This last weekend was a difficult one. On Thursday, I had made prior arrangements with his mother to pick up my grandchild for visitation for the court-appointed weekend, and everything seemed to be fine. When I showed up Friday the plans had changed. I couldn’t get him unless I could promise her the child would follow her plan for the weekend. I told her as much as what I knew would happen, but that I didn’t know everything his father had planned. But the child would be safe, and I would see he had a good time and have visits with our side of the family. That wasn’t good enough. Other people got involved and I found myself getting verbally assaulted (and demanded I leave without the child). The police showed up and the divorce papers were brought out. At this point I was allowed to leave with the child, but the stipulation from the deputy was that I meet the mother at the police station for the transfer on the child’s return from the weekend. I was very willing to do this, as I had been about drained emotionally with all the confrontation. I had been trying to find a solution other than their driveway for pick up and drop off.
I was afraid to take my husband with me for he has a license to carry a handgun, and I was afraid he would do something crazy. That would have been too much. I had stood there in their yard shaking and silently crying out for God to work the situation out. The visitations have been so full of conflict the boy’s father refuses to come anymore. He has been threatened several times by an ex-con that lives there that he will kill him and bury him if he doesn’t do what they want. I am not afraid, but I loath the confrontations over stupid things. Why can’t everyone be civil for the boy’s sake? It is one big control issue. I have volunteered to pick up the child and bring him to his father, and that infuriated the ex-wife.
Why am I writing these things that seem so private? I have been praying about sharing the things that are going on in my life. I had about decided to not blog anymore when it involved such sensitive things. But my good friend told me I needed to reconsider, because it might help others going through the same things. So I have decided to be more open. If it doesn’t work out, I will stop.
Anyway, about the weekend, we drove to the child’s grandparent’s house about 90 miles away. We had a great time, and the child really held onto his grandpa, who is an excellent role model. He wanted to copy everything his Peepaw did. I was still emotionally fragile and appreciated the help.
On the way home something happened that showed how much the Lord was watching over me/us. About halfway home I heard several rattles or knocks. Just small stuff. I grew worried and started checking all my gauges. I was almost out of gas. There was a station several hundred feet in front on me, and I filled up. Now my car doesn’t rattle and knock when it’s getting low on gas, or hasn’t ever done so in the past. The realization came to me that if I hadn’t stopped at that station I would have run out of gas, and would have been stranded on the side of the road. I was too exhausted to have walked anywhere with a small child, and I would have missed the time to exchange the child at the police station. That would not have been good.
The Lord took care of me.