The night my son, Pants was born, I grabbed a nurse and asked her to have a priest bless him. They were saying he's critical..they were saying they were taking him a hour away from me..they were saying all I had was hope.
The nurse came back to me to softly say a nun, Sister Judy baptized him and she handed me the tiny sea shell the Sister used. This brought me great comfort to hold on to as I laid, trapped, in a bed away from my miracle.
As the days and months past, the sleep deprivation and constant fear and frustration replaced that comfort I felt that first night holding my baby's first Spiritual moment.
One day, my mother-in-law (an old school devote Catholic) called me and informed me that she and her priest had talked and decided that my Pants was not properly baptized and I needed to have him baptized by her priest. After all, I wouldn't want him to go to Hell if he died.
It doesn't matter why she would say such a thing and I'm sure the priest didn't say that, but it was all I needed to become completely pissed at God..to turn my back on him.
What followed was more dark days and months..more fear and desperation.
Finally, one evening I found myself standing in my baby's hospital listening to a group of doctor's that I swear were just saying shit to see which one of them could finally make me snap. I got Pants settled and asleep and for the first time, I left him with a nurse. I drove to my mother's house. I took a shower and grabbed some clean clothes off of her and headed back to the hospital.
My little brother had recently sent me some CD's the mail and I looked down at them, grabbed one and put it in my car's stereo. There was a great pause and I noticed how dark and quiet the inside of my car was. And then suddenly Johnny Cash started to sing.
Oh, lord, help me walk Another mile, just one more mile; I'm tired of walkin' all alone.
And lord, help me to smile Another smile, just one more smile; Don't think I can do things on my own.
I never thought I needed help before; Thought that I could get by - by myself. But now I know I just can't take it any more. And with a humble heart, on bended knee, I'm beggin' You please for help
Oh come down from Your golden throne to me, to lowly me; I need to feel the touch of Your tender hand. Release the chains of darkness Let me see, Lord let me see; Just where I fit into your master plan.
I never thought I needed help before; Thought that I could get by - by myself. Now I know I just can't take it any more. And with a humble heart, on bended knee, I'm beggin' You please for help With a humble heart, on bended knee, I'm beggin' You please for help
His words were my thoughts that I have been needing to say.
I started to cry, not my usual cry in front of others where I tear up but quickly blink them away, but an all out cry. All of the anger, anguish and torment rushed out of me.
I drove for a hour listening to the song over and over again and I violently sobbed. By the time I pulled into my usual parking spot of the hospital, I was exhausted and empty..a hollow shell. I'm human so I held onto to some of the fear but when I reached my baby's bed to find him comfortably sleeping, I was filled with something I never before felt in my life...peace.
I still found myself struggling after this encounter, but it was different. A few months after this, I begged God for a miracle and I received one but that is a story that needs to be told at another time.
For now, I sit back with wicked delight that the Man In Black brought me back.
Thank you Mr. Cash
