He's not finished with me yet!

The car had been sitting in the pouring rain for almost 3 hours in stand-still traffic before finally breaking past the police officer who was blocking the left lane and slowing things down. It couldn't have been more than 5 or 10 minutes of steady driving before the accident happened. The car was moving along about 60 mph when the driver felt it begin to drift to the right. The driver tried to make a correction with the steering wheel, hesitated on hitting the brake, and then instinct took over. The tap on the brake sent the car further to the right; an adjustment in the opposite direction with the wheel made minimal difference, and with a second push on the brake pedal, the car swung the rest of the way to the right and the driver knew the vehicle was no longer under control. The driver was oriented enough to know the car had completed a 180 and was now sliding backwards and down into the ditch.

The sound of rock raking and cutting into glass drowned out the sound of the driver shouting, "Please, Lord Jesus; God protect me. Jesus, please."
Even that wasn't enough to drown out the thoughts.

Is this it? What is going to happen before the car stops?

The interior grew darker, signifying that the car had turned upside down, and it continued to slide a few more feet, rock scraping metal now, until coming to a stop.

Still here. Gotta get out of the car.
"Okay calm down; stay calm and think."
The driver's mind and mouth were in competition.

Gotta get out; how do people stay in here for hours?
"No, just get calm and think."
I need out of here.
"Lord, please just get me out of here. Please let me out of here!"

Recalling a previous wreck, the driver reached for the window button to roll it down.

Can get out the window. Ok.
Turn the car off.
"Stay calm."

Hearing that the car was still running, the driver reached out a finger and hit the keyless start button, then kicked of the remaining, dangling flip flop.

Seat belt.

Releasing the seat belt made the driver realize things were still upside down.
The first attempt out the driver side window was unsuccessful -- the bank was too close and too steep.

"Lord, please, don't let me stay in here. Just get me outta here."
Think. Cell phone. Other side.

The driver reached up, no, down; there was a gaping hole where the ash tray and cell phone had flung out. Then, crawling across the black and shattered sunroof to the other side, the driver envisioned a vehicle stopped in the middle of the intersection in front of her apartment complex. Not too many months ago, this had been the scene of an accident where the operator of the vehicle had to be cut out by emergency services because the door of their car had been pushed in by a side-on collision. Now the image pushed into the forefront of this driver's mind as she reached for the window button on the passenger side.... down, no, up.

Almost to freedom, she slid out and up the rocky, muddy slope on her stomach, rain hitting her face as she emerged from the cover of the upside down vehicle. Turning around, her back against the slippery, jagged slope, she sat down on a rock ledge and pushed up with her arms behind her, releasing her legs from the gaping window. In an effort to get far from the vehicle, she turned, climbed a foot or two and sat again.

Looking down through the rain from a few feet above the metal bottom of the car, heart racing, breathing out the deepest breath since the car first lost control, I put my elbows on my knees, my face in my hands and cried, "Thank you, Lord; Oh Lord, thank you, thank you, thank you!"

A young man's voice shouted, "Are you okay? Is anyone else in the vehicle?" I looked up already knowing two cars had pulled over just up the interstate; I patted my legs and said, "I'm fine. There's no one else, just me." They immediately began calling 911, and one of the ladies helped me climb down from the wet, rocky, embankment and across the ditch which was quickly filling ankle-deep with water from the downpour. The young man, in scrubs, looked at me eyes wide and repeated 2 or 3 more times in disbelief, "Are you sure you're okay?"
He walked me to his car and waited with me for the police to arrive. He was a doctor in his residency at Vanderbilt, and soon began asking me questions and assessing whether my answers were coherent.
It was a long time before I was able to make decent conversation with the doctor. I gave him only quick responses before checking the wreckage over my shoulder again and again through the passenger window of his upright SUV. I could only wonder how I just crawled out from that mess. Without a single scratch. Not a cut, not a bruise, no pain... Nothing. The answer to his question came the same each time... I'm fine...

My hands were unsteady and I wrung them til they were dry. My clothes were sopping wet and my hair clung to me, drenched from the rain. I wasn't cold but I shook to the bone. The sight of my car made my stomach turn, and my head began to ache. A thousand thoughts raced through my mind, none of which I can remember, except that I wanted to throw up, and also that my parents were nearly a hundred miles away. And then, something that had been repeating in my mind over and over finally pushed it's way to the surface and took on its lyrical form like a thunderbolt jarring my mind to the reality of what actually just happened: God brought me out of the wreckage, unharmed, for a reason.


There is hope for me yet
Because God won't forget
all the plans He's made for me
I'll have to wait and see
He's not finished with me yet

The words to Brandon Heath's new song rang so clearly in my mind, I thought I must have been listening to it on the radio when I lost control of the car for it to keep repeating in my head the way that it was. (I later found out I was, in fact, listening to a rap station ;-) )

40 minutes passed before the police arrived, and the young doctor went on his way. 2 cops came and went, and the ambulance and fire department vehicles came, fulfilled their duties and left. The wrecker came, flipped the car; I unloaded my things, moved them to the remaining police car; and the wrecker was on his way with what was left of my car.

Both bumpers had been dragged off. The driver's side was cut deeply by the rocks, the back door pushed in. The roof and windshield from the top center of the car all the way across the driver side was spiderwebbed and mashed in. No airbags deployed; I had been protected only by my seatbelt, and the hands of my Father.
At the wreck site, I stood, nauseated, and stared for a long hour at the sharp-edged embankment covered by unearthed mud and the long grasses and sticks that were pulled in the direction of my car for a good ten yards at least. I could and can still hear the rock scraping the glass. Every detail, every thought you read (among others) plays out clearly in my mind. The most pressing of all: Is this it?

Well, that wasn't it. And knowing just a couple of days ago my breath of existence was questionable -- friend, I can't explain to you what it's like to live and breath and walk with the factual assurance that God kept me on earth for a reason. I'll be thankful if next time I can be assured by faith alone; and hopefully God won't have to flip me upside down to remind me each day that I'm still here means that my Kingdom work is not yet complete.

Phil 1:6
"...being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus. "
Jer 29:11
"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."