The Tabbie Tapes

by Tabbie

In Viking history it was a tradition for women to tell their husbands and sons to, “Come home, with your shield or on it”, when they were leaving for battle. The meaning was if you were brave in battle you would carry your shield home yourself. If you died with courage in battle, the other men would carry you home on your shield. Viking shields were so big and heavy the men could not run with them, if a man turned cowardly and ran from the battle he would come home without his shield. The entire family would be disgraced and looked down upon and shunned.

One morning during my Word time reading Ephesians 6, “Above all taking on the shield of faith with which you will be able to quench all the fiery darts of the wicked one.” This old Viking saying came to mind. I rejoiced in the fact that God is my shield and I never have to run from any battle. Those times when I find myself wounded in battle I can crawl onto my shield, and let God take care of me until my strength returns.

As for God, His way is perfect; the word of the Lord is tried. He is a Shield to all those who trust and take refuge in Him. -- 2 Samuel 22:31

Go through life with your Shield or on it.

He shall cover you with His feathers and under His wings you shall take refuge. His truth shall be your shield and bucker. -- Psalm 91:4

Tabbie McDermid © 1999

Early on a Saturday morning in January of 98, I set out alone for the two-hour drive to visit my mother and my grandparents.

It was an awesome trip. Everything I saw had the touch of the Masters Hand on it. The day was crisp and cold, the sun rising on the mountain tops, clouds dancing in the sky. Truly a masterpiece by design. The sheer magnificence of what My God created moved me to tears.

I drove through a spot where the fog was so thick; I couldn't see the end of it. I thought of the times I had felt trapped, in a fog wondering where Jesus was, longing to feel the Holy Spirit, but felt so far away. Then just as suddenly as I entered the fog, I drove out of it, and felt the sunlight. I understood that in those times of feeling trapped all I had to do was call upon the Name of Jesus, then suddenly the Son appears and everything changes.

To think the God that created the earth with His words knows me by name, knows everything about me and loves me anyway. Loved me so much He sent His Son to be born in the flesh, suffer and die on a cross just for me. Then when Jesus had been glorified, the Father sent me a comforter, the Precious Holy Spirit. I wept at the thought of it. God loved me so much had I been the only one in need of salvation He would have done everything exactly the same. The Lord and I had a wonderful trip of total peace and fellowship. To me this was one of the most beautiful days I had ever seen.

Upon arriving at my grandparent’s home, I discovered that one of my uncles had taken the same trip, same time, and same highway. As I listened to him tell about his drive, and how awful everything was, I just couldn't understand it. I was stunned that our view of the drive was so completely different. I was amazed that the splendor that brought tears to my eyes and joy to my heart was just a bad day to him.

Later, when my mother and I had left, I still couldn't get my uncle's words off my mind. I told my mother all about how the trip had been for me, and how I thought this was one of the most beautiful winter days I had ever seen. She just smiled and said, "Baby, you were looking at it with different eyes."

I understood, my uncle looked at it with regular eyes, and saw how it could have been better. I looked at it from the heart and saw the glorious creation of God.

Just think of it, the beauty and wonder of this world is nothing compared to what we will see in Heaven created by The Touch of the Masters Hand.

Tabbie McDermid © 1999

In September of 87, when Stevie was 5 1/2 years old, I had a dream that was like nothing I had ever experienced. For three nights every single time I closed my eyes it would be the same dream.

Parts of the dream I can see in my mind as clear today as I could then. However, I have never been able to find words that could completely describe it. I don't believe I'll ever find the words, because what I saw was not of this physical world.

I would be standing in this room that was gigantic. I could see the sides and the top but it was like looking at clouds. I knew they were there, but I also knew I couldn't ever reach them. The only door in the room was so big; it was as if I was an ant standing at a normal sized door. In the center of the room was a table, and Stephen was on it. His physical body was dead.

The entire room and everything in it, including Stevie was white, but it wasn't white. It was almost translucent, yet it sparkled like diamonds, the sparkles seemed to glisten with flashes of brilliant colors, but they to were translucent. The only thing of normal physical color as we know color, was me.

I was screaming and crying for someone to help Stevie, because I didn't want my precious boy to be dead. As I stood by the table Stevie was on, I could feel that someone was finally coming to help me. I turned and it was my sister, Terri Sue, that had passed away October 22,1979. Terri and the magnificent flowing gown She was wearing were the color of the room. It seemed as if she was gliding across the room. I started begging her to please help my baby. Terri just kept telling me that she would, but it wasn't time yet. I kept begging and pleading, but all she would tell me was when the time comes, she would help him and for me to be ready.

I was terrified, not of the room, of the thought of loosing my son. I would wake up crying, sometimes screaming, always in a cold sweat. For the next three nights if I wasn't asleep having this dream, I was sitting by Stevie's bed watching him breathe. I knew this was very real. I was afraid for him to be out of my sight during the day. I was petrified that what had placed him in that room would happen and I wouldn't be there to stop it. After the third night the dream stopped. I kept it in my mind, but as the days passed and nothing happened to Stevie I relaxed.

