This day a year ago changed our
lives.
On this day exactly one year ago, we
left our friends in Salt Lake City in order to head to Nebraska. John had a
meeting scheduled for the next morning in Hastings, so we were hoping to get as
far as Sydney. We were on I-80 a little past Rawlings, WY when a semi truck forced
us off the road and onto the sloped median. Our car flipped three and a half
times and I remember distinctly thinking, “This cannot be happening, this cannot
be real.” I just kept praying, that when this car stops rolling, we would all
still be alive."
We were all still alive. The pumping
adrenalin made it feel like we got out of this in pretty good shape. A broken
tooth, a hemorrhaged eye, scrapes, cuts, glass and so on. We were alive,
without broken bones or any gaping wounds. Finley worried us the most. He got pummeled
pretty badly by things flying around. He was listless, threw up, and seemed
very, very tired. They airlifted him to a hospital that had a children’s E.R.
in order to do some tests. This all was extremely nerve-wracking, but worth it
to know that he had no brain swelling or bleeding. It was rough, physically and
emotionally and logistically as Finley and I were taken to a different hospital
as John and Elea.
The day after, I was in more pain
than I had ever experienced in my life. Every muscle was screaming, and anxiety
was high. That day passed in a blur, cramped in a car with six people. I was in constant pain. My hand began
swelling up like a balloon. I thought I would not make it through the next
night when I found myself lying on the bathroom floor of a hotel room, trying
not to pass out. Infection was spreading through my body causing sepsis and I
had no idea it had gotten so bad so quickly. On the second day after the
accident we made it to Kearney and I got help at a hospital, which was good for
me physically, but terrible emotionally, as it separated me from the one thing
I wanted to protect the most; my kids.
The next few days consisted of lots
of antibiotics, surgery, a few whirlpool treatments and painkillers that
completely wiped me out. Days in pain on the couch, days away from my kids, days
full with tears of sadness about the things I did not get to do, friends I did
not get to see, cancelled plans, meetings, activities and trips. It was the
least fun I had ever had. And worries.
Lots of worries about insurance, bills, liability, all of it. But
through it all, I also had peace. There was a sense of peace that I cannot
explain. The sense of peace, knowing that it’s in God`s hands. The same peace I
had at the beginning of our trip, when we were at the airport and my green card
was not in my wallet, but an hour’s car ride at home. The same sense that carried
me through while waiting for a miracle to unfold as God took hold of the
situation and guided us through. There is nothing He cannot do; there is
nothing out of His reach, out of His sphere of influence. He takes the broken
and makes it whole again. He can mobilize people and traffic and make the
impossible possible. He can speak peace into our hearts and minds even when our
whole world gets flipped upside down three and a half times. He can send his
angles to protect us and pediatricians to the side of the road and caring
nurses and police officers who pick up a little girl’s coloring books that got
sucked out of a shattered window and strewn across the median.
He’s got this. When crying out to Him
is the only option you have left; when your hands are broken, there is no way
to clench them; you have to give it all into His hands. There is no other way.
I know now, that all I want in life
is to have that peace. His peace. All I want is this feeling, that no matter
what this world throws at me, it is in His hands. I want my life to be full of
situations where He shows up, where my hands are broken and I have no other
choice than to give it up to Him, into His very capable ones.
These scars will last and I hope they
will remind me of what he has done for us. How he turns tears into joy and grows
new life from ashes of despair.
