On a peaceful Sunday afternoon in March 2014, my wife, Cindy, and I received a call. I might have been watching Sunday afternoon sports; I don’t remember. Cindy, who was upstairs, answered the phone. Within moments, our house turned from calm to chaos. This is the story of how God anchored my family through a severe storm.
I heard crying. My younger daughter, Faith, came running down the stairs and handed me the phone, saying there had been an accident, that Sarah was under the bus, that the bus was on top of her. I sent Faith back upstairs to be with her mother.
“Hello,” I said into the phone. The man on the other end of the line, with a strong Spanish accent, was frantically yelling that he needed car jacks. His bus had been in an accident, he was saying, and Sarah was under the bus. I’m not sure if he even knew I was on the phone. There was a lot of chaos, the phone signal was weak, and then within a minute the phone went dead.