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The Mercy of God by--Jewell Carter 
The song " Our God is an Awesome God" should also read "Our God is a Merciful God". This is the story of my son, and his short life of 18 years, his death, and God's Almighty mercy to me, his Mother, during his life and after his death. I hope I can impart to the reader the fullness of God's Mercy during this time, and leave you with the hope and understanding that God is loving and caring to all of you in all things, even the deaths of loved ones.When my son Michael (Mike) was born in 1958, my husband and I were already separated and were divorced soon after. I had 2 daughters and my son, Mike. We received no child support - in those days the government did not help with collecting child support. I soon learned welfare was not for us, though I am grateful for the year or so of help I received. With God's help, I obtained a good job in 1961 with the nearby Army Depot, which became my career. Opportunities for promotion abounded at that time. So, even without support, I was able to care for my family financially. Sad to say, I was not able to spend quality time with them. But we said our nightly prayers and I took them to Mass on Sundays and Wednesday nights. And I taught them as much as I could about the Church. Also, they were able to attend Catholic grade school, which helped quite a lot to supplement their religious education. Mike had always had a slight tendency to hesitate when talking. When he was about 10 years old, his dad came down from Ohio to see his kids. He heard Mike hesitate while trying to tell him something and jumped onto him about it, saying: �Boy, what are you stuttering about!� A few days later, his teacher called me asking what on earth had she had done to the boy, his hesitancy in speech had developed into a full-blown stutter that he never overcame in his lifetime. You could hardly understand anything he was trying to tell you. Even with speech therapy, it improved only slightly. But he was an Altar Boy, a Boy Scout, and an all-round good boy until his 12th summer when I scraped up the money to send him to Boy Scout Camp for 2 weeks. He returned from camp a changed boy - no longer would he go to Church with us. He quit Boy Scouts would no longer serve on the altar. He also began to associate with less than desirables. He was eventually kicked out of Jr. High School in the 8th grade. This was a very trying and puzzling time for me. When he returned from camp, he told me that he had tried to run away, but a friend convinced him to stay. He would not tell me why. Later, a very good friend told me that a scandal had developed with the scout leader and the troop that Mike belonged to. It had come to light that the leader was an active homosexual and that children in the troop were being sexually abused. That is how I learned that while at camp, Mike was forced into homosexual acts by other troop members. My son called a few moments after my friend hung up for some reason, I told him what I had learned and asked him if this was what happened at camp. His pained answer: �And Mama, they were Catholics, too!� still echoes in my mind. He always begged for a motorcycle from age 13 on. Finally when he was 15 years old, I broke down and bought him a small �165 Harley�. Within 6 months he had an accident that broke his right leg in 3 places. He was in traction in the hospital for 6 weeks, in a body cast for 6 more weeks, and on crutches for a time after. When he was finally walking again, we learned his right leg was approx 2 inches shorter than the other leg. The leg stopped growing when broken, and only resumed growing after healing. So he had a severe limp, and totally refused to wear the built-up shoes the doctor prescribed. The accident was not his fault, he had the right-of-way but a classmate failed to yield and drove out of a side street in front of him, so his cycle hit her car head-on and threw him for some distance. Thankfully, he was wearing his helmet. As a result of the accident, there was an insurance settlement that paid his bills, plus some money for his pains. I paid bills with some of it, and placed the rest into a trust when he came of age. (The settlement was pitifully small compared to settlements received today). After this he became more and more difficult to handle - got involved with a small cult in this area and with some drugs and alcohol. I finally managed to get him away from the cult with the help of the law. But he was in more and more trouble, not criminally involved, but just giving me problems and associating with the wrong sort. The thing is - he did not feel accepted by the �so-called� right kids at our Church and school, so he associated with those who would accept him as he was, stutter, limp and all. So I sent him to his Dad�s in Ohio hoping to break the association, but a month or two later I received a call from the town Sheriff in Ohio. He advised that Mike was roaming around the town all hours of the night with no supervision, and his Dad was drunk in the bars. The Sheriff asked for permission to put him into a foster home - which I readily gave. I almost lost my son completely due to this action. I waited until school was out, started trying to get him home, only to find that the Ohio child welfare system would not reveal his whereabouts to me. Only the fact that I remembered a name from the one phone call my Son made to me after he was placed in the home, and a very helpful telephone operator who searched phone records and found the home he was in, helped me find him. That was one time Mike was really glad to hear from his mom! But after he returned home, he returned to the old ways and associations. I sought help to get him into a school for the handicapped, and finally got him to Hot Springs where they trained him in small motors rebuild. At this school, he associated with severely handicapped people: no legs, no arms, paralytics, etc. One weekend trip to home he said �Mom, I just thought I was handicapped until I met them! I am not handicapped at all!