|
|
|
|
|
Or if you desire a longer session in private surroundings they are available for a fee based session by appointment, feel free to call and arrange a time / place for their services. |
God in the Wreckage By Karen Baklouti The Hamsa, or Hand of God, is revered as a protective symbol by many cultures across the Middle East and North Africa. When hung in a house, the hamsa is an everpresent reminder that God is everywhere, and that He holds each and every one of us in the palm of His hand. What a nice Friday afternoon this was going to be. My husband, Sami, had Veterans Day off work, and I was home early. We were heading home with our DVD rentals and the most difficult decision in front of me was whether to watch “Kung Fu Hustle” or “Monster in Law” first. Sami was in the passenger seat finishing a sub sandwich he bought at the little shop next to the video store. Then the light turned green and I headed through the intersection. Sami murmured, “What’s he doing?” and out of the corner of my eye I saw a truck coming at us fast. I veered toward the next lane, but the truck hit the back of our SUV. My immediate thought was, “Damn, what a headache. A fender-bender.” But…why were the windows shattering? Why were we spinning in slow motion? Were we turning over? Where am I? I’m covered in glass. Someone is shouting through the hole where our windshield used to be, “Turn off your car! Take your keys out!” Okay, how weird…I’m sideways, hanging in my seat belt. Where is Sami? I look to my right, which is now down, and see his body partway out of the passenger window. The top of the car is partly crunched and Sami’s head is pinned between it and the asphalt. “Are you okay?” I ask him anxiously. He doesn’t answer. I ask again, and hear him mumble slowly…“I am okay.” He doesn’t sound like it. Things like this just don’t happen to me! Now sirens are blaring, and almost instantly there are firemen sticking their heads in and asking our names. I think I’m fine. I don’t feel pain or any wet blood. But what does my husband’s head look like? Here’s the moment. I can choose to be afraid, but why? I’ve attended Religious Science churches for most of my life. I know God is here. I ask Sami to squeeze my hand…nothing. I keep asking him to tell me he’s okay, but he’s barely mumbling. I ask him if he wants to pray with me. No response. Then, I see God all around me. Hanging from my keychain is a “hamsa”, the Hand of God symbol given me by my Tunisian mother-in-law. I look around at our scattered belongings. There they are…there must be four or five of them: the business cards that carry Reverend Jim’s Sunday messages. I stick them everywhere. The ones in the car are now sprinkled like little white gems through the chaos and broken glass of our car! As they started sawing our car apart to get my husband out safely, one of the firemen cupped Sami’s head in his hands. Another put his head next to Sami’s so he can signal if the bending metal is crushing my husband’s head. Finally, we’re out and being loaded into the ambulance. Just as we left for the hospital my best friend, Marsha, called my cell phone. She is taking SOM I, so I asked her to treat for us. She also called Alice Nutter, who mobilized the entire practitioner team to pray for our wellbeing. What a blessing. A month later, we’re okay. Miraculous, in fact. With a little neck
therapy, we’ll both be good as new. There are still some issues to
resolve. Insurance. Car shopping. Fitting crisis management into my
workday. These are merely lessons in patience. But I have learned the
larger lesson of Faith: God IS everywhere. He’s on my keychain, in the
firemen and practitioners, and shining through every one of those DCRS
message cards! |
