In hindsight, it seems pretty arrogant and ridiculous but I used to think God had something special planned for me. It was the only reason I could think of that Got would allow me to survive. As a newborn, I suffered from a high fever the doctors weren’t sure where I had gotten or if I would make it. When I came through enough for them to realize I would live, they said I would probably be blind. I didn’t die and I’m not blind, but it did damage the nerve in my right eyelid, causing it to droop and causing many self-esteem issues throughout my life.

At the age of seven, we were taking a friend home from church one Wednesday night when an eighteen-wheeler pulled out in front of us. My mother tried to avoid him, but couldn’t avoid the collision. I remember my mother slamming the brakes and swerving, the crash, then terror as I watched blood drip down my pink button down shirt. For whatever reason, a scene from a movie where a man had an accident and became paralyzed flashed through my mind. My seven year old brain thought that everyone who was in a car accident either became paralyzed or died. I started screaming. Amazingly, no one was hurt beyond flesh wounds. I still have a scar in my cheek where I bit into it on impact, and I can still feel it. We were all bruised, my friend had two black eyes, and I don’t remember my little brother having anything (he had been asleep in his car seat.) The worst injury was my mother, who had a couple of bruised or broken ribs. Not entirely sure. I do know that she is the only one who had to stay overnight in the hospital, and that was just one night. My seat belt kept me from going through the windshield and probably saved my life.

Flash forward to January 1, 2002. I had just turned eighteen, and was excited about my upcoming graduation. A couple of friends invited me to hang out with them. Thrilled to show off my Christmas clothes and brand new cell phone, I happily obliged. On my way out the door, I remembered I didn’t have enough gas to get to my friend’s house, so I asked my parents if I could drive my mom’s nicer, bigger car. They said yes, so I happily skipped off to pick up my friend Elizabeth on the way over. Only I didn’t make it. A car swerved into my lane hitting me head on. I was wearing my seat belt, but the airbags didn’t deploy. I smashed my head on the steering wheel, but somehow didn’t pass out. I had the pleasure of consciousness for every last bit of it. Adrenaline surged through me, and my first thought was to call my mother before the police did and scared her half to death.

My brand new cell phone had gotten knocked around in the car, so despite the dull ache in my shoulder and the stinging pain in my face and hands, I jumped out of the car to go get it. Note to anyone else in an accident: Don’t get out of the car unless you think it might explode. You may exacerbate injuries masked by adrenaline! I certainly didn’t think I was very badly injured. I was even playing out in my head that I could still make it to my friend’s house by being late by about an hour. I called my mom (an RN) and very calmly told her I was in an accident, purposely making it sound like a fender bender. By the time she arrived, the ambulance had gotten there. I knew one of the EMTs from work, and I had played a casual game of softball my freshman year with another one, though I am not sure he recognized me. I was sitting holding a paper towel someone had given me, trying to stop the blood from gushing from my nose. My new Christmas clothes were completely ruined. My jeans from all the blood, and my dark sweater because they later cut it off of me. First time to wear them, too! I could think about all these things because I was conscious, and it is strange what you think about when you are the victim. When they tried to get me on a stretcher into the ambulance, the adrenaline surge was gone and I could not move. They had to do it, and it was excruciating. The paramedic on the scene couldn’t get an IV started. My mom couldn’t either. I lost count after twenty tries of them poking me. Let me tell you, if they can’t get it in a normal place, they try places where it hurts like hell. They decided to med-flight me to Little Rock. Even the people in the helicopter couldn’t get an IV started. Some doctor did in the ER, I think.  So much for seeing my friends that night! Well, I did later, but that was in a hospital room, not having fun like we’d planned. CAT scans and numerous checks later, we were all amazed that I only needed one night in the hospital.  I survived with a badly broken collar bone (that needed surgical repair several months later), some bruised ribs, slipped tendon in my finger (which actually hurt worse than my snapped collar bone), cracked fingernail, and tons of various cuts and bruises. A bump on my finger and surgical scar are my only reminders from that. It was by the grace of God, we decided, that I had taken my mother’s car. My tiny ’88 Toyota Corolla would have been no match for the brand new Ford Explorer that had crumpled the front end of my mother’s larger car all the way to the windshield. That and my seat belt, again, saved my life. I gave God all the credit, and started thinking about how he had saved my life so many times. Why?

(I got some money out of that accident. Paid for one or two semesters of school and my ex husband’s lemon of a car and I am sick about doing that to this day because that means an extra $7500 in student loans for me, and he took our new car when we split, but that’s another story).

In February, I got sick again. This time, I needed my gallbladder removed. A stone had lodged in the bile duct, making me extremely ill for weeks. They think maybe the accident had shaken it loose and lodged it in there, but it had definitely been there before. My surgeon said it was one of the worst ever. I had been jaundiced, and was probably only a few days away from serious illness or complications from that. My red hair neutralized my yellow skin. It looked like I had a very nice tan! The only way you could tell was by looking into my eyes a certain way. I was so young! I had only a couple of risk factors for gallbladder problems, but they run in my family young, so that probably had something to do with it. I missed so many days of school that semester! I graduated because I managed to keep up my grades and because they were all excused.

At this point, I knew God was trying to get my attention about something. Why else would I live through all of these calamities if God hadn’t been trying to get my attention? After my car accident my senior year, I prayerfully volunteered for the ministry. I thought God might have mission work planned for me. I could see myself traveling the world, giving hope to people who had none. I loved this idea. I still loved this idea when I felt God calling me to be a minister’s wife instead.

That’s how I managed to get myself tangled up in this mess, I suppose: by assigning supernatural causes to everything. When a minister showed interest in me, I knew he was the one, even though I knew our relationship was moving way too fast. We met on September 14, 2003 (ironically, I met Steve that day, too) and were married August 21, 2004. Less than 11 months from first meeting to marriage.

So what are people like me supposed to do with all of this stuff? I completely felt that God had saved me for some purpose. Spring, 2002 was the time I felt closest to God. When everything turns out to be such a mess, how am I supposed to interpret that? I could have gotten the message wrong, but I felt it the way people who tell me that they know God exists because they feel his presence in their life felt. So if I am wrong on that, then they are probably wrong on their experiences, too. I could have gotten the message right but fallen victim to someone else’s sin, but where does that leave me? Out in the cold for all eternity because of some jerk (who still goes to church and calls himself a Christian, by the way)?  Or there is no God at all, and my survival had more to do with a combination of luck and intelligence (modern medicine and wearing my seat belt)? For that and many, many other reasons, I think I am going to go with the latter.

Tags: atheism, Christianity, religion

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