Chapter 17- First stop ** Chapter 18-Atlanta ** Chapter 19-Where Did You Say?

 

Part 3 - After the Incident

 

Chapter 17

First stop

     After Matt left the courthouse, he was sent briefly to Cullman before the processing began to transition him to a federal prison.  He stayed there only a few days before he was transported to Calhoun County Jail in Anniston. We visited him there a few times and Jim went with us. Jim had been raised in Anniston and knew his way around town.

     Calhoun County was an older jail in the industrial part of town. The waiting room was small and the facility was not the cleanest we had visited. Many years later we would have a friend lose her son while in the custody of the Calhoun County Jail. Many questions about his death are still unanswered and may always be. We were lucky that Matt had spent enough time in Cullman County to overcome most of his drug dependence.

     His dad and I knew this would be a long process. From Anniston Matt would most likely be transported to Atlanta which served as a holding prison until assignments were made as to where prisoners would relocate. We had looked at the map from the Federal Board of Prisons and assumed that Matt would go to a medium facility based on his charges, the first offense, and what his lawyer had said. There were several within close proximity to our home. In fact, Talladega was a medium and not too far away. Our attorney informed us that Talladega had just recently had a problem with drugs being brought in to the prisoners so that might not be the best place for Matt.

     All we could do now is wait. We visited Calhoun County on visiting days but we never knew when Matt would be moved. He would simply call us collect when he changed locations. Talk about a stressful time! Just not knowing the future can be nerve wrecking, like sitting and waiting for the hands of the clock to move. As a mom, all I could do was pray for his safety. I prayed daily for a hedge of protection for my son. I knew the kind of people who were in prison and now my baby was one of them.

      I remember a conversation I had with Matt after this all came about. I was wondering what I could have done or did not do that might have prevented this situation. I asked him if maybe I had tried harder to keep him away from despicable characters if that might have made a difference. Maybe I was too tough or too lenient. Maybe I should have filtered his friends more closely. I had known all his childhood friends and their parents, but as he grew older, I did not know the new faces. Some came to see him but didn’t stay long enough for me to introduce myself. If I questioned their motive, he would convince me otherwise. I remember his response so clearly. He said, “Mom, I was probably the worst of the worst. The other parents wanted to keep their children away from me.”  Where had I been? I thought I was doing the best I could at parenting. I took him to church and taught him about Jesus.  He was always polite, made good grades, but he was living another life, an alternate culture that was destroying the child I knew and loved.

     And now, this mom was waiting to hear the name of the Federal Prison where her baby boy would spend the next seven years of his life. How could this be happening?

 

Chapter 18

Atlanta

       The phone call finally came. Collect from the Federal Prison in Atlanta. That is a call you never want to hear. It’s a simple recording that says “Hello. You have a collect call from _______, an inmate in a federal prison. To accept this call press 1.” The blank is filled in by a recording from the inmate. I guess they are prompted to say their name after a beep so the call is more personable.  It is so shocking to get that first call. I knew it would be a collect call, but I was not prepared for the federal prisoner part. It made the whole situation so real, as if I had been dreaming all along.

      Matt’s message was short and to the point. He was in Atlanta Federal prison, he would be processed and sent to his permanent location within 1-2 weeks. He would be locked in most of the time, kept away from the other prisoners, and we could not visit him there. We also could not send him any money on account or any personal items. Basically, he just had to wait. He was in a cell 23 out of 24 hours a day.

      All we could do was wait to hear from him when he was relocated. His dad and I started mapping all the medium facilities within a certain radius. Matt’s pre-trial probation officer had told us that the Federal Board of Prisons tried to keep the prisoner within 500 miles of home, so we located all the qualifying facilities within 500 miles. The website listed every prison, but some could be eliminated in our search because they only housed a certain population, like just women or maximum-security prisoners.

      From the map we determined we would probably be headed west to Mississippi or maybe Arkansas. Never in our wildest dreams could we have imagined our destination for the first visit with our son.

 

  Chapter 18

Where did you say?