� I learned the school had one problem with Mike - all the other handicapped kids would meet in his room to party and have fun, guess it got pretty rowdy. I learned, too, that Mike was a barrel of fun around his friends. After he returned home from this school, Mike began begging for a car. After he turned 18 years old, I finally gave in, made arrangements for him to draw his $2,000 from the trust fund. So he bought a used car (I can�t remember make and model). Strangely, the car looked a gray color to me and I always felt badly about that car. One day an Aunt told me �Jewell, that car is green, not gray!� So I walked outside and looked, and it really was green. So on December 18th, 1976 at about 3:00 in the morning, I awoke to a policeman knocking on the door. My son had just been killed in an automobile accident. I learned later that he was drag-racing on a country road with another car, both approached a bridge at the same time (2 lane highway) at very high speeds. The other car made it, his didn�t. He hit the bridge railing and was killed instantly. His passenger escaped with a crushed jaw. The policemen took me to my older daughter and son-in-law�s home just a few blocks away. I paced the floor the rest of the night, and kept calling out �Oh God, if I could only know his soul was saved!!� I learned later that my daughter knelt and begged God to take all the merits she had earned in her lifetime and give them to Mike. I believe her prayer was instrumental in what happened later. Of course the next day was devoted to phone calls, funeral arrangements, friends coming by. So many kids called wanting to talk to Mike, only to be told he had died in a car wreck. So much sorrow and heartache! I told the Pastor that I knew people would think Mike went to Hell, and his reply: �It is a good thing that God is our judge, and not our neighbor�, has been a consolation not only to me but also to other friends of mine. I remember the pain of loss was so crushing that I thought I would never feel bodily pain again. Early the next morning I received a phone call from my Aunt, who lived in my town. She said she had dreamed of Mike. He was jumping up and down for joy and saying: �Don�t cry! Please don�t cry! I�m happy, please don�t cry!� Now, my Aunt Gladys would say anything if she thought it would make someone feel better, so I dismissed it as being one of her fantasies. Within the hour I had a call from my Mother from Mesa, AZ. She said she had a vision of Mike. He was jumping up and down for joy and saying: �Don�t cry! Please don�t cry! I�m happy, please don�t cry!� I accused Mother of talking with Aunt Gladys, and she said: �No, I called you first.� It took a while for it to sink in, but I finally realized this was God�s answer to my prayer and He had let me know my son is safe with Him. God was so good to me! For over a period of the next year, I received some of the sweetest feelings of love and consolation - it felt as if a presence was wrapping me in a cloak of love, the sweet feeling of love that I have never felt since. Within 3 weeks of his death, while riding to work (I shared a ride with others), I was thinking of Mike, and I surely felt him brush my cheek with a kiss. Another time, I was sitting on the couch thinking of Mike, and felt my spirit leave my body and be whisked far off very rapidly. It felt as if the weight of the world was taken off my shoulders. Such a light and wonderful feeling! I also saw something beautiful, but have since lost the memory of what it was. A second later, I was back in my own body and thinking that I would die soon. I now know God just gave me an inkling of the joy and heavenliness that my Son is enjoying. A week before Mike died, he came to me on a Saturday and asked to go to Church with me the next morning. I looked at him in amazement and uttered some sound of surprise. Mike looked heavenward and said �I made a promise, Mom, and I think I better keep it.� And he went to Mass with me. I still grieve for my son, and it has been almost 21 years - of course time has healed much of it. I know my grief is a selfish grief. I also feel that God took my son to Him when He knew his soul could be saved. I know that God is a wonderful and caring God, and that He is far more merciful than people give Him credit for being. And I know He is more merciful and understanding toward our youth than we believe Him to be. If a reader has lost a child or should you lose a child, I hope my story will give you some consolation, hope and understanding of God�s mercy. Never stop praying for your children, no matter how hopeless it all seems. And watch for the consolations that God sends. Some are very subtle and you have to be ready to give God credit for the consolation. Jewell �Copyright2001 Jewell Carter All rights reserved. |
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