On Monday, September the 16th, 2002, at about 7:45 AM, I was on my way to Dr. Dan Strait's Advanced English Composition class. Driving my cute little, baby blue, '94 toyota tercel. I had stopped to get gas that morning near the Meijer grocery store and a thick fog hung in the early morning air. My favorite music to listen to in my very first car that summer had been Superchik, Switchfoot and A Walk to Remember Soundtrack. It was one of the best summers of my life, filled with new found freedom and the new adventure of heading to college.
The road was narrow that led down that steep hill into Wilmore, KY. I reached into the passenger seat of my car, averting my eyes from the fog filled road for just a brief moment to pick up my water bottle. As I reached, my steering wheel shifted with my gaze and the unfinished shoulder of the road began to rattle my car and my bearings. I swung back onto the road and back again attempting to regain control. At this point in the road, the speed limit changes from 55 to 25 and I had not yet reached the 25 mph sign. I was speeding down the hill, unsure of where I was going due to the thick fog and disorienting situation. It happened so fast. I saw fences and trees pass my windshield and eventually saw them directly in front of me. I knew this was the end. It was over. In my panic, I slammed on the gas pedal instead of the break and screamed out, "Oh God, No!!"
The next moment of consciousness that I knew, I couldn't immediately remember what happened. I thought, "Am I outside??" I didn't open my eyes, but I heard voices and noises all around me. Someone, an EMT most likely, asked me my name and if I knew what happened. I answered him. I'm not sure if I could tell him at the point what had happened. I didn't feel any pain, but I felt pressure on my legs and knew I couldn't move them. I was scared. I heard my friend's mom's voice tell me that my mom was on her way. Hearing that familiar voice gave me some comfort. The man told me they would get me out and that they would take care of me. I rested in that and decided I would be ok. At some point during all of this, I had the thought, whether it was an audible voice from God or just the way I usually hear him speak to me...in that still small voice, "I have a purpose for you here. It's not your time." I knew that if I had made it through this collision, I would make it through the recovery.
A lot of things happened once at the hospital and I have random and scattered memories of everything. I remember a lot...some of it a little embarrassing to repeat here. I remember my good friend bringing me his stuffed animal to comfort me when I was blue all over from loss of blood. I felt icy cold inside. I received a blood transfusion, surgery on my pelvis which left a plate and two screws that are still there and lots of stitches. The recovery time was 3 months total, with only two weeks in the hospital. I couldn't tell you everything I did in those three months, but I know they were some of the darkest, longest, most humbling days of my life. My dad told me that one day, I would look back on those three months and realize they were nothing but a "tiny blip on the radar of my life." Then it made me roll my eyes and long for that day, even though I knew he was probably right. And today, a few days away from 12 years later, I can tell you that he was right. My body was completely restored to perfect working order and the only time I really think about those three months is once a year, around the anniversary.
Well meaning people often told me that God intended that event for good in my life and that there was purpose in it. What deep spiritual truth was I learning in my journaling and recovery? Um. None. I had a stinky attitude most of that time. What I have come to realize is that bad things happen. ALL. THE. TIME. God's hand is never far from his people and he does REDEEM any adversity in our lives and use it for our good. He promises that. If nothing else at all, the event reassured me that there was in fact purpose in my time left here on earth. If there hadn't been, that would've been the time to take me. So even while directionless for several years in and out of college and even when the Enemy of our souls feeds me lies about my self worth and my ability to do what God has called me to do, I can always draw on that truth. I am here because God isn't finished with me yet. And that purpose is so much more about other people than it is about me.
Today I celebrate my fourth wedding anniversary to my loving and hilarious other half. He makes up for my weaknesses and gives me the confidence I need to accomplish what God has given me to do. Our first child is due at the end of November and her life is already truly blessed. She is going to be a mighty warrior chick in this world and if for no one else, I am amazed that I am being used to bring her into this world. What's even more amazing is that she is not the only life I have been blessed to be a part of in these last 12 years. Every day is a gift. Every meeting is an opportunity to pour into someone else's life, something that would've not been before. It's a wonderful life. Cherish it. Be grateful. Live.