     As a way to pass time and fill a need, I would check the Federal Board of Prisons daily. I’d do an inmate search.  I found out I could pull up Matt name on the website and it would tell me his location. It would not always be accurate but I had some idea when he was moved to Atlanta and then to his permanent location.

      We got the call on a Monday, I think. I had my cell phone at school and had already informed my coworkers that I would be taking a call anytime it came in. That meant, even in the middle of class. We had a plan in action in case I needed help with my students. My entire fifth grade team had been a blessing all through the arrest, the trial, and now prison. They supported me with prayer, words of encouragement and even meals when I needed them. We were a tight group who shared all our secrets with each other. I was so blessed to have had a great group of teachers as my friends during my difficult times. They were more like my sisters than coworkers. They were there for the deaths of my mother, grandmother, mother-in-law, and now stood beside me during my troubles with Matt. I have been truly blessed with God given friends who are never judgmental or condescending.

      The call came from a Federal Prison in Florida. Florida? Really? The closest prison in Florida was at least 350 miles from home. Could it be as far as Miami? After confirmation from Matt we were informed that he had been sent to the Federal Correctional Complex near Ocala, Florida….530 miles from home.

     The facility was actually Coleman Federal Correctional Institution II (FCI), a part of the Federal Correctional Complex (FCC) which is composed of several facilities within the complex. Coleman is a sprawling complex of penitentiary units with five sections: two high-security institutions, a low and medium-security facility and a camp for female inmates.  All institutions are operated by the Federal Bureau of Prisons (BOP), a division of the United States Department of Justice. We would learn that the facility is the flagship facility of the BOP, housing 1170 inmates in just FCI Coleman II alone. It is the largest facility within the BOP with a total inmate population of almost 6600, in other words, a small city in itself.  And my son was about to become a member of the notorious list of inmates who have served time at what I perceived as a modern-day Alcatraz.

      Matt would be assigned to FCI Coleman II, but it was still a federal penitentiary. His dad tried to convince me that FCI Coleman I housed the worse criminals, but he was telling that to a mother.  Anything with a fence, guards, and locked doors means trouble to a mom. According to Matt the only difference in Coleman I and Coleman II was the fact that Coleman I had gangs and gang activity.  All I could think of was the possibilities of what could happen in prison. It would be several weeks before we could visit Matt, but we were well on our way to full indoctrination with just the first phone call.

 

Chapter 16 The Sentencing

 

    During his time at our house, Matt had met numerous times with his attorney. Considering all the complications from the confession, his lawyer had tried desperately to come up with an adequate defense. What they didn’t know was that Matt had given a lot of details that were incorrect. I don’t know if it was intentional, from the subconscious, or maybe an effect of the anesthesia, but many of the details he described would prove to be untrue.

     Matt had told his attorney, Joe, that he had been forced to rob the pharmacies. He tried to convince Joe that there had been a man he owed money to that had come to the house and physically made him rob the pharmacies. Joe had acquired a private detective who had interviewed Matt and recorded his testimony. He started a search but could find nothing. It was determined that Matt had been lying and simply fabricated the story. Matt swore he was telling the truth, but addicts can be so convincing.

     Whether there really was a man or not, there was a stronger case that Matt had acted alone. He had previously worked at another branch of the pharmacy chain and an employee recognized him. He was even picked out of a group of pictures, a sort of lineup.

     Matt had told his attorney that the gun he had used was a BB gun that looked like an actual pistol. He described how he had come home and threw the gun into the woods surrounding the house. Once again, the detective searched the area with a metal detector but found nothing. Even if the gun had been found to be a toy, it still would be armed robbery. We learned from counsel that even a finger held in a pocket in a way to resemble a gun would still be considered a weapon. There was still a threat because the victims could not know if the firearm was real or not. Matt’s attorney thought the fact it was nor real might lessen his sentence some.

     So, Joe and I combed the area for evidence as well. Several days we searched the wooded area in front and in back of the house and even across the street. We held out hope in finding the toy gun, but we found nothing. We had thoroughly searched the house as well.

