This Sunday at church, we had a guest speaker
preaching. You may not know much
about the south, but you know we live, breathe, die, and make idiots of
ourselves over college football.
This preacher is a LEGEND in the football world. A legend, people. We are talking, works with national
champions, IS a national champion,
wears all the rings, ALL OF THESE
THINGS, HERO! (I mean, if I knew sports, I feel I could articulate this
better. He’s famous. A
really big deal.) AND, he brought all of his award-winning, sport playing, ring
wearing family members and their beautiful wives WITH HIM.
Ok. You get
I was so in awe of his message today and overcome by this
family. They, like us, are an
interracial family. But they have
generations among them and I was so drawn to the legacy they have created. We are just starting out. They have paved the way with strength and honor and grace. This is what we want to be
able to build for Mills. Towards
the end of the sermon, I went to the nursery to get him so the family could
pray with us at the end.
Mills is a flight risk. A “runner”, as we like to call him. So, he hasn’t darkened the doors of
“big church”, nor will he until he is 17? Later? Hard to say. On our way in, I grabbed a handful of
peppermints and began shoving them in his mouth in order to keep him quiet and
occupied until the end of the service.
It was sort of a beautiful moment to have all three of us sitting
together in church, on the front row (I'm that girl now!) for the first
time. The preacher asked us to bow
our heads and began to do the altar call. I noticed that Mills was unusually still and began to smile
to myself thinking about what a spiritually sensitive child we obviously have. Clearly, he was responding to the Holy
Spirit. I opened my eyes to nudge
Matt and alert him of our son’s holiness when I saw Mills clawing at his
neck. I began to pat him on his
back and noticed his face was quickly turning blood red. With people all over the floor at our
feet asking Jesus into their hearts, the famous athletes and beautiful people just
inches behind us, I suddenly began to scream, “he’s choking, he’s
choking!” All I could think was that I'd just killed my child with a breath freshener in order to beat other people to the front of the prayer line. Talk about a mom fail. Matt started to do a
hybrid Heimlich/karate chop, the preacher kept praying, I kept screaming and
the peppermint popped out.
When Mills was an infant, I was so overwhelmed I didn’t know
what to do. Matt would come home
from work (into a filthy house, with a crying baby AND wife), kiss me, swoop
the baby into his arms and say, “You did it! You’re both alive!
Great work today, Mama!”
I have maintained for the past two years that this is my
only goal. Keep.him.alive.
We had a close call, but today… I DID IT! I'm exhausted.