In the Back of the Truck
Being a widow with teenaged boys was harder than I'd expected. My sons resented the fact that I was in charge. Sometimes I did, too.Late one afternoon, one of my sons announced that he was going to a party he knew I'd disapprove of. I told him that he couldn't go. "I'm going anyway," Jon said defiantly. I was so tired of arguing--and then I remembered God's promise to be a husband to widows. I silently asked Him for help and thought I understood the instructins that crept into my heart. I rushed to the front porch, waved happily at my son and called out, "I'm putting some angels in the back of your truck, Jon!"
He leaned out the window. "Can you do that?" he asked with sarcasm, but I walked back to the kitchen and enjoyed the delicious flavor of NOT being in charge. God was up to something! Jon returned home shortly and stood in the kitchen watching me cook. Finally, he said, "I decided not to go to the party. What's for supper?"
I refrained from doing joyful cartwheels across the kitchen. After a pleasant supper, Jon said, half serious, half smiling, "Mother, I'm probably the only boy in Georgia with angels in the back of his truck. Would you . . . could you arrange for them to leave now?" His eye contact was good, his voice gentle.
"Certainly," I replied, smiling. I took off my apron and walked out to the porch, as though I dispatched angels on a daily routine. Jon followed. I waved toward the truck. "Thank you all very much. That's all for now. Bye."
--Marion Bond West
taken from Angels Among Us