Rescued

Jury duty proved more than I could handle today. I navigated the 6:30 a.m. Memorial bus in the dark and sat for several hours before panel selection got underway. Just being downtown in Rob's old world was too unsettling; I knew he had walked those halls many times.  
Being the 44th panelist, I thought it a pretty safe bet  I'd escape sitting on a grueling week long criminal case of domestic abuse, but late in the afternoon the verdict was delivered: Number 44, Alternate.
 The bailiff had to tell me to move as I sat there frozen. Seriously God? Piles of paper work mounting, my own probate date looming, and You want me to sit as an alternate for days? I finally collected myself and moved to the jury box, lip quivering, eyes welling. And then something so unexpected happened. The young female prosecutor hopped up and approached the judge and before I knew it, the defense team and I were summoned to the bench. The judge apologized for putting me in an uncomfortable position, informing me that the prosecutor suddenly remembered that I was newly widowed. (Yes, I couldn't bear checking that box without adding the word "recently.") I mumbled something about not being able to string two thoughts together and jeopardizing the defendant's case. They smiled and nodded at each other and that kind, robed man spoke the sweetest three words ever: You are excused! At the very last second, rescued by a kind attorney... Rescued by a loving Father!
Dismissed to my original seat, juror 45, a young, friendly guy who could have easily been my son, began to pat my back as I tried to compose myself. I told him how awful I would feel if he was picked in my place, but he assured me that he would willingly step in for me to spare me the grief of serving. Then he said, "I had lunch with "46", a postal carrier, and he mentioned that he really wouldn't mind being picked so he could avoid his cold mail route for the next few days." You guessed it; Juror #46 took my place.
Throughout the day, I had been preparing for a camp planning meeting and over and over I was reminded of how often God rescued wandering people and offered a way out in the form of a replacement . I just didn't realize I'd live that same lesson in a court room.