Monday, September 17, 2012

Answered Prayers

When our kids were preschool age and beyond I took them on field trips.
Lots and lots of field trips.
It's the part of homeschooling that I'm really good at.
I can not even remember how many times I've been to the fire station.
I think I've been to 3 different ones over the years, and some more than once.
Most little boys LOVE the fire station and the cool truck and putting on the fireman's gear.
But not little Dubs.
It scared him to death and I think we may have scarred him for life.
His first trip there he was maybe 2 years old.
It put the thought into his wee little head that things catch on fire, buildings catch on fire, homes catch on fire.
Then the though occurred to him that we have a home.
Every since that very first trip to the fire station he has prayed every single night that our house would not catch on fire.
I'm not exaggerating, I'm talking every. single. night. without. fail.
We put the fear into him, what can I say?
But maybe that turned out to be a good thing. 
Rewind almost 20 years.
Mr Bird turned 16 years old and his father gifted him with a very nice (at the time) stereo receiver.
That thing was like the energizer bunny, it kept going and going and going.
And we always found good use for it.
We would plug our ipods and iphone into it and listen to music and books on tape for hours while we scrubbed floors and did dishes and made dinners,
or while we danced around the house with it cranked like lunatics.
Until last week when it finally bit the dust.
Let's just say it left our lives with a bang.
It was Friday night, date night.
As soon as Mr Bird got home from work I jumped in the car to get our baby sitter.
I was gone maybe 20 minutes.
When I finally pulled  into the drive way I was greeted with Doodle streaking out of the house at full speed with M&M in her arms.
"The house is on fire!"
She was headed for our family's designated fire safety spot in the front yard by the crab apple tree.
Before I can register what she is saying, Beano and Little Man streak past me with yelps and hollers.
They, too, were headed for the tree.
Not quite sure what was going on and seeing no smoke I head into the open garage.
(Maybe not the best choice)
Just then Mr Bird came out of the door holding that ever so loved and used receiver way out away from his body and walking  like a zombie.
He just started laughing his nervous I-can't believe-that-just-happened laugh.
He must have seen the question in my eyes because he just started talking.
He had turned the receiver up way loud playing some crazy dance song from his iphone and he and the children were dancing through the house waiting for me to get home.
Then suddenly and without reason the music stopped.
Mr Bird walked over to the receiver to take a look and what do you think he saw?
Yup, you guessed it, Flames shooting out of the thing.
He quickly started pulling wires and cords and got everything unplugged.
The flames almost instantly died out.
He grabbed the thing and ran/zombie walked out of the house with it.
Needless to say, that was the end of the road for our beloved receiver.
Dubs, not missing a beat showed up at my side seconds later.
He wrapped his little arms around my waist and squeezed me like he had not seen me in a decade.
He looked up into my eyes with those gorgeous baby blues all open wide and said, "Mom, Heavenly Father answered our prayers! Our house did not catch on fire!"
How right he was. 
I don't know how many times we have turned that thing on and left the room to fold laundry or get on the computer or even go outside not realizing it's still on. 
Sometimes we'd play a record (yes, we still use vinyl from time to time) and the record would end and no one would notice so the record would just go round and round without any music playing at all, speakers and receiver still on full blast.
What if the seemingly harmless fire had happened when no one was watching?
I don't even want to imagine the different outcome we could have had.
But a little boy prayed, and God answered.
Just like that.
Want to know my favorite part of this story?
M&M's head bouncing along in Doodle's arms, her soft baby hair glowing in the evening light.
It means that Doodle would have saved her little sister even though I had not been there.
To a mom, there is no assurance better than to know they would have saved the baby.


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