It was the day after being struck by a truck that landed me
in the hospital and our daughter in heaven. Richard had summoned our boys home on
Saturday, but getting them home was a larger task than requesting most
20-something year-olds home.

All four children have been out of the country, and most of
them have traveled there without us. Whether it was for pleasure, a mission
trip, or to visit friends, crossing country boundaries means experiencing different
people, food, and landscapes that make them unique. It was not rare to have us
all scattered to different places, and this weekend was no different.
James, stationed in Guam at the time, was the first to be
called. With a 15-hour head start on the day, it was almost midnight on
Saturday there when he learned Sophia had passed away. Matthew had tickets to
the Atlanta United game that day and had spent the night with friends in Gainesville when he got the call. But Richard could not reach Daniel. He had
traveled to Italy to celebrate with his best friend Logan who just finished his
master’s degree. On that day, they had rented a car to drive into Croatia to
conquer yet another country. Finally, through friends and relatives of Logan,
on the roadside in Croatia, Daniel heard the heartbreaking news for the first
time.
Matthew made it back to Tifton on Saturday afternoon while I
was still in the ER, but it took both James and Daniel over 24 hours travel
time to make it to Georgia. As God would orchestrate it, their planes landed 15
minutes apart and just a gate away from each other. I can only imagine the
lonely plane ride for both of them as they tried to process the events of the
prior day, and I am certain the embrace in the terminal was full of emotion.
Friends picked them up from the Atlanta airport and brought
them to Tifton, arriving Sunday afternoon. The reunion of these amazing four
men in my life: Richard, my husband of 28 years, James, Daniel and Matthew, was
captured from my hospital floor. My best friend Suzanne caught the huddle where
Richard briefed them on my condition, tears were shed, and prayers lifted up.
Richard has a saying that he has preached in our home and
lived out through the years: “Peer pressure is only as strong as family
identity is weak.” This principle has aided in keeping our children from going down
a path filled with many regrets. They are surely not perfect, but neither are
their parents, so perfection is not what we were ever striving for in raising
them. We always wanted them to know they had a home full of unconditional love,
fierce discipline, and much forgiveness.
Our early years of raising them consisted of, “We don’t
behave that way; we are Fishers.” Or when prompted to do the right thing, “We
are Fishers; we act this way.” The main
theme: We’re Fishers.
The hospital hall was cleared on the second floor so the men
in my life could come directly to my room before seeing others. We spent time
together and shed more tears before they headed out to the hallway to see
friends and family.
Our close friend Patrick hugged Daniel’s neck and sincerely asked
how we were all doing. Daniel spoke with confidence as he told Patrick, “We’re
Fishers; we’re going to be okay.” Daniel was not being arrogant or nonchalant;
he just was certain of his foundation of who he is and what it really means to
be a Fisher.
“But you are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy
nation, a people belonging to God,
that you may declare the praise of him who called you out of the darkness into
his wonderful light.” I Peter 2:9
All four of our children have chosen to identify and become
followers of Christ. Their identity is strong in God and in our family. The foundation
in both of these groups has made them who they are and continue to direct
their paths daily.
The valley we continue to walk through is dry and filled
with stifling dust, which sometimes makes it even hard to breathe. However,
we know we are going to be okay, because after all, we are followers of Christ….and
we’re Fishers.