     There was no one living in the house after the home invasion and shooting, so the house remained vacant while Matt was in the hospital and then recuperating at our house. We kept the house locked but it was situated in a dark, deserted spot on several acres of property. The house could be seen better from the school parking lot than from the major road in front of the house. Within a week, someone had broken into the house and stolen the refrigerator, stove, microwave, and washer and dryer. In fact, they took anything that was able to be pawned or sold for cash. We assumed it was used for drug money.

      After the robbery we had searched every corner of the house searching for anything valuable that might have been overlooked. Several months after the sentencing and before the house was sold, the missing toy BB gun was found lying on the dining room table. No one could explain the strange reappearance of the weapon.  It would not have changed the charges or the conviction. The only purpose I could make for the gun appearing at that time was that the Lord wanted us to find it. Maybe so that we would know Matt had told some truths. I don’t know why but the gun was there that day.

     Matt was facing a stiff sentence but less time than the possible state charges would bring. It looked to be around 10 to 15 years, possibly twice that amount if convicted on two counts. In the federal system, sentencing is determined in months served, so Matt was looking at 120 to 180 months. Sentencing at the federal level is determined by a set of defined criteria, based on such things as prior criminal charges, severity of the crime, things that factor in to the equation. That is left up to the judge and the attorneys, but the process is pretty well spelled out.

     There are very few exceptions to receiving a lower sentence. However, once again, God provided a way for Matt to have a lesser sentence. It involved a possible disclosure that only Matt knew all the details and he agreed to speak to the FBI. Even his attorney had said there was no way it could happen, but by the grace of God it did.  Five years off his sentence!  Another miracle!

     So Matt was given a sentence that required him to serve 90 months. That day in court will be forever seared in my mind. As a mother I was not sure I could face the drama in the courtroom. I had not even been able to get out of the car that day back in January at the crime scene. How could I face seeing my son in this situation?

     Matt entered the courtroom in the orange jumpsuit bound in shackles and handcuffed. It tore at my mother’s heart like a hot branding iron had been placed on my chest. Tears welled up in my eyes but I was able to keep my composure. All around the country people were praying for Matt, the judge, our family, and all those involved with this case.  I felt every prayer at that moment. I remember the peace I had during the sentencing and afterwards…the Peace that passes all understanding. I actually felt as though the Holy Spirit had His arms around me, drying my tears from the inside and keeping me composed and calm.

     Matt’s two brothers were present that day. Joe had asked that they be there to witness some of the consequences for Matt’s behavior and actions. They had been hurt from all the stealing, arguing, and family drama that comes from dealing with an addict in the family. He wanted them to see the high price that Matt had to pay. It would be several years before his younger brother would even talk to Matt because of all the hurt and anger.

     After the judge read his verdict, he motioned for me to come forward. I was allowed to hug my baby for the first time in over 6 months. It felt good just to touch him and know that he was still living and breathing. It was extremely hard for me to breathe that day. I could only imagine what he was going through.

     Jim was also with us that day.  He was a good family friend who had also been Matt’s Youth Director at church. Jim had been faithful to visit Matt with us so it was no surprise that he agreed to go that day, too. Of all people, Jim knew the true heart of Matt from being with him through the years. He had also been through some rough times with Joe and me as we dealt with the frequent teenage problems. He had served in combat duty in Viet Nam, so I guess he thought our problems were minor in the big scheme of things.

      One year, Matt was scheduled to attend a youth retreat in Florida. Something had come up that made Joe and me question letting Matt attend. He had several friends who he had invited and really needed to be there. So, we agreed to let him go if I went along as well. Matt was not happy but we insisted. There was one minor problem: where would I sleep? Bless their sweet hearts, Jim and his wife let me bunk in their room with them. They shared a bed and I had the other one. With 15 or so teenagers there was not much time for sleeping, so all worked out for the good.

