Dreaded Calls

I want to thank all of my family and friends who have been praying for my son, Darrel. Being the mother of 2 police officers, I try hard not to dwell on what they do for a living. I got a call yesterday about my oldest son being in an accident. Somehow in a pursuit he was struck by a semi. I packed a bag so we could head up to Oklahoma. We had to wait for a while until they decided where to fly him for care. Would it be Paris, Tulsa, Oklahoma City, or Fort Smith? They chose Fort Smith. My husband wanted to wait and talk to someone in the ER at Fort Smith to see what kind of shape he was in. I was in my "Mom" Mode and thought we needed to rush off somewhere now. After talking with the ER in Fort Smith, my husband said that they would probably send him home. Still in "Mom" Mode, I repeatedly told him, "He got hit by a truck! They don't send you home right after you get hit by a truck!" But I guess they do. They released him from the hospital in Fort Smith around midnight. He has a broken collarbone, a fractured pelvis, cuts, and bruises. He is in quiet a bit of pain, and it will take him months before he is back at work, but isn't God Great!