This was too good not to share...

Sometimes I get an email that is too good not to share... hmm... where have I heard that before?

I got this in an email from a person who attends Prairie Lutheran, the church I work for (if you knew this person, I think you would be surprised!)... anyway, as I read it, I thought I would share it with you. I don't know if it's true or not, but the message of the story still rings true!

OK, have a GREAT day... thanks for looking at this... I appreciate your visit, and I invite you to visit us! Our website is www.prairielutheran.org... check it out!

Blessings to you!
PrairiePete

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DAD’S STORY
 
On July 22nd, I was in route to Washington, DC for a business trip. It was all so very ordinary, until we landed in Denver for a plane change. As I collected my belongings from the overhead bin, an announcement was made for Mr. Lloyd Glenn to see the United Customer Service Representative immediately.

I thought nothing of it until I reached the door to leave the plane and I heard a gentleman asking every male if he were Mr. Glenn. At this point I knew something was wrong and my heart sunk.

When I got off the plane a solemn-faced young man came toward me and said, “Mr. Glenn, there is an emergency at your home. I do not know what the emergency is, or who is involved, but I will take you to the phone so you can call the hospital.”  My heart was now pounding, but the will to be calm took over. Woodenly, I followed this stranger to the distant telephone where I called the number he gave me for the Mission Hospital. My call was put through to the trauma center where I learned that my three-year-old son had been trapped underneath the automatic garage door for several minutes, and that when my wife had found him he was dead. CPR had been performed by a neighbor, who is a doctor, and the paramedics had continued the treatment as Brian was transported to the hospital.

By the time of my call, Brian was revived and they believed he would live, but they did not know how much damage had been done to his brain, nor to his heart.  They explained that the door had completely closed on his little sternum right over his heart. He had been severely crushed. After speaking with the medical staff, my wife sounded worried but not hysterical, and I took comfort in her calmness.

The return flight seemed to last forever, but finally I arrived at the hospital six hours after the garage door had come down. When I walked into the intensive care unit, nothing could have prepared me to see my little son lying so still on a great big bed with tubes and monitors everywhere. He was on a respirator. I glanced at my wife who stood and tried to give me a reassuring smile. It all seemed like a terrible dream. I was filled-in with the details and given a guarded prognosis. Brian was going to live, and the preliminary tests indicated that his heart was OK, two miracles in and of themselves. But only time would tell if his brain received any damage.

Throughout the seemingly endless hours, my wife was calm. She felt that Brian would eventually be all right. I hung on to her words and faith like a lifeline. All that night and the next day Brian remained unconscious. It seemed like forever since I had left for my business trip the day before.

Finally at two o’clock that afternoon, our son regained consciousness and sat up uttering the most beautiful words I have ever heard spoken. He said, “Daddy, hold me” and he reached for me with his little arms.

[TEAR BREAK...smile]

By the next day he was pronounced as having no neurological or physical deficits, and the story of his miraculous survival spread throughout the hospital. You cannot imagine, we took Brian home, we felt a unique reverence for the life and love of our Heavenly Father that comes to those who brush death so closely.

In the days that followed there was a special spirit about our home. Our two older children were much closer to their little brother. My wife and I were much closer to each other, and all of us were very close as a whole family. Life took on a less stressful pace. Perspective seemed to be more focused, and balance much easier to gain and maintain. We felt deeply blessed. Our gratitude was truly profound.

The story is not over (smile)!

Almost a month later to the day of the accident, Brian awoke from his afternoon nap and said, “Sit down Mommy.. I have something to tell you.” At this time in his life, Brian usually spoke in small phrases, so to say a large sentence surprised my wife. She sat down with him on his bed, and he began his sacred and remarkable story.

“Do you remember when I got stuck under the garage door? Well, it was so heavy and it hurt really badly. I called to you, but you couldn’t hear me.. I started to cry, but then it hurt too badly. And then the “birdies” came.”

“The birdies?” my wife asked puzzled.

“Yes,” he replied. “The birdies made a whooshing sound and flew into the garage. They took care of me.”

“They did?”

“Yes,” he said. “One of the birdies came and got you. She came to tell you “I got stuck under the door.” A sweet reverent feeling filled the room. The spirit was so strong and yet lighter than air. My wife realized that a three-year-old had no concept of death and spirits, so he was referring to the beings who came to him from beyond as “birdies” because they were up in the air like birds that fly…

“What did the birdies look like?” she asked.

Brian answered, “They were so beautiful. They were dressed in white, all white. Some of them had green and white. But some of them had on just white.”

“Did they say anything?”

“Yes,” he answered. “They told me the baby would be all right.”

“The baby?” my wife asked confused.

Brian answered. “The baby lying on the garage floor.” He went on, “You came out and opened the garage door and ran to the baby. You told the baby to stay and not leave.”

My wife nearly collapsed upon hearing this, for she had indeed gone and knelt beside Brian’s body and seeing his crushed chest whispered, “Don’t leave us Brian, please stay if you can.” As she listened to Brian telling her the words she had spoken, she realized that the spirit had left His body and was looking down from above on this little lifeless form.. “Then what happened?” she asked.

“We went on a trip,” he said, “far, far away.” He grew agitated trying to say the things he didn’t seem to have the words for. My wife tried to calm and comfort him, and let him know it would be okay. He struggled with wanting to tell something that obviously was very important to him, but finding the words was difficult.

“We flew so fast up in the air. They’re so pretty Mommy,” he added.

