Once a parent, always a parent...

"Mom, a tornado hit the house and we have a tree in our bedroom."
"Son, these are not words mothers want to hear--is everyone okay?"
"Yes, we're fine. Dogs are fine. Cars are fine."
Mother (letting out breath she didn't even know she was holding) "Oh, thank heavens."
And to think my biggest fear up to that moment was whether or not my perm was leaving my newly long locks. Thoughts started rocketing through my brain. My baby's in danger--oh good Lord, Susan, he's thirty. Wizard of Oz. More tornadoes? I don't care how old he is, he's my son and I want to hug him NOW. He's in Nebraska. Think, think!
"How can we help you?"
"I may need money." No kidding. Tree in bedroom. Rain. Flooding. How does one deal with weather--we don't do much of that in Arizona, but I'm sure it will take money.
"But we may not. Just wanted you to know." Very independent son.
"Sure, son. But let us know, because we'll have to juggle some things, that's all. Where are you now?"
"At the neighbors. We want to be sure everyone's okay." Can you see why he wants to be a doctor? Warmth flows through me.
"And are they?"
"So far, everyone's okay." And so on...
The next day I spent on line getting everyone I could think of to pray for the citizens of my son's tiny village. The second storm was to come in that night--exactly the same way. Prayers sent up. The second storm changed track, came in from the opposite side and thank God and all the faithful, no tornado.
The thing is this: God wants us to ask. He wants us to need him. He wants us to reach out to each other. He wants us to help each other. My friend's neice said, "Wow! An epiphany!"