His Watchful Eye

 Louise Arbetman

In my son Matthew's senior year, we had many trials with him and his choice of friends.  It was as if he was on a collision course and wouldn’t listen to anything we had to say.  He was always testing his limits with us.  

One evening, he had gone to his girlfriend's home where they apparently had a beer or two.  On his way home Matthew was stopped by an Orlando Police officer.  He wasn't drunk, but the officer could smell alcohol on his breath.  The policeman called me, since I was the owner of the vehicle, and asked my husband and me to meet him and Matthew at a nearby gas station.  His dad and I retrieved him and his pickup.  No ticket was issued -- just a warning.

Once we got home, Matthew began to pitch a temper tantrum.  He was going through the house, hitting and punching holes in two of the walls.  We pleaded with him to quit, but he would not listen to reason.  So in desperation, I dialed 911. Then he started to beg me to hang up.  We did not realize that once you dial, you cannot change your mind.  When the operator answered, my husband told her it was all a mistake.  The operator asked to speak to me and wanted to know the problem. I briefly explained what had happened and how upset our son was with us. However, I told her I thought things would be better now and then hung up.

Less than 10 minutes later, our doorbell rang.  At the door stood two OPD officers.  One was a lady from our church whom I knew personally.  Of all the police employees of the city, someone whom we knew answered our 911 call in spite of our saying we did not need for anyone to come.  

Matthew was unhappy with us and left home in a rage at the late hour of 1:00 a.m.  I was hysterical, thinking something really bad was bound to happen to him.  My friend, the policewoman said, “Do not worry about him. It is a slow night, and we will keep an eye on him.”  She said that he probably would go someplace nearby and stay with a friend.  Sure enough, less than 15 minutes later, one of Matthew's friend's parents called to say that they had picked him up, and he would be spending the rest of the night with them.  For the first time in quite awhile, we were able to sleep the rest of the night.  I know for a fact that God was in control of that night.

As I look back on this episode in the parenting of our son, I can see clearly that God intervened.  He told us to call 911, and  then sent someone from our church that could help us in the heartbreaking situation.  God continued to watch over Matthew as he left our house by guiding him to call a responsible friend to come and get him. Prayers were answered.  That was a turning point in his destructive behavior.  He now realized that we were not going to put up with his out-of-control behavior.  I give God the glory and credit for giving us the strength to do what needed to be done for our son