On May 5, 2026, my daughter-in-law called me screaming. My son had been in a horrific car accident and was being airlifted to a hospital. He had somehow managed to call her himself, but we didn't know how badly he was hurt.
I went straight into “mom mode.” I tried to calm her while panic rose inside me. My mind couldn't wrap around the possibility that my son might not live. I started making plans to get to the hospital, several hours away. I focused on what needed doing because I couldn't face what might be happening.
To this day, I'm not sure whether I was shutting down my emotions or whether God was shielding my heart. Maybe I couldn't tell the difference then.
I wanted to fix it. That's what moms do, right? When my son was little, a Band-Aid and a kiss could make most things better. But no amount of “mom magic” could help me now. His medical care was out of my hands.
So I started calling and texting friends, family, church groups, and my Daily Call sisters. I needed people praying. I was helpless—but Jesus wasn't.
My daughter-in-law went to the accident scene and FaceTimed me. I saw the car. The front and passenger side were mangled. The windshield was gone. It was terrifying. And in the middle of that fear, I felt something like peace. I still can't fully explain it.
I wanted my daughter-in-law to hold on to hope. I spoke words of encouragement, and I kept praying. In that moment I felt there was no other option: Jesus had to save my son. All we could do was pray and wait.
I later experienced what I believe God gave me as a vision of the crash: two angels flying into the car, wrapping their wings around my son, and pressing him into his seat as his car struck a semi-truck at 65 miles per hour. In that vision, their wings sheltered him from the flying debris. I can't explain it, but remembering it gives me peace.
What happened next still amazes me. My son opened his driver's door and stepped out of the wreckage. He arrived at the hospital at 12:30 p.m. and was released at 10:30 that night. He had bruises, cuts from the glass, and stitches in his face—but he walked out on his own.
Five days later, he was at the beach celebrating his little boy's fourth birthday.
My Daily Call sisters didn't just pray once and move on. They supported me throughout that day, gathered around me on Zoom the next morning, and helped me process what had happened. They even gave money for groceries and gas while my son recovered at home and attended physical therapy. Their love was something I could see and hold on to.
My son doesn't claim to be a “perfect Christian.” He goes to church now and then, but he believes God spared his life. I see signs of him leaning on that belief in everyday circumstances, and I believe God is still working in his heart. His story isn't finished.
Neither is mine. When I get frustrated because life isn't going my way, I remember that call, that car, and my son walking out of the hospital. I can't protect everyone I love. But I can keep bringing them to Jesus.
Scripture to remember
“God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.”
Psalm 46:1 · King James Version (KJV)
“For he shall give his angels charge over thee, to keep thee in all thy ways.”
Psalm 91:11 · King James Version (KJV)
These Scriptures speak of God's help and care; they are not a promise that every crisis will have the same outcome.
If you're carrying something you can't fix
If you're facing something you cannot fix, you can still pray. Ask others to pray with you. Jesus is worthy of your trust, even when you don't know what will happen next. And if you have seen His faithfulness, don't forget to tell somebody.