IN HIS HANDS

by Jerry Blackerby

I picked up the telephone and heard Dad’s quivering voice, “Son, your mother is in the hospital in Corsicana.”

“What? What happened, Dad?” My mind was racing through the possibilities.

“I don’t know, Son. I left the house to go to Corsicana and went back by the house after putting gas in the car. She was lying on the floor, naked and unconscious with her head bleeding. Someone must have broken in and hit her on the head. She was still unconscious when the ambulance left. I am going to the hospital now. Can you meet me there?” Dad replied. I could hear a sense of urgency in Dad’s voice.

“I’ll be there as soon as I can get there, Dad.” I hung up and told my boss that I had to leave. I called my wife, Billie, and told her about the call. Billie said, “I’ll be ready when you get here.” I left the office and headed home in my Ford Pinto.

Time crawled slower than the Friday afternoon traffic and my mind was working overtime with worry about Mom. When I reached the house, Billie had packed for both of us. We loaded her Oldsmobile and left the house about 3:30 PM, dreading the drive down Central Expressway during Friday rush hour. Billie kept reminding me, “God will take care of your Mom. She is in His hands. There is nothing you can do, so relax and have faith. Everything will be okay.”

Mom was awake when we arrived at the hospital in Corsicana, but did not know what had happened. She said, “I remember hearing the telephone ring as I got out of the bathtub. The next thing I remember was waking up in the ambulance.”

Mom had a cut on the back of her head and a concussion. The doctors were going to keep her through the weekend and do more tests Monday to see if she had a stroke.

Dad asked me to drive his Chevy Vega as we returned to his home that evening. Dad was the pastor of a small Baptist church in Trinidad.

Dad began telling me what had happened, “I needed to go to Corsicana, so I kissed your mother and locked the side door as I left because she was going to take a bath. I went by the gas station to put gas in the car and thought of something I needed to do at the house.”

I asked, “What did you need to do at the house?”

“I don’t remember! When I saw your mother on the hall floor, naked and unconscious with a towel next to her and her head bloody, I knew I had to get a robe on her and call the medics.” Dad’s voice still quivered as he spoke.

“You dressed her before you called the medics?”

“Son, I couldn’t let the medics find her naked! It would kill your mother for them to see her naked.”

I asked, “Was the door locked when you went in the house? Did you check the other doors?”

Dad said, “I went in the side door, by the carport. I unlocked it but didn’t check the other doors; I was too upset. After the medics came, I called you and left for the hospital.”

Dad dug in his pocket for his bottle of nitro pills. I changed the subject for the rest of the ride home because Dad was worried about Mom and feeling Angina pain. I tried to get his mind on something else to relax him. I had never driven a Vega before so we talked about the relative merits of a Vega and a Pinto.

When we arrived at Dad’s house, I parked under the carport. Dad unlocked the side door and we entered the house. I quickly checked both the front and back doors, which were still locked. We walked through the house and did not see any signs of a break-in and did not see anything that looked out of place.

We could see the almost dry, small pool of blood in the hallway, just outside the bathroom door. Billie began cleaning the blood from the floor. The single light in the hall is not very bright, so I found a flashlight to look at the door facing on the bathroom door.

“Dad, look at this. There’s a spot of blood on the edge of this door facing.” I continued, “Mom said that she remembered the phone ringing as she stepped out of the tub. You know how Mom is when the phone rings.”

“You’re right, Son. I’ve told her she didn’t have to run to answer a telephone, but she always said ‘It might be important’ and ran anyway,” Dad said.

“I bet she was still wet and ran to answer the phone in the hallway. When her wet feet hit the hardwood floor in the hall, she slipped and her head hit the door facing,” I responded.

Billie finished cleaning the blood on the hall floor and we sat down in the living room. I said, “Dad, I haven’t found any signs of a break-in. It must have been an accident. God caused you to come back home to find Mom.”

As we discussed the event, Dad was more relaxed than he was earlier but never remembered why he returned to the house. We bowed our heads while Dad offered a prayer thanking God that he had returned in time to save Mom’s life.

Mom stayed in the hospital for more tests on Monday. The doctor did not find signs of a stroke and agreed with our conclusion about Mom hitting her head on the door facing.

This event made a point with all of us that God is still in control, every day in every way. God has shown us over and over that we are in His hands and we must have faith in Him.