When God Pulls You From the Wreckage

Faith Grace Strength

Originally published 9/19/16 of an incident in October of 2015. 

“M’am? Can you wiggle your toes?”

“Is that my car?” I mumble a few words apparently inaudible to anyone.

“M’am? Can you hear me? Wiggle your toes.”

Is she alive? Is she okay? Oh my God, que feo. We heard it all the way down the street.

The sound of the impact is profuse; it lingers. The ringing in my ears drowns out half of what the medic requires of me. I wiggle my toes. I ask questions and don’t know if anyone can actually hear me.

Lights flash from the outside of my car, muffled by the air bags which have all deployed.

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“M’am, get out of the car.”

Werandownthestreetwhenweheardthecrash. Itwassoloud. Hehitherhard. Lookatthecar.

Noonecouldhavesurvived that.

From inside, through the mangled door, I can see large pieces of my car scattered down the street.

People are gathered around. They stare at me wondering if I’m alive.

I get out of the car, walk a few feet in front of me, prop up on my then fiance’s shoulder. He ran down the street hoping he could help whomever was hit. When he rounded the corner, he lost his breath when he realized it was me who had been hit. Head on.

I am unscathed and turn to face the car from where I emerged. It is crumpled like a piece of paper, the radiator is exposed, there is fluid on the street. The engine is on the street. I grow limp and bring my hands to my face and let out a cry similar to the one I moaned at birth.

Then, there is no sound only feeling.

Be still and know that I am God.   Psalm 46:10

Arms hug me, hands touch my back, fingers directed into machines, officers mouths move, faces speckled in doubt, cold flakes of breeze between my toes, heat rises in my chest, sweat gathers at my temples, blood drains from my fingers, my mouth tightens as the concrete touches my bottom when I sit down to look up to the sky. Then, I look at the medic hovering over me.

“You’re alive.”

 

How I survived this impact on an October evening is nothing short of a miracle. I never saw the Chevy Avalanche that bulldozed my front end because his lights were off and he was going more than 30 mph. Right before the impact, I saw a flash of light. In retrospect, I believe angels were covering my body when the truck plowed into me.

Do you believe in miracles, friend? I do.

Many people said it wasn’t my time. Friend, I think it was my time. It was my time to open my eyes, to be shaken awake, to realize God is mighty beyond what I will ever understand.

Today I am giving you a choice between life and death, between prosperity and disaster.”  Deuteronomy 30:15

Just days before I was feeling down on myself for not being “enough.” That October night, God showed me who is enough. He had to shake me awake to show me.

Not everyone survives such a horrendous car crash (without a single scratch). What I learned that night is that my survival comes from above.

Is God trying to show you how human you are? Is he pointing you toward him by shaking you awake somehow?

Sometimes his only way of shaking you awake is by mangling your surroundings so that the only place your eyes can focus is up.

 

Linked at Intentional Tuesday.

Linked at #TeaAndWord

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