My Son, My Son, Oh, My Son
I remember that night. I was half awake, in those moments just before sleep takes hold. Suddenly I felt that I was lifted up slightly. I remember speaking in my mind to God, and saying,"is this the night were going to be caught up to meet you?"
The next thing I knew was being awakened from a deep sleep by the ringing of the telephone in the hall. I arose and cast a quick glance at the clock next to my bed. It was 3am. I hurried to the phone and answered it.
On the other end of the line I heard by daughter-in-law's voice. "A friend called to tell me that, and she spoke the name of my oldest son, has had an accident, and they have taken him to the Herrera Llarandi hospital. The friend said that he is coming to pick me up, but I don't know this person, what if it is a trick to get me out of the house?" Then she said, "They are here, I have to go," and she hung up.
I quickly called to my younger son and daughter to get up. I asked my son to call the hospital and see what they had to say.
I heard my son on the phone asking if my son were there, and then I heard him say, "I am his brother."
When I heard that, I knew my first born son was dead at the age of twenty-eight.
My younger son hung up the phone, and just walked worriedly around the room with his head hung down. I knew he was trying to find the words to break the news to me, so I asked, "is he dead?"
He nodded and said, "they say it was a bad accident, and yes, he is dead."
A calmness that I had never known possible came over me. I closed my eyes and thought, "Well, what are you going to do with God now? When everything was going well, you proclaimed your love for Him, how about now?
I said, "Lord, I believed you in the good times, I am going to believe in you in the no good times. I believe in you now!"
It seemed that it took forever to get to the hospital, everything was going in slow motion.
When we arrived at the hospital, all of my husband's family had already arrived, and were waiting in the hall.
My daughter-in-law met me and took me to where my son lay in death, his face quiet, his mouth open.
I put my hand on Him, and began to cry, "my baby, my baby, Oh, my baby." The voice ended in a wail and sounded like it came from somewhere far away.
One of my husbands family came and started to lead me away, but I wouldn't go. I began to calm down again. As I looked at him, I could see that he had not been killed in a car accident as I had been lead to believe, but had a bullet hole in the center of his chest just below his heart, one more entered his cheek and had gone out behind his ear, and on either side of his neck, about 6 bullet holes almost perfectly aligned along his carotid arteries. Who ever had done this, did not intend for him to walk away.
Slowly the story unraveled, a dispute in a popular restaurant and lounge had left his killers angry. As he walked out the door they had followed him and this was the result of a well aimed mini-uzi.
Soon the forensic doctors came and ordered us out of the room. They then took his body to a room where they would do forensic work, and they did the autopsy.
I knew that I needed a place away from all the activities, where I could pray. I spoke to my son and he asked a nurse, who lead him, my daughter, and I too a closed off area of the hospital.
We all began to pray.
I felt the need to get back in with my son's body. I believe that the Christian has the authority to rebuke death, I wanted my son back.
As we were praying the Lord appeared to my son and told him that his brother was resting and then put his arms around him and comforted him. He felt much easier in his spirit because of it.
We went to wait outside of the room where my son was. I kept sending the message that they were not to take my son before we could get back in with him. It seemed we waited a life time.
Finally the doctors came out and said that we could go in, but we weren't to uncover any part of him, and could only look at his face. My son and I went into the room and closed the door.
I turned to my son lying on the stretcher, grabbed him by the feet and yelled, "Spirit of death, I rebuke you and command you to let him go." To my son I ordered, "get back in your body!" As I said this, I had such a spirit of peace that he was ok, he was with his Father in heaven, nothing could hurt him anymore. I let go of his feet, and I began to say, "Lord, I just want to thank you for letting be the mother of this wonderful boy, I love him sooo much, and I know that you love him too. I know that he is alright, and that he is with you, I just give you praise for so much love in my life. Father, I'm going to let him go, into your hands I commend his spirit." My other son said "amen!"
I turned to take one last look at my son before they took him. His mouth had closed and on his face was the most beautiful smile. I said to his brother, look at that smile. He wanted to stay where he is.
We walked out of the room and the rest of the family began to crowd in for one last look before they took him to the morgue. I could hear them asking, "Where did he get that smile, he didn't have that before."