Almost a month later in October, around 9 p.m. on a Friday night, I was driving home, in my 86 Dodge Omni, going south on Hwy 75. Constance was in her car seat, behind me asleep. Even though Stevie was 5 1/2, he only weighed 35 pounds, so I still had him in a car seat on the back passenger side, because he didn't weigh enough for just a seat belt. Just as I started to turn on the exit ramp at Hwy 92, Stevie said, "Mama, I'm so tired and we're almost home, can I crawl in the hatch and lay down?" Quickly and harshly I said, "NO", Stevie knew the rules for riding in the car and I was irritated that he would even ask. As soon as I had answered, the strangest thing happened, I could feel Terri saying the time had come. It wasn't just a feeling in my heart or my mind; I could feel it screaming in every part of my body. I said, "Stevie, go ahead crawl in the back just this once." Stevie was just getting over the seat when I got to the top of the exit ramp and stopped. I let a couple of cars go by, turned right pulled over into the center turn lane. I was going to get gas before we went home. I looked and nothing was coming so I started across into the station. That's when it happened, out of nowhere, no lights, nothing to warn me. We were hit; it felt like by a freight train. My little car went sliding, being push by the F150 truck that had rammed into the passenger side of my car.

When the car finally stopped, people were running to us, from the station, Wendy's and McDonald's. At that point I still wasn't sure what had happened to us. I could hear Constance screaming, so I knew she was OK. I couldn't hear Stephen, I jumped out of the car and ran to the back, the hatch door was bent up in the center and the glass was broken, but most of it had not fallen in on Stevie. There was no way to open it without making more glass fall. I could see him laying there, I was screaming his name, but he didn't move. I went to Constance's door got her out of her seat; she was shaken up, but not hurt. A lady that was there took her coat off and wrapped Constance in it and held her. I was trying to get in the car enough to somehow get to Stevie when he came to. He rose up looked at me with blood running all down his face and asked, "what happened?" I pulled him over the back seat and across his sisters car seat and out of the car, just as the paramedic's and police pulled up. All of this only took minutes, but to me it seemed like hours. Stevie, looked bad, as they started cleaning him up to see where all the blood was coming from, they could only find a bunch of cuts from the glass that were so small they didn't even need stitches. The paramedics had both the kids in the ambulance, checking them out really good. A police officer, ask me if I would come and talk to them. So I got out of the ambulance.

They walked me over to the car, that was the first time I really looked at it. The Passenger side was completely indented with the print of the truck, Both Passenger doors were pushed to the center of the car, and the hood, top, and hatch door were all pushed up, like a triangle. Anybody looking knew my car was totaled the truck was still drivable. There were two police officers and a fireman standing by the car with me. One of the officers said that the lady that was holding my daughter had said that she was behind me, and what they wanted to know was where was the boy? Honestly, I thought I was fixing to get in trouble because Stephen wasn't in his car seat. I started telling the officer that I always make my kids stay in their car seats, but just this once I had let him cross the back seat and lay down in the hatchback. The fireman reached in and pulled out Stevie's crushed car seat and the officer said, "If your boy had of been in that seat, he would have been dead at the same second you were hit." I just went numb. One of them went on to say that the reason they were asking was because they knew if he was alive, he was somewhere else, and looking at the car they just couldn't figure out where he had been.

The man that hit us was arrested and charged with his seventh D.U.I., running a stop sign, driving at night with no lights, driving with no license or insurance, possession of marijuana and cocaine, and attempting to leave the scene of an accident. The officers told me that five of the men that came to help us, had jumped on and in the truck to keep the man from leaving, and when he tried to run away on foot they held him on the ground until the police arrived.

I never knew who any of the people that came to help us that night. I have always wished I could thank them. The lady that cuddled Constance close to her, as if she was her own scared child; all the people that helped me, and the others that kept the man that hit us from leaving. I never knew any of that was happening until it was over with. The Policemen, Firemen, and Paramedics that was so careful and gently with my terrified four and five year old babies. If you know of anybody that was in Acworth, GA. on that cold night in October that helped us in anyway, PLEASE let them know I thank them from the bottom of my heart.

There were only three safe places to be in that car, my seat, Constance's seat, and a small little hole in the back. And for the rest of my life I will Thank God for placing my beloved son in that little hole.

Satan had a plan to kill Stephen, steal a much-loved son from his mother, and destroy a future man of God.

HALLELUJAH, GOD HAD A PLAN!

To use what satan meant for evil and turn it into a miracle, and an awesome testimony of His love and mercy.

I've thought a lot about this over the years, and I believe the reason everything happened the way it did was because God knew me so well. God knew I would never just let my son out of that seat, because to me the seat protected him. He knew at that point in time I wouldn't just listen and obey Him, He would have too really get my attention. He also knew my trust in Him wasn't that strong, so He gave me someone I would trust my big sister Terri Sue. God helps us sometimes in spite of ourselves.