we landed in Denver for a plane change.
As I collected my belongings from the overhead
bin, an
announcement
was made for Mr. Lloyd Glenn to see the United Customer Service Representative
immediately. I thought nothing of it until I reached the door to
leave the plane, and I heard a gentleman asking every male if they were
Mr. Glenn.
At
this point I knew something was wrong and my heart sunk. When I got off
the plane a solemn-faced young man came toward me and said, "Mr. Glenn,
there is an emergency at your home. I do not know what the emergency
is, or who is involved,but I will take you to the phone so you can call
the hospital."
My
heart was now pounding, but the will to be calm took over. Woodenly,
I followed this stranger to the distant telephone where I called the number
he gave me for the Mission Hospital. My call was put through to the
trauma center where I learned that my
three-year-old
son had been trapped underneath the automatic garage door for several minutes,
and that when my wife had found him he was dead.
CPR
had been performed by a neighbor, who is a doctor, and the paramedics had
continued the treatment as Brian was transported to the hospital.
By
the time of my call, Brian was revived and they believed he would live,
but they did not know how much damage had been done to his brain, nor to
his heart. They explained that the door had completely closed on
his little sternum right over his heart. He had been severely crushed.
After speaking with
the
medical staff, my wife sounded worried but not hysterical, and I took comfort
in her calmness.
The
return flight seemed to last forever, but finally I arrived at the hospital
six hours after the garage door had come down.
When
I walked into the intensive care unit, nothing could have prepared me to
see my little son laying so still on a great big bed with tubes and monitors
everywhere. He was on a respirator. I glanced at my wife who
stood and tried to give me a reassuring
smile.
It all seemed like a terrible dream.
I
was filled-in with the details and given a guarded prognosis. Brian
was going to live, and the preliminary tests indicated that his heart was
OK,
two
miracles in and of themselves. But only time would tell if his brain
received any damage. Throughout the seemingly endless hours, my wife
was calm. She felt that Brian would eventually be all right.
I hung on to her words and faith like a lifeline.
All
that night and the next day Brian remained unconscious. It seemed
like forever since I had
left
for my business trip the day before.
Finally
at two o'clock that afternoon, our son regained consciousness and sat up
uttering the
most
beautiful words I have ever heard spoken.
He
said, "Daddy hold me" and he reached for me with his little arms.
By
the next day he was pronounced as having no neurological or physical deficits,
and the story of
his
miraculous survival spread throughout the hospital. You cannot imagine
we took Brian home,
we
felt a unique reverence for the life and love of
our
Heavenly Father that comes to those who
brush
death so closely..
In
the days that followed there was a special
spirit
about our home. Our two older children
were
much closer to their little brother. My wife
and
I were much closer to each other, and all
of
us were very close as a whole family. Life
took
on a less stressful pace.
Perspective
seemed to be more focused, and
balance
much easier to gain and maintain.
We
felt deeply blessed. Our gratitude was truly profound.
The
story is not over!
Almost
a month later to the day of the accident,
Brian
awoke from his afternoon nap and said,
"Sit
down Mommy. I have something to tell you."
At
this time in his life, Brian usually spoke in
small
phrases, so to say a large sentence
surprised
my wife.
She
sat down with him on his bed, and he
began
his sacred and remarkable story.
"Do
you remember when I got stuck under the
garage
door? Well, it was so heavy and it hurt
really
bad. I called to you, but you couldn't hear me.
I
started to cry, but then it hurt too bad. And
then
the 'birdies' came."
"The
birdies?" my wife asked puzzled.
"Yes,"
he replied. "The birdies made a
whooshing
sound and flew into the garage.
They
took care of me."
"They
did?"
"Yes,"
he said. "one of the birdies came and got you. She came to
tell you I got stuck under
the
door."
A
sweet reverent feeling filled the room. The
spirit
was so strong and yet lighter than air.
My
wife realized that a three-year-old had no
concept
of death and spirits, so he was referring
to
the beings who came to him from beyond as "birdies" because they were up
in the air like
birds
that fly.
"What
did the birdies look like?" she asked..
Brian
answered, "They were so beautiful. They
were
dressed in white, all white. Some of them
had
green and white. But some of them had on
just
white."
"Did
they say anything?"
"Yes,"
he answered. "They told me the baby
would
be all right."
"The
baby?" my wife asked confused..
Brian
answered. "The baby laying on the
garage
floor." He went on, "You came out and
opened
the garage door and ran to the baby.
You
told the baby to stay and not leave."
My
wife nearly collapsed upon hearing this,
for
she had indeed gone and knelt beside
Brian's
body and seeing his crushed chest
whispered,
"Don't leave us Brian, please stay
if
you can." As she listened to Brian telling
her
the words she had spoken, she realized
that
the spirit had left his body and was looking
down
from above on this little lifeless form.
"Then
what happened?" she asked..
"We
went on a trip." he said, "Far, far away."
He
grew agitated trying to say the things he
didn't
seem to have the words for. My wife
tried
to calm and comfort him, and let him
know
it would be okay. He struggled with
wanting
to tell something that obviously
was
very important to him, but finding the
words
was difficult. "We flew so fast up in
the
air. They're so pretty Mommy," he added.
"And
there are lots and lots of birdies."
My
wife was stunned. Into her mind the
sweet
comforting spirit enveloped her more
soundly,
but with an urgency she had never
before
known.
Brian
went on to tell her that the "birdies"
had
told him that he had to come back and
tell
everyone about the "birdies." He said they
brought
him back to the house and that a big
fire
truck, and an ambulance were there. A
man
was bringing the baby out on a white
bed
and he tried to tell the man that the
baby
would be okay, but the man couldn't
hear
him. He said the birdies told him he
had
to go with the ambulance, but they would
be
near him. He said they were so pretty and
so
peaceful, and he didn't want to come back.
Then
the bright light came. He said that the
light
was so bright and so warm, and he loved
the
bright light so much. Someone was in the
bright
light and put their arms around him, and
told
him, "I love you but you have to go back.
you
have to play baseball, and tell everyone
about
the birdies.
"Then
the person in the bright light kissed him
and
waved bye-bye. Then woosh, the big sound
came
and they went into the clouds.
The
story went on for an hour. He taught us
that
"birdies" were always with us, but we
don't
see them because we look with our eyes
and
we don't hear them because we listen
with
our ears. But they are always there, you
can
only see them in here (he put his hand
over
his heart). They whisper the things to
help
us to do what is right because they
love
us so much.
Brian
continued, stating, "I have a plan,
Mommy.
You have a plan. Daddy has a plan. Everyone has a plan. We
must all live our
plan
and keep our promises. The birdis help
us
to do that cause they love us so much."
In
the weeks that followed, he often came to
us
and told all, or part of it, again and again.
Always
the story remained the same. The
details
were never changed or out of order. A
few
times he added further bits of information
and
clarified the message he had already
delivered.
It never ceased to amaze us how
he
could tell such detail and speak beyond
his
ability when he talked about his birdies.
Everywhere
he went, he told strangers about
the
"birdies."
Surprisingly,
no one ever looked at him
strangely
when he did this. Rather, they always
got
a softened look on their face and smiled.
Needless
to say, we have not been the same
ever
since that day, and I pray we never
will
be.
An
Angel To Watch over You Some people
come
into our lives and quickly go....
Some
people become friends and stay a
while...leaving
beautiful footprints on our
hearts...and
we are never quite the same
because
we have made a good friend!!
Yesterday
is history..
Tomorrow
a mystery..
Today
is a gift..
That's
why it's called the present!
Live
and savor every moment.....this is
not
a dress rehearsal!
|
