The Crash
As I drive on the highway toward my daughter’s new home, a dorm room on the University of Iowa’s campus I can’t help but reflect. This van is nothing more than a clunker, by the world’s standards. The rearview window wipers make a screeching sound as they knock off the dust from our gravel road, but I can finally see the traffic behind me. Frowning, I notice the driver’s side mirror is cracked and pushed in making it useless to me. The mirror had a history of damage. Through past mishaps, it had been cracked and even knocked off and replaced. Once again it was damaged, but this time it was my fault. With both hands on the wheel, audibly I thank God for this homely vehicle. By the grace of God it still has life to get me from point A to point B, especially after the incident. As I recall the memory, I shift in my seat still feeling the bruise on my backside.
It happened last Monday night around 8:15 PM. Brad had a board meeting so he was not home when I returned. Inside Lydia was watching Disney Jr.’s: Puppy Dog Pals, with Judah on the basement couch. I had pulled up onto the driveway toward our garage. The sun was setting casting a shadow on the closed garage door. In the hazy light of dusk, I fished through the messy counsel for the garage door opener. “Where did it go?” I thought. Shrugging to myself I decided to get out of the van and go through the side door of the garage to press the garage door button within.
Simple enough, right?
When the garage door started to open, I went back out of the side door. In shock, I saw the light blue van moving on its own toward the opening garage door.
“What is going on? I thought.
Then I realized somehow on the incline, I had not shifted gears to put the van in park. I ran toward the van trying to jump in and stop it as the garage door continued to ascend. The van propelling by itself just grazed the bottom of the door as it entered the garage on its own. Inside our other van was parked. As I tried to get close enough to open the van door I suddenly slipped and fell, smack on my bottom. The tire just passed by my leg.
Inside the garage, the ghost driver missed our other “piece of work” van by an inch. Luckily when I pulled up a few minutes earlier with the garage door down I had a good idea of where the other van was parked. As I stood watching the ghost van making its uninvited way into the garage I waited to hear the sickening crunch of an unstoppable collision. Missing the parked van, it hit the heavy work-out equipment. From my position on the cement, I watched with a grimace as the van hit the Lat pull-down machine starting a chain reaction. The machine was then pushed into the Elliptical machine which then pushed the rowing machine into the hot tub. The pile-up stopped the van but as I observed the dent in the hot tub I expected a huge tidal wave to erupt at any moment.
With the van stopped though still idling in drive, I assessed the situation. It was so close to the other van I couldn’t open the door let alone get my body between them. That is when the revelation hit me: if I had tried to get into the driver’s seat I could have been crushed between the two vans. Still, I worried about the damage I had just made. Quickly I got the keys to the unscathed van backing it up and out of the garage. This time I not only shifted the gears into park, but I also shut off the van entirely. As I finally opened the driver’s side door of the crashed light blue van, now tangled in exercise equipment, I slowly backed it out.
In reverse, a bike hanging from a hook above started to fall onto the hood. Shifting into park (Shutting it off) I ran into the house to get Lydia’s help. My bottom was stinging from the fall, as I called to her from the top of the stairs. When she assessed the damage she asked if I was ok. Together we moved the bike then I backed the van out carefully.
Nothing happened.
Together we tried to pull the exercise equipment out of the side of the hot tub, but we weren’t strong enough. The Hot tub still hadn’t exploded and no smoke was rising from the front of the van. In fact, to my surprise, I couldn’t see any new dents at all. This van had looked pretty bad, to begin with, but I was grateful I didn’t make it worse. We already had a few run-ins with deer along with some other mishaps. The only thing to be damaged was the already cracked driver’s side mirror. It again was pushed into the van. Because it had already been cracked I couldn’t tell if it had received more damage.
Now, the hot tub is my husband’s pride and joy. So we slowly, fearfully, approached it looking for seeping water. To our surprise, the dent in the hot tub wall didn’t seem to be at a place that harmed the hot tub at all. But we were not strong enough to move the equipment, so I tried to call Brad.
It went straight to voice mail. But as I waited I felt concerned, What if there was an unseen problem with the hot tub? Thinking quickly I texted one of His board members:
Text: Hi, trying to get a hold of Brad. I have had a crash.
That did it, he soon called and came home. After moving the exercise and weight equipment, we discovered the damage to the hot tub was superficial, and even the Elliptical machine still worked. The crash had turned out to be very uneventful, yet I heard a whisper in my heart from God.
“Dianne, I see you.”
Lately, I had been battling negative thoughts. The work of the ministry was challenging. I doubted I was even making a difference. In the gloomy haze of discouragement, I felt disgruntled to still have two worn-out vans. Where was the extra money for a new vehicle? I was feeling stuck, unseen, and underappreciated.
Unwanted questions rolled around in my mind: Did it really matter if I served God? I found my thoughts repeatedly drifting back to my 20-year-old self who signed up for the ministry with a heart ablaze for God. She hadn’t gone through all the church crap yet. She had no idea that she would go to college to become a minister, graduate, and then spend the next 20 years wondering if she had what it took to truly succeed.
No, she didn’t know and wouldn’t have cared because serving God was her highest aim.
Twenty-four years later, I have been tempted to look for new employment. (It is hard not to delete this part.)
I feel like I have plastered a smile on my face when life hasn’t been very kind, and the smile sometimes gets on my nerves. So what do you do when you realize that you have spent your life working for God and it doesn’t feel worth it?
Do you quit?
Or do you dig deeper?
As I stood by my husband in the aftermath of the crash I realized if I hadn’t been knocked on my rump at that moment I could have been seriously hurt, or even killed in a dumb accident. But I believe, God knocked me off my feet. I have a bruise to remind me how fragile life and health really are.
I know that to get through this frustration in life and calling I have to look back at my younger self and trust her. I have to look up to God and trust Him. I have to look out at my present situation and gain eyes to see how God shows He truly sees me.
When I related this story and revelation to my now wise, Freshman in college, she said, “Mom do you really think God cares that much about you? That instead of solving world hunger, he stopped to make sure your hot tub wasn’t destroyed in your driving blunder?”
It seems silly, doesn’t it? It is absurd that God would care for every detail of my life, right?
But my heart knows He does.
“Don’t worry about anything; instead, pray about everything. Tell God what you need, and thank him for all he has done. Then you will experience God’s peace, which exceeds anything we can understand. His peace will guard your hearts and minds as you live in Christ Jesus.”
Jesus Christ is my Savior. Jesus Christ is the Lord of my life. I decided over 24 years ago to serve him with my whole being. Sometimes in serving Him, I have felt the sting of rejection. I have failed miserably at times, and somehow I found the strength to pick up the pieces and keep going. Oh, but by the grace of God, I am still standing. After the crash in my garage, I realized I really don’t have as much control over my life as I thought. In a moment everything can change. Only God can see the end from the beginning, so no matter what, I will trust Him. I have decided to follow Jesus.
No turning back.
Here in the present, as I drive on the highway, the van accelerates without any problem. Judah is sittings quietly in his seat. He trusts me to get him to his sister without a crash, and honestly, I have faith I can too. Every day, I live with the faith that I will see tomorrow, we all do. As I drive I realize as much as my heart wants to cry out, “God do you see me?”
He whispers back, “Dianne, do you have eyes to see how I see you?”
I realize I am already forgetting how God brought me through that Monday accident without any real damage. So right now I choose to praise Him. As I lift my voice I feel the joy.
Yes, God, I see how You see me, so I am writing this down today as an act of remembrance.