      Our minister was also there as the judge read his decision. We all gathered in the hallway after Matt left. Not much was said, just a few thanks for coming, a prayer and a gracious acknowledgement of the power of the almighty in the final terms of the judgement. His attorney was there to witness the lower sentence and now had to be reminded that he had said “no way.” Joe had just witnessed another of the miracles in Matt’s life. With the federal system time can be shortened for good behavior but never less than 85 % of the sentence. Matt was given credit for his time in Cullman, but he still had about seven years to go. Now began the long process of serving the 99 months.

 

Chapter 15 - Cullman County

 

     Matt was taken to the Jefferson County Jail but only for a short time. By the end of the week, he was processed and sent to the correctional facility in Cullman County. We learned that federal prisoners were not housed with the county prisoners. The feds had a contract to house their prisoners waiting trial so Matt was transported by van to the Cullman County Jail.

     The visiting times were different than Jefferson County, so every Wednesday evening Joe and I made our trip up I65 to visit our son. I usually met Joe in Kimberly and left my car so we could ride together. It was only about 45 minutes but the wait was always a surprise.  Sometimes we got right in and sometimes we waited for an hour or so.

    Matt was in Cullman the first Christmas away from home. We were not allowed to give him any gifts but he did ask the warden for one favor. Matt had been smoking when he left but he could not smoke in jail. He had asked the warden if he could have some cigarettes for Christmas. The warden had agreed on one condition: that Matt provide cigarettes for all the prisoners who were incarcerated on Christmas Day. He was asked to provide 2 cigarettes for each prisoner. So, Joe and I went out and bought 1 carton of Basic Menthol and 2 cartons of Basic regular and delivered them to the jail on Christmas Eve.  That was one happy group of prisoners on that smoky Christmas Day!

     We have learned our share of rules and procedures during this journey. One thing for sure: the rules are always different at each facility. We always expected to wait and always needed to have a picture ID, but other details varied at each location. Some places we had to put money in a machine which went to an account for the prisoner. Some of the machines only took money and some would take a credit card. All of the visitation was behind glass. Some had a phone we both talked into and some just had glass with a speaker. There was always a time limit because so many people had someone to visit. There were usually children around waiting to see their fathers and mothers.

     I knew I had entered a different world when I observed some children at Cullman playing Hide and Seek the best they could. They would hide behind chairs, under tables, and beside Coke machines. The teacher in me would focus on their playful antics and I found myself amused at their creativity. No items were allowed in the back with the prisoners, so we usually came in with only our driver’s licenses. The same was true for the children. No books, or toys, or anything for entertainment.

     As I watched the group of three act out their child’s play, I overheard one child say to the other. “OK, now I’ll be the warden!”  Oh, well! When in Rome do as the Romans do… I realized at that point I was totally submerged in a different culture. They were acting out what they knew.  Sad, but true. But that did not make them any less loved by the one true God.

     Little moments like that have changed my feelings about people and families who struggle with issues related to drug addiction. It is a curse inflicted on all families. It knows no boundaries of race, gender, socioeconomics, faith, education. It’s a monster that can raise its ugly head anytime or anyplace. It can rip families apart and make orphans of the innocent. The only thing I can do to help others, besides pray for them, is to reassure them that there is a purpose in their life. That they are part of the big picture, a victim of an unseen battle for each soul that has nothing to do with what we did or did not do. I can encourage them to trust the Lord in each and every circumstance and be dependent on His grace as they face their earthly struggles. I can reassure them of the hope I have found in Jesus Christ. It will not fix the hurt and the anger or pay for the legal battles, but it will provide a peace in knowing that all things work for the good of those who love the Lord. I can tell them what I have been through and what I continue to face on a daily basis. I can share my struggles and my faith.

Chapter 14 - Mental Health Issues

 

     As the court date drew closer, Matt became more anxious. He still insisted he was not going to Prison. I knew the inevitable but what I didn’t realize was that he meant he would do whatever it took to stay out of prison, even if that meant suicide.

