Squalls and Storms


It takes a real storm in the average person’s life to make him realize how much worrying he has done over the squalls. ~ Bruce Barton

When my children were small I used to harp on them about picking their things up, make their beds, do this, do that. And so I should have because it taught them responsibility. But what shouldn’t have happened is where my feelings of frustration took me. After a hard day, something as simple as tripping over a pair of ragged athletic shoes would make me want to yell.

However, Christmas Day, 1997, the owner of those shoes, my son William, was flown to Arkansas Children’s Hospital. He suffered a brain empyema caused from a sinus infection where the pressure had pushed the infection past the blood/brain barrier. He was only thirteen at the time. The doctors said he had a 50/50 chance of survival.

While he was in surgery I thought about those shoes and how I would gladly trip over them every day if only William would survive. Thankfully he did.

Squalls and storms. I learned the difference that day. Not to say I haven’t fretted over a squall since then, but it only takes this memory to help me adjust my attitude.