The Call

As a teacher I don't usually answer my cell phone when it rings during class, so when it rang last Wednesday, I pulled it out of my pocket to silence it when I noticed that it was my mom. She knows my schedule and wouldn't usually call me during the day unless it was important. I let the call go to voicemail and moments later the, phone chimed indicating that I had a message.

Then it hit me that my sister was very pregnant and was expecting to deliver any time. "I bet my sister is having her baby," I said to the class. "I'm going to check and see." I called up my voicemail to hear my mom's concerned voice give me some very different news. This was not about my sister, but my brother.

"I need you to be praying," she began. This can't be good, was my first thought. Mom wouldn't start with that unless it was serious. She went on to explain that my brother, Andrew, had crashed on his motorcycle and was being airlifted to a hospital in Reno. He lives about 30 miles from Reno and there is a hospital not far from his house, so the only reason they would take him down the mountain was if it was serious.

You can't prepare for a call like that. You can't run drills where you practice teaching a class of fourth graders when your mind and emotions are blazing new trails to all kinds of unknown places. When all you know is that a motorcycle crash has led to a helicopter ride, the prospects don't look good. I stepped outside for a few minutes, leaving the class with my aide and tried to figure out how I was going to go back inside and be the one in control of a challenging group of nine-year-olds.

Before going back in the room, I called my mom back to let her know that I got the message, then I stood outside feeling nothing. A strange numbness consumed me as I began to pray, not even knowing what to pray for. After a few minutes I took several deep breaths and walked back in, but I didn't even know what to say. My aide took one look at me and said, "Do you want me to take the class to lunch early?"

At first I told myself that I should just stay busy so I wouldn't worry, that I could use my job to distract me, but I knew that wouldn't work. I thought about eating lunch, but I wasn't hungry. As a wandered aimlessly on campus, I ran into my principal. The class had told him that I was upset about something so he was coming to tell me to go home. I knew he was right. I couldn't teach, especially if I got another call with worse news.

It was as I was getting into my car, when I realized that I had to start driving and not stop until I had driven the full 500 miles from Southern California to Reno. A brief moment of clarity hit me when I turned left instead of right coming out of the parking lot. I was going to be gone at least one night and I should probably tell my wife what I was doing, so I headed home to pack a bag before hitting the road.

As I was driving, I got several updates on Andrew's condition, which kept changing as information trickled to us. The first bit of news was that he had broken his pelvis, among other things. By the time I arrived at the hospital around 10:00 that night, my parents and brother and one sister were there waiting. Andrew was still in surgery, but the prognosis for making a full recovery was good, especially since the broken pelvis was actually his femur, just below the hip joint.

His ribs were also broken and a lung had been punctured, but many of the other injuries that had been discussed, turned out to be false alarms.

Looking back now, I realize that although I didn't know how to pray during those first moments, prayers were being answered anyway and new prayers were being prayed by people Andrew didn't even know. At the start it was simply a prayer that he would live and that his wife would be strong. Fortunately, we got the news rather early on that that prayer would be answered. Then it switched to his recovery. There was a chance that a full recovery might not happen. The news at the hospital after the surgery reassured us that the second prayer would indeed be answered in time too. Finally, prayers switched to those of thanksgiving as we realized just how close Andrew had come to death and permanent injury. With ribs broken on either side of his spine it was clear that God had protected that vital area from injury.

The drama may be winding down, but the story is not over. Andrew still has a lot of recovering to do, but at least the recovery has begun, and for that we are thankful.