     The court allowed Matt to go to a group meeting like Celebrate Recovery, a Christian based 12 step recovery group.  In fact, they actually encouraged it. We tried to go as a family. We would all listen to the speakers and participate in the worship service, but only Joe and I would attend the small group sessions. Matt called them a “trigger”, which meant that would trigger off his desire to use drugs. So, we would let him refrain from attending and go outside and smoke.  That may have been a mistake, because somehow, Matt still had access to drugs.

    One meeting, I recall, we were just about to leave when Matt remembered he had left something in his room. He wouldn’t say what but he ran inside. For some reason, I believe a prompting of the Holy Spirit, Joe followed him into the house. As Joe passed by his bedroom door, he saw Matt “shooting up” before the meeting. All Hell broke loose, but we went on to the meeting. What else could be done? We needed help now more than ever.

     Parents who have been in this situation can relate. So many thoughts run through the brain. If I tell his probation officer, he will certainly go to jail and it would be my fault.  Why doesn’t the drug tests show up positive? Where is he getting the stuff? Am I not watching closely enough? Help me!  Help Matt!  Just Help!

    Joe and I had a special company trip planned the end of September, so now the case was entering nine months. We debated whether or not to go but the brothers volunteered to keep an eye on Matt.  I remember the event well, because Matt was called for a drug test on the Monday we got back.

    Earlier in the week before the trip, I had received a message from the secretary at school to come straight home after dismissal. Matt’s probation officer was at the house. When I got home, I found Justin in the living room talking to Matt. Evidently Matt had called him expressing his fear of going to prison and Justin was very concerned with Matt’s mental state. He, too, was afraid Matt might harm himself. We both talked him through the episode, but Justin was still concerned. Matt agreed to go to the psychiatrist. Justin did not want us to go on the work trip, but he did understand we had a commitment and agreed on having his brothers watch him closely.

     I should have suspected something since Matt’s color came up that week and again on Monday. Prisoners are given a color and must call in each day to check to see if their color is up. If it is their color, they have to come in for a drug test that day.  Matt’s color came up on Thursday before we left, and again on Monday.

      What I did not know was that Justin had talked to Joe. He felt like Matt was at a serious point where he might take his own life. They both agreed he did not need to be left alone during the day while I worked. He might do something drastic. The only thing that could be done was to bring him in to jail so that he could be put on a suicide watch.

       Joe agreed to bring Matt in before work to have a drug test. From there he would be apprehended and taken to the county jail. Neither Matt nor I knew what was about to happen. So, on that late September morning I would say goodbye to my son, not knowing it would be the last time I would hug him until after his sentencing several months later.

 

Chapter 13 - The Feds

 

      At the federal courthouse, Matt was officially charged for the pharmacy robberies. It was now the United States vs James Matthew Hobby. The first thing I did learn is that there were other services offered to a person charged with a federal crime. Matt was given a pre-trial officer who worked on his behalf in securing medical help. He was scheduled with a counselor and also allowed to return home with us, but this time he had to wear an ankle bracelet that tracked his whereabout at any given time. If he ever went out of range, even up the street or to the mailbox, the device would alert his officer. He had a short time to respond before the authorities were called.

     Matt was scheduled for a series of tests and given a court appointed attorney. Things moved much faster in federal court. Matt’s pre-trial probation officer was a really nice guy and Matt formed a close bond with Justin.

      Reality is not a fun when you are the target of a real-life drama that unfolds like a page-turning suspense novel. I thought I would wake up any day and this would be some kind of joke, but unfortunately, I was living this truth. My son had robbed a pharmacy for drugs and was facing a lot of prison time for his actions. I had raised him in the church and tried to be the best parent, but none of that mattered now. It was not my reputation on the line, it was his. He was a grown man, accountable for his own actions. I had done all that I could and I knew that I had.

      When Matt had come out of surgery that awful night in January, I had the strangest peace about the future. In those fifteen years of dealing with a drug addicted teenager, I had tried everything I could to control the situation. I had chased him to strange places, made phone calls, lied to teachers when I knew he should be at school. I had made excuses, taken him to meetings, tried to make him feel guilty, but NOTHING worked. I had finally learned that I could not change someone else, only the way I react to the situation. I had learned to work on me.