The road was narrow that led down that steep hill into Wilmore, KY. I reached into the passenger seat of my car, averting my eyes from the fog filled road for just a brief moment to pick up my water bottle. As I reached, my steering wheel shifted with my gaze and the unfinished shoulder of the road began to rattle my car and my bearings. I swung back onto the road and back again attempting to regain control. At this point in the road, the speed limit changes from 55 to 25 and I had not yet reached the 25 mph sign. I was speeding down the hill, unsure of where I was going due to the thick fog and disorienting situation. It happened so fast. I saw fences and trees pass my windshield and eventually saw them directly in front of me. I knew this was the end. It was over. In my panic, I slammed on the gas pedal instead of the break and screamed out, "Oh God, No!!"
The next moment of consciousness that I knew, I couldn't immediately remember what happened. I thought, "Am I outside??" I didn't open my eyes, but I heard voices and noises all around me. Someone, an EMT most likely, asked me my name and if I knew what happened. I answered him. I'm not sure if I could tell him at the point what had happened. I didn't feel any pain, but I felt pressure on my legs and knew I couldn't move them. I was scared. I heard my friend's mom's voice tell me that my mom was on her way. Hearing that familiar voice gave me some comfort. The man told me they would get me out and that they would take care of me. I rested in that and decided I would be ok. At some point during all of this, I had the thought, whether it was an audible voice from God or just the way I usually hear him speak to me...in that still small voice, "I have a purpose for you here. It's not your time." I knew that if I had made it through this collision, I would make it through the recovery.
A lot of things happened once at the hospital and I have random and scattered memories of everything. I remember a lot...some of it a little embarrassing to repeat here. I remember my good friend bringing me his stuffed animal to comfort me when I was blue all over from loss of blood. I felt icy cold inside. I received a blood transfusion, surgery on my pelvis which left a plate and two screws that are still there and lots of stitches. The recovery time was 3 months total, with only two weeks in the hospital. I couldn't tell you everything I did in those three months, but I know they were some of the darkest, longest, most humbling days of my life. My dad told me that one day, I would look back on those three months and realize they were nothing but a "tiny blip on the radar of my life." Then it made me roll my eyes and long for that day, even though I knew he was probably right. And today, a few days away from 12 years later, I can tell you that he was right. My body was completely restored to perfect working order and the only time I really think about those three months is once a year, around the anniversary.
Well meaning people often told me that God intended that event for good in my life and that there was purpose in it. What deep spiritual truth was I learning in my journaling and recovery? Um. None. I had a stinky attitude most of that time. What I have come to realize is that bad things happen. ALL. THE. TIME. God's hand is never far from his people and he does REDEEM any adversity in our lives and use it for our good. He promises that. If nothing else at all, the event reassured me that there was in fact purpose in my time left here on earth. If there hadn't been, that would've been the time to take me. So even while directionless for several years in and out of college and even when the Enemy of our souls feeds me lies about my self worth and my ability to do what God has called me to do, I can always draw on that truth. I am here because God isn't finished with me yet. And that purpose is so much more about other people than it is about me.
Today I celebrate my fourth wedding anniversary to my loving and hilarious other half. He makes up for my weaknesses and gives me the confidence I need to accomplish what God has given me to do. Our first child is due at the end of November and her life is already truly blessed. She is going to be a mighty warrior chick in this world and if for no one else, I am amazed that I am being used to bring her into this world. What's even more amazing is that she is not the only life I have been blessed to be a part of in these last 12 years. Every day is a gift. Every meeting is an opportunity to pour into someone else's life, something that would've not been before. It's a wonderful life. Cherish it. Be grateful. Live.
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