Gluttony and an Answered Prayer

Our family spent this weekend in Dallas, deciding to hop on board with Tom when he went for a two-day seminar on tendon repair at a nearby hospital. Now all I'll say is, we stayed in the Embassy Suites Hotel. If you've stayed there before, you will know that the very core value of this hotel is an indulgence in gluttony. Which may not seem like a bad thing. Everything there was, there was a gut-load of, from food at all hours, to roomy rooms, to water of all types from three different sinks in the suite, plus a pool with a jacuzzi, a weight room with machines I have only dreamed of exercising on...... it goes on, but I'll spare you. Needless to say, we all chowed, swam, soaked, lounged, and lifted, to our hearts' content with not a care in all the world.

Now, somewhere admist our children's constant need to maintain a full ice bucket and litter multiple granite countertop surfaces with various and sundry cups of ice water, a single cup made its way into my purse, thoroughly soaking the contents, including my CELL PHONE. Well. This very sneaky cup of water somehow acted alone in its crime and was seen by no one at all. Imagine that. We could not contact Tom at the hospital and he could not call us. We were stranded in Dallas with no means of communication, for we had just checked out of our hotel and were cast out into the street. The end of Tom's seminar could be anywhere form 3 to 5pm. And my children had a very silent and panicky mother (I panic in silence, much like I labor in silence and ride roller coasters in silence. It takes all my concentration just to get through it--nothing is left for screaming.) At one point, Benj could be heard to say, "Mom, you're scaring me." I think they really wanted me to yell just to know I was alive.

It was a Sunday, and we had had to miss church, and after about 20 minutes of inward fretting, envisioning giant phone replacement fees, reactivation fees, etc., not to mention the mystery of when to go get Tom, I asked Joshie if he would say a prayer for my cell phone. He snickered but said, "Yeah, okay." Kids prayers are always more pure, and my gluttonous and then angry and then panicky state of mind didn't seem right for the occasion. Something you should know about Joshie's prayers is that they are like the rolling stream that meanders over the hills, around the bend, and finally over to where you are. He just has a lot to say to Heavenly Father (but not to most people) and the kids were getting restless. At the end of the prayer, both Emily and Benj were at my side, expectant, looking at the helpless phone and waiting. I pressed the power on. Eight eyes were staring. Nothing happened. Seeing the disappointment on both boys' faces, Emily began consoling them, maybe from fear that their growing faith in prayer may have just been crushed, and maybe for herself as well. She talked about how prayers don't always "work" right away. It can take time sometimes, and that we all just needed to have some patience. At different times, Benj and Josh both told me, "It's not the end of the world if your phone's dead." I could tell they thought this was a nice thing to say, but I still muttered, "Yes it is." Amazing that a third of the way through my life, I could still have only come this far maturity-wise.

We walked around a bit more and I saw a Verizon Wireless store. When I came out with my phone in three pieces, the kids were even more disheartened than before. I had let the technician power-dry the inards of the phone but was too ashamed to tell him I'd done all the things he called "no-no's" for when your phone gets wet. He said, "Trying to power it on many times can actually fry the phone. And if that doesn't do it, plugging it in to a direct power source certainly will." My smile may have betrayed my ignorance in this matter, but the man did not ask for an admission of guilt. I thanked him for his efforts, promised to lay it under a lamp (I used the sun) and went on my way.

Parking in a desserted parking lot for lack of another place to go, the kids and I sat and each said another prayer until at last we thought Tom might be getting close to finishing. You can't park in the front of this colossal hospital without a permit or you risk being towed, but we sat and risked it for ten minutes, then as I was circling around to try and locate a pay phone, (from which I would leave a message that Tom check each half-hour out front as I would drive by the hospital and look for him over the next two hours,) we spotted him. Halleluiah! Well now that seemed like an answer to a prayer we hadn't even offered, so our mood was lifted--until we sprung the bad news on him, in small sound bites that each of us could blurt out over each other. You could probably have guessed this about Tom, but he's way better at taking things in stride than I am, still it was not good news.

Well, it wasn't until hours later that I even tried the phone again, riding back to Waco in the dark. But at that moment, a miracle occured. The phone powered on and worked: all my settings, contacts, and pictures were still there, and even the time was right! I screamed and hugged my kids, thanking them for their prayers and showing them the newly resurrected phone. That phone was prayed back to life last night. A situation that should seen a sad ending was saved by the faith of our two little boys. I'm so proud of them, all three of them, and I'm thankful more than ever for their pure hearts.