This weekend ended up rather on the eventful side. I took my friend Kayla to dinner with my roommate, I saw Rob Young as a fairy king in A Midsummer Night's Dream, I dressed as a man for Terra Firma, I went to two surprise parties, I acted the part of a snotty doctor in Sunday school, I got lost, and I came face to face with my demise. Ok, call me dramatic, but I have never in my life been so close to death as I was this weekend. And no one even died.
On Sunday, I was talking to Hannah on the phone while driving up to Middle-of-Nowhere, Michigan for a Terra Firma (aka L.J.) event. I was coming late, hence I was alone. I was just a few miles away, so I glanced down at my mapquest directions to double check the exit. Mid-glance I heard and felt the large vibrations of a rumble strip beneath my tires. I swerved quickly to adjust my miscalculation, but the wheel just kept moving back and forth. Before I knew it, I had lost all control, fishtailed across the highway, rolled over twice and landed miraculously on the wheels of my car. Poor Hannah was still on the phone, calling my name after undoubtedly hearing me scream bloody murder. The rest was a blur. I talked to Hannah, my mom, a lady who had pulled over and told me to stay in my car, a first response team, a bunch of EMT people from the ambulance, a cop. I was rushed to the hospital with an IV in my arm and a neck brace around my neck, completely bound to some sort of plastic stretcher. At the hospital, I listened to doctors discuss whether they should cut my pants and bra off, whether I needed CAT scans or not and what I needed in my IV. The hospital was small, and protocol was certainly not followed in about a million ways, but I was ok in the end. The three CAT scans came back negative, the neck brace came off, and after about 4 hours, I was free to go home.
Of course, much more happened during the day, a lot of embarrassing things, a lot of annoying things, a lot of frightening things. But now I'm really just wondering about the aftermath of all this. I'm having a difficult time. I am feeling a million emotions at once. I'm feeling incredibly grateful that God spared my life and even spared me much injury. I'm feeling guilty because the whole thing was my fault and I ruined my dad's car and could've hurt others. (I'm thankful that I did not.) I'm feeling emotional, spontaneously crying out of nothing more than shock. I'm feeling lonely because no one quite gets why I'm upset. Mostly I'm feeling frustrated that I keep thinking about this stupid accident and frustrated that I'm emotional over it at all. It was my fault, I'm fine, it's over. That should be it, right? But something I never would've expected has crept up. It's almost like depression. Post-traumatic stress. I'm not sure what to label it, I just feel so many things at once and it's hard to concentrate on anything else. Everyone says it'll be a few days, weeks even, before I calm down. I suppose that's normal. But I guess I feel like I have no right to be so affected by it. I haven't even consciously thought, "I could be dead right now," more than a few times (and I could be--anyone who saw my demolished car knows I should be far more injured), but I believe that belies all of the emotion. The knowledge that I am in no way in control, and I cannot stop fishtailing cars. I cannot stop life when it careens out of control. And frankly, that knowledge is a little much for me.
I wish I could say that all is well because I've realized that although I am not in control the Lord is. I know this would be an appropriate and good Christian response; but if I told you that's what I'd learned I'd be lying. My relationship to the Lord is no better than it was Sunday morning. My understanding of his outrageous providence is no more real to me. Of course I recognize his hands have been all over me this weekend, but I haven't felt them enough to respond with a complete life change. I know that sounds horrible, but perhaps it's because he's saved my life before, in a much more significant way. Maybe I'm just insensitive.
What I have learned (or at least been reminded of) is that you can't change the past. Ask every "what if?" you can think of and still all that matters is "what is." That, to me, is sobering. No matter how many times I think, "I should've just been paying attention earlier and not gotten lost," or "I should've kept my eyes on the road," I still won't change the fact that I skidded off the road and put my life in jeopardy. On that note, no matter how long I wallow in my sin, no matter how many times I say, "what was I thinking?" it won't change what's been done. Sometimes I forget that my actions actually mean something. That they could mean something. The amount of power God has placed in our hands is much greater than I realize. Every move I make is important. My life, the lives of others, could be at stake. God wants me to work with him, to give him control, because if I don't, I mess all that up. Only God can handle this kind of power. And so we try our best to let Him.
Through it all, I knew, I know, that the Lord is with me. Whether I feel Him or not. Whether I watch for Him or not. Praise be to the King of kings.
Blessed,
e l i s a
3 comments:
Dearest Elisa,
I'm so glad you wrote, because I've been praying for you a lot, but was unsure of what to pray for... I kept trying to go back to the way that I felt after I got into an accident, which was much less severe than yours, and try to empathize with you.
In an attempt to dig up those old thoughts, I actually logged into my MYSPACE (which only still exists because I have years of blogging on there that I couldn't bear to delete...)and found the blog that I wrote after a crashed into a telephone pole. (If anyone wants to read it for kicks, it can be found here http://blogs.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=blog.view&friendId=6993939&blogId=246426531 It's so funny reading stuff little old me wrote so many years ago...) It doesn't really show in my blog, but I remember feeling like the world was shaken, like stability that I had taken for granted was gone. I remember right after it happened wondering where my tears had come from, because I couldn't remember crying them. And I remember coping by making the story funny... hence the blog.
When Hannah called me Sunday, before having any information, I got a pit in my stomach the likes of which I haven't had since Mench got in his accident. Praise HIM that you are okay! Some would look at what happened, and thank the man who invented seat belts, or crash-test dummies, or chalk it up to good luck. God obviously wants to use this sister, and one day soon (though how soon is up to Him) you will understand. Sending you internet hugs! See you at thanksgiving! I'll be praying!
Thank you so much for that comment, Katie. I didn't realize how much I would need people who understand. I had to keep myself from crying at work while I read that. I love you and thank God for you. I need to call you later.
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