One of my sisters, called as soon as she found out and said, "the Lord has had me in fasting and prayer since the beginning of the month, I am coming there and we will ask God to raise him." I said, "OK" but I was at peace with his being where he was. When my sister arrived, we went to the cemetery. It was a beautiful day. We held a praise service over that grave. We sang praises and read the word of God for about 5 hours. At one point a little whirlwind arose around us, with my eyes closed I could almost imagine my son coming back in that whirlwind, but he didn't. Shortly before we left 6 white doves suddenly appeared and began to circle the tomb. As they started to fly off, I looked up and said, "Lord, if that is a sign that He is with you, then I ask that they will come back and fly directly over the tomb." I watched in wonder as the little birds fought against the wind to turn back, and then they flew directly over the tomb, and then flew away.
I said to my sister, "we got one inside the gate, hallelujah!"
That Sunday in church as I was answering an alter call to give my life to the work of Christ, God gave me a vision. I saw a throng of people standing before the great white throne in heaven praising God, and there in the middle, looking right at me was my son. The voice of the Lord said,"he is among those who worship me day and night around my great white throne."
What a glorious hope we have. One day we will not only see Jesus, but we will receive back our dead!
I have been at funerals, where the people had lost someone, but they didn't know or believe in God. I have seen the hopelessness as they have pronounced the words, "good bye forever"
Earth has no sorrow that heaven can not heal, but you have to know that He has already paid the price so that we may live with Him eternally.
The law never investigated this death. My husband was terribly upset by it, and before his own death spent many valuable hours pursuing the known perpetrator. The boy that had done this was about the same age as my son. I knew that my son was ok, my greatest pain was for my two fatherless grandchildren. Their pain was great, and that hurt me.
As I thought about the young man who had murdered my son, I felt no anger towards him, God had taken all of that from me. It seemed to me that the only way satan would win, was if this young man were killed and his life destroyed forever. My husband had thought about hiring someone to kill him, but I just felt that the only good that would come would be if this young man were to have a life changing encounter with Jesus Christ. I didn't know where he was, but I could pray for him. I began to ask God to save this young man for His glory.
A short time after my husbands death, my younger son came across an old friend that he hadn't seen in sometime. The friend asked him about his brother, and my son began to recount the facts about his death.
Suddenly his friends face changed. He said, "That story sounds familiar to me. Do you know the name of the person who killed him?" My son answered, "yes." His friend said "was it ....?" and he gave him the correct name. Again my son answered, "yes."
Then his friend began to tell him that when he had been baptized a while before, this young man was baptized with him. The same young man who had killed my son. He had told this friend the story of my son's death, and said that he was never free from the pain and guilt of it, and, that had been what had driven him to the Lord. In hearing this My son was filled by all kinds of emotions, but he knew in that minute he had to forgive this person, for whom he had felt so much hate. He struggled until he was finally able to say to his friend, "would you do me a favor?" "yes." His friend replied.
My son struggled to get the words out, but he knew he had to do it. "Would you tell him that I forgive him? And tell him that if he has truly accepted Jesus Christ as his savior he is now my brother." There were tears in his eyes as he said this, but he felt the blood of Jesus washing away all the anger and hate that he had carried in his heart.
When I heard the report, I did not doubt it, but rejoiced that the Lord had heard and answered my prayer.
God did everything that He could to let me know that my son was with Him, and I thank Him for that.
A few days after my son's death I was in prayer when I saw a vision. I saw a person, but more than anything I saw His hands. They were gently carrying the most beautiful and delicate box made of fine china. They were moving across the room to a shelf. They were moving ever so slowly as they carefully protected the little box they carried. It was almost as if the person walked on His tiptoes as He walked ever so gently. Finally He reached the shelf and carefully set His treasure in a safe place.
Then a voice so sweet and gentle spoke in my mind
"I didn't drop it, you thought that I would drop it, but I didn't"
I understood that the hands were the hands of Jesus, and that the little box was my son. Jesus was letting me know in yet another way that my son was safely with Him.
I am not a super human, there have been times of intense pain over the loss of my precious son. I know that he is with His God, and that helps ease the pain, but there are times when I miss him so much I can hardly breath. Time remained frozen in that moment of his death for at least 7 years. Even now, ten years later I wish I could see him agian. Touch him again, carry on a conversation with him and tell him once again how much I love him. The love is there, just waiting for the moment when I will have him back. He is always loved, always precious. But it helps so much to know that Jesus Christ is real. To know that what He did on the cross of Calvary, has guarnateed my future with Him and with my son.
"Where oh death is your victory? Where oh death is your sting?"
1 Corinthians 15:55
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