      His dad, on the other hand, had learned that he could only argue with me about how to handle things, so he eventually backed down. Sort of the fight and flight syndrome that I talked about earlier. It’s not that I was usurping his authority, it’s just that when I would pray about a situation sometimes, I would have a change of heart. When the incident happened, Joe began to ask himself what he could have done to change things. The answer to that question is nothing. Nothing he could have done would have changed Matt. Matt had to change Matt. My brother once said that Matt would stay clean, when staying clean was easier than staying high.  What words of wisdom he spoke!

         The concept of letting go is hard to grasp for some parents. We somehow feel responsible for the actions of our children. Truth is, our children are living, breathing souls with the same free-will God gives to every human being. They are their own person. Sure, we can lead them and guide them along the way, but they are accountable for their own actions. The only true thing we can do for them is pray for them. I remember a dear friend told me once that she just prayed that Jesus would take her boys “kicking and screaming.” She knew they would fight the Lord the whole way, but she wanted them to know Jesus whatever it took so she asked the Lord to knock them in the head if he had to but just take them!

    I found myself praying even harder in the Hugo Black Federal Courthouse!

Chapter 12 In Court

                                                                    

        I remember vividly the first day in court. I had taken Matt to the courtroom to address the judge and be presented with his charges. We entered the room quietly and sat on the back bench with all the other accused who did not have representation.

        They called case after case before the judge. As we came closer to our time, I was given an open moment to exchange dialog with the bailiff in charge of assigning pro bono lawyers. I briefly explained Matt’s situation. She took one look at his file and said he had some very serious charges. Just at that time an older lawyer walked into the courtroom. The bailiff looked at the man and said, “This guy here is just the man you need.”

       I had prayed that morning for guidance. This was such a new experience and there was no rule book on court behavior. It reminded me of the first time I went with Joe to play golf. I knew nothing about rules or order on the golf course. I walked on pins and needles in order to prevent the embarrassment of being criticized for simply not knowing golf etiquette. Those same feelings surfaced then in the courtroom.

      I was not even sure if I should be talking to the bailiff, but she was kind and pleasant. I told her our dilemma to which she replied, “Honey, you can pay good money and a lot of it to a lawyer, but you will never get a better lawyer than that man right there.”  I knew at that moment God had answered my prayer.

      We met with the newly acquired attorney that day and several time the next few weeks. He also was concerned with the fact that Matt had made a confession. He felt like the best defense Matt could have was to take his case before a jury of his peers. Matt was facing a rather stiff law, called the Alabama Pharmacy Robbery Act, created by the state legislature for the protection of pharmacies and their employees. We would learn that The Alabama Pharmacy Robbery Act would call for Matt, if convicted, to serve a sentence that was longer than my expected lifespan. In other words, his father and I would not live to see his release. This legislation states that any person convicted of armed robbery of a pharmacy shall be required to serve a sentence of 20 years minimum with no parole, a scary thought since Matt was possible facing two charges. He would serve 40 years if convicted.

      Given the serious consequences, his attorney made the decision to go to trial and hope there was not enough evidence to convict. Or maybe even chance a mistrial. Whatever the case, he felt it was a better defense than simply signing a statement.

      Matt had almost finished his time out on bond before the court date. He was scheduled to tell the judge his decision for a trial when, once again, God had different plans. It would take months for me to realize that this was yet another miracle. I was too upset at the change of events at the time to focus on the positive. My whole life had been turned upside down. It was like someone put a blindfold over my face and then said “Walk!”

      I remember that morning so vividly. Matt and I were to meet his lawyer at the court house around 9. Joe had gone on to work that morning and was to meet us there. As always, I was running behind, so I dropped Matt off and went to park the car. He was standing just outside the entrance to the county jail when I last saw him. He wanted a cigarette before he went inside.

