Changes Were Taking Place

From the time I was around twelve, I started to swear. My Dad cursed all the time. I never thought much of it. His way of talking was just a part of who he was. Somehow, I picked up on his way of communicating when I was relatively young. Quite frankly, I didn't care if my choice of words bothered people. If they didn't like it, they could stay away from me was my attitude. As I got older, I wanted to change, but it had become such a habit, I didn't seem to be able to.

Now, something strange was happening. Every time I started to use a cuss word, it seemed to get stuck in my throat for some reason. I couldn't believe it! All those years of trying to stop cussing seemed to be taken care of. I want to say that I never used a cuss word again, but that would not be true. Over the years, I have cussed any number of times, but for the most part, my everyday cussing stopped. I was wondering what God had up His sleeve for me. It was pretty obvious I was going to need to control my cussing from doing it.

One day not too long after this, Bill asked if I had noticed an ad in the newspaper. Of course, I hadn't, as I didn't read the paper. When Bill finished, I just threw it away. I asked Bill what the ad was about, and he said, "Oh, some organization is looking for positive people to be boosters for area kids. I thought you might like to answer the ad." I couldn't believe Bill was suggesting this. My first thoughts were, "What, are you kidding me? Todd just died a few months ago. Why would I want to answer such an ad."

Since Bill suggesting this was so not like him, I thought, "Hum, maybe this is the Lord." I dug the newspaper out of the trash and looked for the ad.

Other changes were taking place too. Around six months after Todd's death, my younger son Brandon (then three) began stuttering. You see, Brandon and I went for a walk each night, and about this time, we saw a dead, decaying bird lying on the side of the road. Brandon referred to the bird as being "dead, just like Todd." He spoke of Todd often, and many people suggested that he needed professional help to deal with Todd's death. I took the problem right to the Lord.

As I prayed about Brandon's problem, it seemed that the Lord was telling me to bury the bird. But I argued against this. After all, I did not wish to bury every dead animal we might see; I did not even want to touch this one!

Finally, I gave in. We scooped up the bird in a bucket and brought it home. We dug a hole in the yard, and we talked. I told Brandon to shake the bird and call it; I did the same. I then said to him that only Jesus could wake the little bird. I quoted the Bible and told him that one day Jesus would come back and call with a loud voice, and all who loved Him would come alive again. I said we would see Todd the minute Jesus woke him.

The next morning when Brandon woke up, he did not stutter, and he has not stuttered since that date--the six-month anniversary of Todd's death. A miracle? Yes, I believe it was, and even though the idea to bury the bird seemed ridiculous to me, it had been the answer to my prayers.