I sat at the end of the table with three pre-teens staring at me. Their father, my brother, had just left the house for the Emergency Room 30 minutes away because he was vomiting blood. Overwhelmed, I was 8 again rushing to find my parents because Daniel was having an asthma attack or had a concussion. I was deeply afraid and desperately wanted to fall into a fetal position and weep. But there were 6 eyes full of fear looking at me... 4 of them full of tears. The 11 year old made an inappropriate joke as his best attempt to help the situation and reality slapped me... I was the adult. I simply looked at the 9 year old and said, "Come here." He curled into the fetal position on my lap and then I told my first lie/prayer. "Everything's gonna to be alright." I said that statement having no idea if it was going to be even slightly ok let alone "alright". As I said the words I knew that there was a possibility that I was completely lying to these kids. So I turned to Jesus and I said it again... with a boldness that only a child of God can dare. "Everything's gonna be alright." The undertone saying, "The onus is on You, Jesus, that everything's going to be alright." At this point I knew I was playing with fire, stating with faith what I wanted, needed to be true, trusting the only One who could actually make it true, looking into the eyes of children telling them it was true. I watched their fear retreat as the weight on my soul increased. What if God's will wasn't "alright"? I pushed them into their routines: dishes, showers, brush teeth, Phineas and Ferb, sleep... and then I waited. Daniel came home ok... high on pain killers and apologizing for driving erratically (no he was not driving... just thought he was) with a 6 inch gash in his esophagus. The journey to "alright" has only just begun and no matter what happens my brother's kids eyes from that night will always haunt me.
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