Weekend Review: The I'm Alive, Praise God Edition
I had a really great weekend. Quality fun time spent with family Saturday. Quiet Sunday and Monday. Just an overall lovely weekend. But things could have been very very different and it's only by the Grace of a loving God that I had a lovely weekend.
So here's the thing. A praise report, if you will.
Saturday morning I got up early to do my usual Saturday morning grocery run. I don't know if I've ever mentioned it here before but every time I get behind the wheel of my car I say a long heartfelt prayer for safety and a smooth trip--no car problems, flat tires, etc. That I harm no one and no one harms me. I praise God for the gift of independence and the blessing of my car.
That heartfelt prayer came in very VERY handy during Saturday morning's trip to town.
I was almost into the city limits, cruise control set on 55mph. I was quite a ways back when I first noticed a silver car pull up to the end of a driveway and stop for oncoming traffic. For some reason traffic was a little heavier than normal and the car had to wait a while. I was maybe five yards away from it--or two car lengths from it--(close enough I could almost see the driver's face) when for whatever reason the driver decided to pull out in front of me. I don't know if he just didn't look back my way or if he just got impatient or what but ya'll...that's as close as I've ever been to running smack dab into a car.
I slammed my brakes and jerked the wheel into the other lane--no time to think to lay on the horn or to even cuss. I didn't even think to see if anyone was coming in the opposite direction. All I had time to think to do was slam the brakes and jerk the wheel. And I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that the ONLY way I avoided hitting that long silver car was that God intervened. There's no other explanation for it. By all rights my car should be in an accordion style heap and the driver of the other car should probably be dead. If He hadn't intervened I'd have plowed right into the driver's door and likely killed him and maybe even myself.
Tires squealed, ya'll. My heart was in my throat and once my car stopped and I realized I hadn't hit that car or been hit all I could think was, Thank you, Lord!
I just sat there for a second--car on the wrong side of the road, heart pounding in my ears so hard that I could barely breathe. The other car just kept on going as though he/she hadn't almost died or caused a bloody accident. I don't know why I thought they would stop. I guess I wanted an apology for them having been so reckless with my life. When I finally had the whits about me to realize that I had to move, I looked in my rear view mirror and noticed that the guy in the car behind me had come to a stop too, and was just sitting there as well, mouth kinda hanging open.
And then I had to just laugh as I continued on into town because, well, I was a little giddy from the adrenaline rush but also because it hit me with sudden force that I'd just escaped something that could have been very bad for a lot of people. The day of fishing with the kids could have been usurped by a trip to the ER or worse--a notification from the sheriff's department. And I'm not even being melodramatic when I say that. I was close enough that if I hadn't swerved when I stomped the brakes, I'd have hit that car at a rather high rate of speed. Those kinds of impacts don't usually end well for anyone.
I wanted to call Mama and tell her about it. I wanted to tell SOMEONE. Someone needed to know that God had just saved my life. That he'd answered my prayer for safety. But I didn't. Not right away. I just thanked God profusely and went on with my shopping as though nothing had happened. It wasn't until I was on my way home and Mama called me that I told her what had happened--or had nearly happened.
God is good all the time.
So here's the thing. A praise report, if you will.
Saturday morning I got up early to do my usual Saturday morning grocery run. I don't know if I've ever mentioned it here before but every time I get behind the wheel of my car I say a long heartfelt prayer for safety and a smooth trip--no car problems, flat tires, etc. That I harm no one and no one harms me. I praise God for the gift of independence and the blessing of my car.
That heartfelt prayer came in very VERY handy during Saturday morning's trip to town.
I was almost into the city limits, cruise control set on 55mph. I was quite a ways back when I first noticed a silver car pull up to the end of a driveway and stop for oncoming traffic. For some reason traffic was a little heavier than normal and the car had to wait a while. I was maybe five yards away from it--or two car lengths from it--(close enough I could almost see the driver's face) when for whatever reason the driver decided to pull out in front of me. I don't know if he just didn't look back my way or if he just got impatient or what but ya'll...that's as close as I've ever been to running smack dab into a car.
I slammed my brakes and jerked the wheel into the other lane--no time to think to lay on the horn or to even cuss. I didn't even think to see if anyone was coming in the opposite direction. All I had time to think to do was slam the brakes and jerk the wheel. And I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that the ONLY way I avoided hitting that long silver car was that God intervened. There's no other explanation for it. By all rights my car should be in an accordion style heap and the driver of the other car should probably be dead. If He hadn't intervened I'd have plowed right into the driver's door and likely killed him and maybe even myself.
Tires squealed, ya'll. My heart was in my throat and once my car stopped and I realized I hadn't hit that car or been hit all I could think was, Thank you, Lord!
I just sat there for a second--car on the wrong side of the road, heart pounding in my ears so hard that I could barely breathe. The other car just kept on going as though he/she hadn't almost died or caused a bloody accident. I don't know why I thought they would stop. I guess I wanted an apology for them having been so reckless with my life. When I finally had the whits about me to realize that I had to move, I looked in my rear view mirror and noticed that the guy in the car behind me had come to a stop too, and was just sitting there as well, mouth kinda hanging open.
And then I had to just laugh as I continued on into town because, well, I was a little giddy from the adrenaline rush but also because it hit me with sudden force that I'd just escaped something that could have been very bad for a lot of people. The day of fishing with the kids could have been usurped by a trip to the ER or worse--a notification from the sheriff's department. And I'm not even being melodramatic when I say that. I was close enough that if I hadn't swerved when I stomped the brakes, I'd have hit that car at a rather high rate of speed. Those kinds of impacts don't usually end well for anyone.
I wanted to call Mama and tell her about it. I wanted to tell SOMEONE. Someone needed to know that God had just saved my life. That he'd answered my prayer for safety. But I didn't. Not right away. I just thanked God profusely and went on with my shopping as though nothing had happened. It wasn't until I was on my way home and Mama called me that I told her what had happened--or had nearly happened.
God is good all the time.
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