Tender Mercies

Becky is asleep in her own bed, the evening sun splashing across her pink and green quilt. Peter is combing his freshly showered hair, intent on playing his piano after days with none at all. Chinese Chicken Noodle soup is made and waiting for Cal to come home.

I spent an "unproductive" day crying. About my sin. About my difficulties. About my sick children in Atlanta who were going to miss their flight for flu symptoms. Crying to Marissa, their dear surrogate mom who was willing to keep them through their sickness. Crying to Glenda, who called to talk and thanked me for venting when I was all through. Thanked me. It means friendship to her to bear my load. Crying to Becky whose dear little voice overwhelmed me with frustration and sadness. Crying in front of Grace and AJ.

And then Cal made an executive decision five minutes almost too late and called Marissa and told her to put them on the plane anyway. Grace and I were to meet them after Grace's piano lesson. I didn't take AJ with us since he, too, looks ill and feels ill.

As we entered the parking garage I prayed out loud for a parking space as close as I could get. And this first lane we were in was marked BB. I told Grace maybe we could find one in this section for Becky Beisner. We drove all the way to the closest end facing our terminal, and without even having to turn I drove straight into an empty parking space! As we crossed the street and entered the building I realized that the luggage bay just in front of the door was the one that was to be theirs. Grace and I had time to use the bathroom and find our way to the closest we could go to meet them. With time to kill I asked five separate officials where, how, I could get a wheel chair to meet my sick daughter. I got five different answers and none of them helpful. Oh, well, it was getting close to their arrival time. Grace and I headed back to where they would be coming out and we passed a stranded wheelchair that I had seen a moment before. In true Melvin style I asked the nearby if it belonged to any of them, and took it as from the Lord Himself when no one claimed it. It scandalized Grace a wee bit, but as we walked to the passenger exit she called out "There they are!" Peter was on the cell assuring Marissa they had arrived. Becky didn't want to sit because she didn't remember elevators, but I made her do it. After their bags were the first to come out we headed for the car and in true Beisner fashion Becky gave up her wheelchair before I could walk her across the street.

Was I going to take the interstate home at 4:30?! We decided even a slow interstate would be better than surface streets at this time of day, and with the hilarity of the tender blessings of ease and comfort the last minutes had provided I suggested that perhaps God would grant us a quick and uneventful trip home. He did. And I thank Him publicly here.

Peter never quit talking all the way home, weak as he looks.