I Believe in Angels ... and Prayer
by: Libby Branton

Saturday Ramblins, Vol. 1, No. 6 (June 20, 1998)

My youngest son, Brian, was beaten, robbed and shot two years ago yesterday, about 1:00 a.m. as he delivered a pizza in the city where we live. He came home about 11:15 p.m., laughing as he changed his shirt between jobs. He looked forward to the evening ahead.

I had gone to bed about 12:15 and, as always, spent time in prayer before sleeping. I awoke at 1:00 a.m. - still praying for my family. As I was drifting back to sleep the phone rang. Within ten minutes I was dressed and following the ambulance to a local hospital. We arrived at 1:45 a.m.

I watched silently as the trauma team gently cleaned the blood from Brian and looked him over, assessing the extent of his injuries. Fully conscious the whole time, Brian repeated these questions over and over - "What happened, where's my truck, did they take anything, … ." We took turns answering.

Because he had no short-term memory and extensive injuries to his mouth, the doctor ordered x-rays of his head, where he feared a bullet was lodged. They also x-rayed his left leg, which had taken a gunshot — fortunately there were clear entrance and exit wounds here.

The head x-rays were clear and a CT scan was normal, so the doctors determined that the memory loss was from shock and concussion.

Brian's store manager and supervisor waited with me in the emergency area. The police came and went, eventually taking Brian's shoes, socks, shirt and pants which, along with his truck, would be inspected for evidence.

Because of the concussion, Brian was kept for observation and we were moved to a hospital room about 6:30 a.m. I called a friend at 7:00 asking her to call the church for prayer. My friend told me that radio stations had reported the incident and released Brian's name. I started calling family and friends, letting them know that Brian would be okay. It was hard to remember names and phone numbers during a traumatic time, with so little sleep — we did the best we could.

Throughout the day we had visits and phone calls from many friends: church representatives, office colleagues, Brian's co-workers and friends, my sorority sisters and other friends and family members. God sent each person at just the right time, keeping our minds occupied through that first day.

I know without a doubt that God's hand was on all of this and that Brian was kept from more serious injury because of all the prayers that were sent heavenward by family, friends and church members. Throughout the whole ordeal, I felt the presence of God and never doubted that everything would be all right.

I know in my heart that Brian's guardian angel was certainly keeping watch over him in those predawn hours. Now and he is alive and well, thanks to a loving heavenly Father and the angels He sent to guard my son.

Brian still has no memory of what happened that morning.

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