      I parked the car and was about to get out when I got a strange phone call on my cell phone. The conversation is pretty much a blur because my mind went blank after I heard Federal Agent…. This could not be happening. We had this all figured out. Why would the Feds step into this situation?  I was terrified. I was alert enough to hear him say meet me at the Hugo Black Federal Courthouse.

      Since Joe was to meet me inside the court house, I continued on to the scheduled place of our meeting. He was there with, of all people, one of the detectives in the case. When I saw the two of them, I broke down. I couldn’t help but cry. This whole incident had been such a shock and now I found myself facing a Federal courthouse and new charges.

      After a few deep breaths, I was able to calm down enough to listen to Joe and the detective. Because a gun had been used in the robbery, Matt was facing federal charges. I felt like I was going to faint. This was all too much for me to comprehend. I remember the detective trying to calm my fears. He assured us that Matt would be better off with the feds than in a state institution. Plus, there was not much hope with the pharmacy act at the state level.

      In retrospect, I know it was all part of God’s plan all along. His time in federal prison would be a long hard journey, but much more bearable than timed served in a state facility.

Chapter 11 - The Wreck

 

     After about a week of recovery at the house, I returned to my work teaching. Matt was able to care for himself and he only cleaned the surgery site once daily. The bullet had entered his shoulder and exited through his back just under his lung. That wound had to be cleaned daily also.

     A second week of staying home was enough time for boredom to set in, so Matt decided to take my old van to the store. His excuse was that he needed cigarettes, but I think he also had other reasons to leave. We would find out later that he was still actively using drugs.

    I was just about to leave school when I got a call from a coworker. “Carol, I am on the interstate just after the Deerfoot exit and there is a red van in the ditch on the other side of the highway. Is Matt at home?”

    My heart sank. I assumed he was at the house but with an addict one can never assume. Within minutes I had enough information to know it was my van and my son. Matt had left around noon on his adventure and on the way back somehow managed to wreck my car just shy of an overpass on the interstate. After seeing the pictures of the automobile, I could not believe that he had once again escaped death. Another miracle!!  A few more feet and the van would have plunged down another 30 feet into the creek below. I am certain he would not have survived that impact.

    He was taken again to UAB hospital. This time I was so angry I refused to visit. I didn’t even check on him. The discharge doctor told him he was one lucky fellow to have survived two serious episodes in as many weeks. At what point does Matt wake up and see that God has a purpose for his life?

     The seat belt had saved him but it had also damaged an artery in his neck. The doctors did some repairs and ordered him to ICU for a few nights of observation. There was a possibility of blood clots forming in that artery. I let his father communicate with Matt but I refused to listen to his story. I knew it would be riddled with lies. Why can he not learn to tell the truth?

    Matt's combined charges for both hospital stays totaled over $250,000. He was indigent and unable to pay. He talked only once with a financial counselor at the hospital, yet his hospital bills were paid for through the kind charity of a generous, anonymous donor. I think we are up to at least 10 miracles by now!

    Matt spent several weeks going to doctors’ appointments. He developed MERSA even though he was on several antibiotics. His physical wounds were beginning to heal but the inevitable heartache from the consequences of his actions were becoming more of a problem each day. His dad and I agreed that we would let him handle his legal issues with a court appointed attorney. We had already spent a great deal of time and money with his prior arrests. This one had the potential of being extremely costly and his dad and I were not wealthy people. We had to rely on the grace of God once again.

      I remember very clearly a word of encouragement I received about Matt when he was dealing with the MERSA. Late one night as I was having my quiet time with the Lord, a thought about his infection came to my mind. I began convincing myself that there might be a chance he would NOT be sent to prison since his staff infection was so contagious. I felt a small sense of relief then a sudden shock back to reality that, yes, he would be going away. Then a peace came over me and I heard a small quiet voice say, “I’m going to protect Matt. You let me worry about the HOW.” I knew I had heard a voice from the Lord.

     So as soon as Matt was released from the surgeon, we appeared before the magistrate ready to face the consequences. God had another miracle in store for us.