Last Saturday morning I received an e-mail from my son's school saying he had been involved in an accident.
My heart stopped.
But, let me say it again (and if there was a gratitude font, I'd be using it) – he is fine.
My boy has been working, for the past few weeks, on a service project in Central America and the bus that he was taking to the airport to return home was involved in a nasty accident.
My son, the other students and the teachers he was traveling with sustained only minor injuries in the crash. The motorcycle and the pick-up truck occupants that collided with their bus weren't as lucky.
I've been praying every day for everyone involved.
While I waited for everything to be sorted out and for my son and his friends to find another flight home – I worried. I worried about everyone's injuries and I worried about how they were coping with what they had witnessed.
My son is now home with me and seems to be doing well both emotionally and physically.
I don't really know how the people in Central America are, but I'm sure it's not as easy for them, as it is for my child, to get the care they need.
So, I would just like to say that last week when I was here fussing over all the stupid things on my Christmas list – the decorating I still had to do and all the stuff I thought I still needed to buy?
IT. MEANS. NOTHING.
My boy is home and mending quickly.
All my children are healthy and safe.
All my FAMILY is healthy and safe.
I have everything I need.
And I am truly and richly blessed.
Happy holidays, everyone.