How dare you?

Look closely. In the bottom left corner, is an empty carseat. In the upper left corner are first responders, combing the hillside in the middle of a chilly winter night for a child we all believed had occupied that seat, before her drunk mother rolled their car at 2:00 AM.

There were a dozen or so cops, firemen and EMT’s alike. All of them in pure panick mode, nearly sick with the thought of actually being the unlucky one to find what we were looking for. Each of us, trying to, at the same time, prepare and process our mind for what was going on. Personally, there were no words to describe my emotions and thoughts as I wandered the sage brush desperately looking for my worst fear, some lifeless dead kid.

And just like that it was over. That was it. It ended like it started. There was no dead baby laying in the weeds. There was no rush of paramedics attempting to revive a little kid, the victim of a drunk parent. There was no cop holding his head low, knowing this was not going to end well. The little girl had been at a friends house, sleeping soundly.

Anger. Now it was just anger. How dare that woman do that to me. It wasn’t that I had to jump out of bed, from a dead sleep to a dead sprint in only a few moments. It wasn’t that she got completely wasted and rolled her car. It wasn’t the complete waste of time this whole thing turned out to be. It was that she was so drunk she couldn’t remember if her daughter was in the car with her. It was the gut wrenching feeling I got when I landed on the scene of this accident, took one step away from the helicopter and the first thing I see is an empty car seat. No amount of experience could prepare me for a moment like that.

When the dust had settled, and we transported the driver (the mom) to the hospital, and the adrenaline had fully worn off, I felt exhausted. Physically, emotionally, mentally and spiritually wasted. I reflected on it for the next few hours, while we prepared the helicopter for the next call, and completed the paperwork for this one. It hit me. Like a literal slap to the face, there is someone who understands this. There is someone who has had these exact same feelings. There is someone who can take away the pain.

Jesus Christ.

Only in and through the Atonement of Jesus Christ can our worst fears, most traumatic experiences and angry feelings be remedied. It is only because of Him that I can be made whole.

Christ, the master healer will make all of the wrongs, right. He will make all of the pain go away. He will heal you if you will let him, and I am living proof of that.

I had a small conversation with family at dinner tonight, and my brother in law mentioned it surprises him I haven’t needed therapy for some of the things I see. What he maybe didn’t realize is I do need therapy, in fact I am in therapy. I have a personal counselor, who can make all the bad go away. He is my best friend, and my oldest brother. I get this therapy by fully embracing the gospel of Jesus Christ, for which I am eternally grateful for. I testify of it’s authenticity, and ability to heal, even the worst of things. #givethanks, even when it’s hard.

*Originally written November 20, 2001.

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