My Brett has beautiful skin and from the time he was little I liked the healthy glow he'd get from the sun. It made his sightless, gorgeous blue eyes stand out more than ever. I loved taking him on walks, letting him get a healthy dose of vitamin D and a touch of color too.

One sunny day I suggested Dane ride his bike up to the ice cream shop and Brett and I would meet him up there.

I passed a woman on the sidewalk. She looked closely at Brett. "The sun sure is bright today."

"It's beautiful," I agreed and continued on my way.

As I approached the door to the ice cream shop, a police car came screeching up and stopped at an angle. A police officer jumped out.

A patron was holding the door for me, "Looks like somebody's in trouble."

"I guess so!" I agreed.

"Ma'am?"Heavens! Was he talking to me?? My heart lurched. Please God don't let anything have happened to Dane.

"Ma'am, I need to have a few words with you." He approached me, "Is your baby wearing sunscreen?" He was accusatory, not friendly.

"Yes, he is." I foolishly held up the bottle of sunscreen as "evidence." The truth was I only had the sunscreen with me because I let him get 20 minutes of unfiltered sun before I applied it.

The officer wasn't impressed. "Why don't you have the canopy over the stroller, so at least the sun isn't in his eyes?"

"Well, he's blind." What a stupid, stupid thing to say. Was I looking for sympathy?

"All the more reason to have the canopy up!"

He came closer, inspecting Brett from head to toe. Apparently satisfied he wasn't burnt, he got back in his squad car and drove away.

I was devastated. Mortified. Humiliated. I barely made it around the corner of the building before I fell to the curb and sobbed my heart out. Huge, gut-wrenching sobs. I think I sobbed harder then than I did when Brett's team of doctors told us he'd never respond to us.

Somehow Dane found me. Alarmed, he jumped off his bike and sat beside me on the curb. He could barely make out what I was saying. He patted my back, "It's okay. You're a good mom."

He hit on the crux of it. I didn't feel like a good mom. It hurt that the officer and bystanders thought I was neglectful, possibly even abusive. I looked at my sweet, oblivious Brett. His skin was flushed. Maybe I had burnt him. My poor baby! As if he didn't have enough troubles! I bet I sat there sobbing for a good half hour before finally getting up and walking home.

As I walked, I became angry. How dare that officer speak to me that way, humiliate me like that!

Bob called the station to complain and the officer told him he'd call and apologize. Bob asked me to be respectful, we sure didn't want to be black balled by the local police department.

The officer did call and explained they had to follow up on complaints, but he was sorry I responded the way I did. That's an apology???

"You could have handled it better. Why squeal up there like I was a dangerous felon? And what would you have done if he wasn't wearing sunscreen?"

"If my touch would have left a white mark on his skin, I would have reported you to protective services."

Angry indignation made my voice louder than I intended, "I suggest you forget trying to stop crime and save lives, instead, why don't you station officers at local pools? I'm sure they'd find plenty of sunburnt children to keep them busy."

Then I hung up on him. I wasn't respectful and I felt just as guilty and heartsick as ever. All because of my stupid pride. All because I wanted Brett to look as healthy and normal as possible. All because some lady found me unworthy enough to sic the police on me.

Thankfully, as flawed as I am, Christ ensured my worthiness in God's eyes, and His eyes are the only ones that ultimately matter, "For these light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all." (2 Cor, 4:17). Amen to that!




A couple of side notes:
I have an enormous amount of honor and respect for police officers. They risk their lives every day to keep us safe and the climate in this country is making their job more dangerous than ever. I am extremely grateful for their service.
If I wasn't so tech-illiterate I could figure out how to attach an old picture of my sun-kissed baby Brett showing off his bright blue eyes. Maybe if I change my cover photo it'll work. We'll see.

I noted last week that one of the greatest perks of working for an airline is flying for free, but  flexibility and patience are a must because things happen.

Though non-revving to and from Florida over Spring Break is nigh on impossible, Tammy and her family manage to make it work. They split up, they sit on jumpseats, they take circuitous routes...whatever it takes, they get there.

At vacation's end, it is just Tammy and her son Spence hoping for a seat on the first flight back to Detroit. They aren't feeling hopeful. Every flight is overbooked. There is a good chance they will be spending a long, futile day at the airport, before trying again the next morning. All they can do is wait patiently in the gate area and pray for a miracle.

The harried gate agents are busy loading and unloading one overbooked flight after another when they get word a crew member has become sick. Without the FAA required minimum crew, the flight can't go out. Talk about a nightmare! I'm sure those poor agents were bracing themselves for the raging lunatics who simply cannot accept that things happen.

Tammy is sitting in the gate area oblivious to the calamitous situation brewing at the podium when she gets a call from crew scheduling:

Would there be ANY possibility she'd be willing to work the flight to Detroit? 
Of course she would! But she was traveling with her son, would they be able to ensure a seat for him? 
To avoid stranding 200 people? A no-brainer! Of course they'd get him a seat!!

Tammy boarded the airplane to brief with the crew, while her son waited in the gate area to board with the rest of the passengers.

He told her later the agent made an announcement explaining a crew member had become sick and if not for a vacationing flight attendant willing to work they would have had to cancel the flight. She wasn't in uniform (obviously), but not to worry, she was fully trained and qualified.

Many passengers expressed their gratitude to Tammy. After the service, a woman came back to the galley and personally thanked her; her mother was in hospice and if the flight had cancelled she would have missed the chance to say good-bye to her.

Back in the galley, Tammy shared the story of her friend Cindy, a fellow flight attendant in dire circumstances due to an unexpected illness. One of the flight attendants was so touched she grabbed her wallet and gave Tammy a hundred dollars to give to her.

When they landed, Tammy called Cindy to tell her she'd be leaving money in her mailbox and Cindy burst into tears because that very day she'd received notice that her electricity would be turned off unless she came up with a hundred dollars.

I love stories like this, such clear evidence of God working behind the scenes. He used Tammy's availability and sweetness to answer prayers that day, including her own prayers that she and Spence might get on that flight. Gotta love it!