A Shining White Cross Brings Me Peace

Sleepy and tired, still recovering from a bronchial infection, I had just put on my nightgown, and picked up my cell phone to charge it for the night. I saw Megan had called me only minutes before and I hadn't heard the ringtone. It was almost midnight, so I knew there must be a problem. I called her back and she answered the phone crying. My son Seth had had an accident and was in the emergency room with a head wound, bleeding profusely. He had fallen and hit his head on a concrete post. They wouldn't know how serious it was until they did an MRI, but he was going to need stitches. She cried “I don't want him to be there by himself.” I told her we would head out for the hospital right then, and for her to just stay home with their sleeping four year old.

When I got off the phone, my husband Scott was already getting dressed, surprisingly in an orange sweatshirt I knew he didn't like. I threw on clothes and went out to the car. As I got in and started coughing, I realized I didn't have my tissues or inhaler with me. I rushed back in the house to get them. There right in the center of my dresser was a shining white ceramic cross about the size of my hand. You couldn't miss it, but it had not been there even five minutes before. Comfort and warmth washed over me, as I realized God was speaking to me. How thankful I was for His presence! Through that cross, He reminded me He is in control.

Back in the car, I said to Scott, “There is a white cross on the dresser that wasn't there before.” He said “I know, I put it there.” Then I remembered I had bought it at a little shop in Florida when we were on vacation. To protect it, I had wrapped it in the new orange sweatshirt, packed it in the suitcase and forgotten all about it. Tonight, six weeks later, Scott had pulled out the sweatshirt, and the cross tumbled out. He placed it on the dresser. Amazed, I said, “I think it is a sign from God.” Scott said “That's what I thought too. Because I never wear that sweatshirt, and I don't know why I got it out.” It's a God thing, we said. On the way to the hospital, I texted my prayer sisters for help.

We were in the emergency room with Seth until 3 a.m., waiting for the results of the MRI (perfect) and standing by while they sewed him up. Thirteen stitches after an excruciating injection of novacain. After all the blood was cleaned up, we could see it was just one injury, a deep cut above Seth's eyebrow. Thanks be to God.

What makes you pick up a phone you didn't know was ringing? Or reach for a sweatshirt you don't even like? When seemingly random thoughts pop into your head, when you suddenly know something you didn't know the moment before, pay attention. Every day, every minute, God is giving you a message. You can tell it's Him. Because He sends it wrapped in peace, and sealed in love. And maybe even  tucked in a sweatshirt.