Words Without Pictures

I left at exactly the right time to arrive at my destination. I turned up the road and immediately noticed a car to my right on the shoulder, hazards slowing time. My eyes scanned the surrounding area, wondering where the occupants were and then I saw. In the median between this way and that way, time most certainly stood still. A young child, maybe three or four, was holding tight to a woman's hand. The woman, crouched down, the child too, looking at a memorial of flowers and a cross, faded and winter-worn.

And then they rose and crossed back over the road to the waiting car.

My mind was digging deep, remembering the news of a car crash in this very spot, one that left a toddler fatherless, about a year and a half ago. It fit, too easily and not at all at the same time.

As I drove on I realized I had turned down the wrong road. This wrong turn gave me a front row seat to this very sad scene that played out before my eyes. For some reason I was meant to see this. And I know. I know why.

I prayed for that young child as I carried on in time to my destination.

"God, please watch over this young one. Tenderly care for and love this little heart."

God Help Us

This morning the big news was the snow.
Not now.
God, please help.
Praying for all those impacted by Boston's horrific events. The reach is far.
God help us all.