The day started out like any other June morning as I left my home at 8:30 a.m. to begin the 45 minute drive to the dentist. The sun was already shining brightly overhead as I leisurely drove the old hi-way taking in the rural scenery. “I’m so glad to be getting rid of this thing,” I thought as I run my tongue over my back molar. With the exception of hating dental appointments I was glad to be replacing the irritating temporary crown for a slick shiny golden one.
I’d missed the early work commuter traffic so the road was as clear as the summer sky. I hadn’t seen another vehicle since I’d left the house five miles back, until I neared the weird six-way intersection. It was a dark green Jeep traveling in the opposite direction as me. I didn’t give it any thought. As I approached the funky junction, the Jeep slowly started to turn directly in front of me. “Whoa,” a flash of fear washed over me bringing back memories from seven years earlier on the same road when a Jeep ran the stop sign causing Dennis to put our Taurus through the fence into a hay field preventing a horrible collision but resulting in a total loss of our car. Since that accident I have marveled at how God directed our car that evening, placing it perfectly between two wooden fence posts with only a 1/4 of an inch of clearance on each side. We walked away unscathed.
Now with two hands gripping the steering wheel, I lifted my foot from the throttle as my mind quickly thought of what I would do if the Jeep didn’t stop or straighten upon seeing me, which I fully expected. “I could swerve to the left to keep from hitting her. I thought. “No, that would not be good,” a voice in my head answered. Swerve to the right.” Immediately as my car entered the intersection at nearly 60 mph I did as I was told and cranked the steering wheel hard to the right as the Jeep continued unhurried into my path. Deflecting the impact, it hit my car in the driver side door—thrusting my body sideways as glass shattered and flew like wind driven rain inside my car. “Oh sh#*!” I yelled. Anger consumed me with the thought of being forced to replace my perfectly good Taurus, again. My car spun a circle backwards in the middle of the empty side street staying on the pavement, and then began a second spin. I threw my hands into the air to let the car find its own way. Time seemed to stand still, “I’m still spinning.” “YOU BETTER STOP BEING ANGRY AND START PRAYING!” the voice yelled just as I felt the car hit the gravel and leave the smooth pavement onto the bumpy dirt. “Oh God, Oh God, OH GOD,” I cried out in fear of flipping, as a tidal wave of dirt engulfed the car and gas fumes filled the air. Then all was calm. I held out my hands in front of me, palms up, turning them over looking at them in disbelief I said, “I’m ok. Thank you Jesus.”
That was a year and a half ago. There were no visible injuries that day but the accident took its toll on my inner body and mind. I haven’t been myself since. Therapy has helped and I get stronger each month. I thank God for my husband and his willingness to carry my load. Though I appear healthy and strong I have had to learn to ask for help and explain my rattled, confused and forgetful thoughts to strangers because that’s what therapy has taught. I wasn’t the brightest star in the sky before the accident but my light still shines—just a little dimmer. I’m grateful for the voice in my head and the guidance He provided that saved two lives on what started out as any other sunny summer day.
Count your many blessings and name them one by one, and in everything give thanks.
I hope you have a very Merry Christmas and a Blessed New Year.
Sherrie Gant is a writer, photographer, and