“And there are lots and lots of birdies.” My wife was stunned. Into her mind the sweet comforting spirit enveloped her more soundly, but with an urgency she had never before known. Brian went on to tell her that the “birdies” had told him that he had to come back and tell everyone about the “birdies.” He said they brought him back to the house and that a big fire truck, and an ambulance were there. A man was bringing the baby out on a white bed and he tried to tell the man that the baby would be okay. The story went on for an hour.

He taught us that “birdies” were always with us, but we don’t see them because we look with our eyes and we don’t hear them because we listen with our ears. But they are always there, you can only see them in here (he put his hand over his heart). They whisper the things to help us to do what is right because they love us so much. Brian continued, stating, “I have a plan, Mommy. You have a plan.. Daddy has a plan. Everyone has a plan. We must all live our plan and keep our promises. The birdies help us to do that because they love us so much.”

In the weeks that followed, he often came to us and told all, or part of it, again and again. Always the story remained the same. The details were never changed or out of order. A few times he added further bits of information and clarified the message he had already delivered. It never ceased to amaze us how he could tell such detail and speak beyond his ability when he talked about his birdies.

Everywhere he went, he told strangers about the “birdies.” Surprisingly, no one ever looked at him strangely when he did this. Rather, they always got a softened look on their face and smiled. Needless to say, we have not been the same ever since that day, and I pray we never will be.

You have just been sent an Angel to watch over you. Some people come into our lives and quickly go... Some people become friends and stay a while... leaving beautiful footprints on our hearts... and we are never quite the same because we have made a good friend!!

Yesterday is history. Tomorrow a mystery. Today is a gift. That’s why it’s called the present! Live and savor every moment...this is not a dress rehearsal! THIS IS A SPECIAL GUARDIAN ANGEL...
 
[Ed. Note: This next part is in the email… not my deal… you can do whatever you want to.]

YOU MUST PASS THIS ON TO 5 PEOPLE WITHIN THE HOUR OF RECEIVING IT... IF YOU HAVE PASSED HER ON, SHE’LL WATCH OVER YOU FOREVER...IF NOT, HER TEARS WILL FLOW.
 
Now don’t delete this message, because it comes from a very special Angel.

The more things change...

...aw, never mind!

The nice thing about writing a "monthly" blog is that there usually is something to rant about. Hmmm, let me think... what happened between my last post in the beginning of October 'til now? Something important, I think... I don't think it was weather-related... oh yes, now I remember!

I celebrated a birthday... that's the ticket! Whenever someone asks me how old I am, I always say, "92, but I'm in great shape!"

I'll just say that I'm older than the President-elect, but younger than his Vice-President!

Kinda like Norm from "Cheers"... "Hey, Mr. Peterson, whatcha up to?" "My ideal weight if I were 7' 2"!"

I think the best thing I've heard re: post-election America is... isn't it a great country where we can have such a heated campaign, yet at the end of the day, we are all Americans. We need to put aside our differences and pray for our new president. Like I heard one newsperson say, "I wonder if Sen. Obama is saying to himself... now what do I do?"

All the speculation, analysis, commentary... do we really need all of the rhetoric?

I'm reminded of my dad's mom, who just died last summer at the age of 103... the things she must have seen, all the political maneuverings over all the years... from riding sail-powered fishing boats to watching men walk on the moon... from the joys of motherhood to the pain of having to bury a child and a spouse...

My grandma's birthday is November 10th... my birthday is the 7th, my brother's is the 4th, as is one of my co-workers... another celebrated her birthday on the 6th (which is the same as John Phillip Sousa; don't ask me how I remember that!)... there are a lot of birthdays in November!

On another note, I've become a YouTube addict... does anyone remember when MTV and VH1 actually broadcast music videos? Back when they mattered? (Oh, sorry... that was kinda political, wasn't it?)

Anyway, I was an MTV / VH! addict big time... I was hooked on Thomas Dolby ("She Blinded Me With Science"); I wanted my MTV (Mark Knoffler and Sting); I remember staying up all night to watch Toto, Phil Collins and Philip Bailey, the Police, Foreigner, Journey and Steve Perry, Billy Joel, Elton John, Earth, Wind and Fire, Wild Cherry (hint: "Play that Funky Music...")... remember KC and the Sunshine Band, the Jackson 5 (when Michael had his real nose!)... can you tell I was addicted? What? You say I still AM addicted? No way!

Did I mention the Tubes, Todd Rundgren, The Cars, Duran Duran, Mr. Mister, The Fixx, van Halen, Chicago, Pete Cetera, Laura Brannigan, Karla Bonhoff, Nicolette Larson, Robbie Dupree, Roger Vadoris, Bobby Caldwell...

I hope you have a blessed Thanksgiving... we head into my personal "crazy time..." Advent and Christmas... lots of services, lots of different styles of music, lots of outside groups coming to perform, lots of inside groups performing as well... we're all givin' glory to the Lord, whatever way we can.

As you can tell, I have a fairly eclectic taste in music... some would say a schizophrenic taste in music! I've always felt that variety of the music we do at Prairie Lutheran is one of the reasons people come to worship... they know that they'll probably hear something familiar, but they'll probably hear a new song, or a new soloist or group... there's really never a dull moment!

Come and check us out if you're looking for a new church. You can check out our website at www.prairielutheran.org to hear samples of our pastors preaching, or to find out more about the congregation, staff and programming.

Ok, time to say "Good night, Gracie!" "Good night, Gracie!"

Have a GREAT day... we'll see you in church!

PrairiePete