Crickets

My friend was telling me a story the other day.   In the story she said " and well after she said that, "crickets." In other words, there was no response.  All you could hear were crickets because no one said anything.  I liked the expression.

I like the sound of crickets on a summer evening.  Especially after a noisy busy day.  But crickets day after day with no sounds to break it up can drive one crazy. 

Several have asked what news do I have from Peter.  Well, "crickets."

Peter will have been at the local Behavioral Health Hospital a week as of tomorrow.  He has made no attempt to call me.  I have called every other day to reach out.  But because he has not contacted me, I do not have the security code and they can't tell me anything.  I leave his name,  my name and number, and message.  And the kind person on the other end will say, "It we have someone by that name, we will give him the message."

By spying on his my chart patient portal I can tell that he had a phone appointment with his Psychiatrist on last Wednesday.  Via a phone call from the Behavioral Therapist who called me Friday, I learned that Peter has claimed himself as homeless, was not  near ready to release at the time, and well that's about it.  Because Peter is not seeking out my participation in this process, I am limited on what can be shared.  The Behavioral Therapist did ask about Peter going to a residential program.  When I told her that had been my desire and insurance had lead us into a brick wall she said she knew of a place in Florida that took Peter's insurance.  My response was Peter has often talked about living in Florida!  There appears to be multiple hurdles to get him into a program, but hope was rekindled.

The problem with "crickets" is the longer time passes the more the imagination whirs.  In the beginning of Peter's recent hospital stay it was just relief.  Not my responsibility, nothing I can do.  But as time goes on the sound of crickets is deafening.  And the ability to do nothing can drive me a bit nuts.  Even praying seems like it is bouncing.  Or I worry that I am wearying of praying and oh no what if I am not praying enough.  But I keep telling myself truth. Peter is in a safe place. God is at work.  God's time table is not mine.  God hears and answers even my feeble attempt at praying. He loves that boy more than I do.

So as Peter comes to your mind, your prayers for his mind, heart, salvation and the next step are greatly appreciated!