You Almost Died?

For many bloggers, I am sure their moms subscribe to their blogs. I am no different (thanks, Mom!) And when, in your writing, you share how you almost died or experience some other scary situation, there will definitely be a reaction from the moms. In my last blog, I mentioned how my husband and I almost died (in separate situations) within the first three months of our marriage. I could feel the question hanging out there somewhere…What?!?

Wednesday night, we had dinner plans with my mom. Her and I enjoyed conversation and spent time admiring the plants, birds and caterpillars in her garden while my husband made the meal ( a delicious pork tenderloin in her new air fryer). It wasn’t until we sat down to dinner that the question finally came out. “So, you almost died…?”

I shared my story first. As I wrote earlier, this was right at the beginning of our marriage, and I was only 20 years old. We were both enlisted in the Air Force; but as we were just married, we were still stationed at separate bases in the Florida panhandle. Since my husband had a motorcycle, we rented a trailer closer to his base than mine. This gave me about an hour and a half commute each way. It was not ideal; however, we knew it would be for short duration.

Now, when you picture our home in Florida, please don’t envision beaches and palm trees. We lived in the middle of nowhere in the interior of the panhandle which is more like Alabama than the typical image of Florida. The first significant leg of my morning commute was almost board straight – mind numbingly so. Each side of the road was a never ending wall of tall pine trees. I was required to report to my command before 6 am so it was also very early. I rarely saw any other cars, mostly just fog.

Did I mention I was young? I had a bit of a leadfoot in those days. Here we come to the part where I almost died. It was one of these early mornings with not-so-great visibility due to a light fog. Knowing I never came across other drivers, I was doing about 75 mph. For a split second in front of me on the road, there was a small flash of red. Due to its small size and its brevity, it was amazing that I saw it at all. Add in how early it was and how my brain was not fully awake, it was downright unbelievable! But I did see it and immediately applied the brakes. I came to a stop just behind a large tractor trailer hauling large logs. There were no lights on the truck. It was just parked in the middle of my lane. Had I not seen that brief flicker of light, I would have driven my car into the back of that truck at 75 mph. Curtains. Instead, my life was blessed with a miracle.

Over dinner, my husband shared his two stories. I will not tell them here for they are his stories to share. Sorry! But please know, they are just as miraculous. Neither of us thought much of any of these experiences at the time. In fact, my husband had forgotten the most spectacular of his stories! It is a great story, and I am thankful to God for its happy ending. God is good. All the time.

P.S. If you follow my blog, you may have noticed a change to the author name. Up to this time, I have been using an alias. I have decided to forego the alias thus the change.

Thank you for reading!

Precious

There have been many dark days in my life.  I understand the pain of betrayal.  I have lived where no child should have to live without some basic needs.  I know the fear of being on the wrong end of a gun.  I have been verbally, emotionally and physically beaten down.  

Yet, I now know I was never alone.  I could have been brought to an utter end but was not.  And this was before I knew Jesus.  Now that I know Him, He shows me his love for me over and over again.  And I have a new perspective looking back on those dark days.  Jesus has proven Himself faithful to me over and over again.  He has blessed my life.  Each day, He helps me to move closer to wholeness through Him.  There are no words to express my love and gratitude to Jesus for the peace and hope He has lavished on me.  

Why would He do this for me?  Because He loves me, and I am His.  I am precious in His eyes.

“Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you. For I am the Lord your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior…you are precious in my eyes, and honored, and I love you”        

Isaiah 43:1-4 ESV

Grateful Heart

Another reason to share my story and journey to healing is to give glory to my Rescuer who not only rescued me once but many times and stayed with me even in my anger.

I first met Him late in the evening and my spirit was tormented. There was no safe place, and there seemed to be no hope. I longed for death to rescue me – thinking that was my only hope. I was fourteen. All I knew was living with my parents. They were in complete control of me. I lived in the middle of no where – quite literally. I watched other girls at school drop out due to pregnancy and get married. Next time you see them, they have a kid on their hip and a black eye from their husband. If this is all life is, to trade one tormentor for another, then I don’t want any part of it. But death is scary too. My heart cried out and then my mind (so not to be heard), “Jesus please help me!” It was a cry of desperation to someone I didn’t even know. He was just that guy my parents fought about. Mom believed. Dad hated him. But almost as soon as the thought passed, I felt someone wrap their arms around me. There was no fear at being touched – only peace. Then I realized there wasn’t anyone there and sleep took me. The next morning on the school bus, the years of bottled tears started to flow. I tried desperately to stop and hide them. I needed to hide them – my life and my mom’s life depended on me keeping everything secret. But to no avail. The tears simply would not stop. My only friend cornered me and would not leave me alone. I finally gave in. “You must tell your mom.”

The story goes on from there and not with a “and they lived happily ever after.” More on that later. So why was my prayer answered? Was it because I was just a child? Was it because I called out to Jesus with every fiber of my being? Was it to save my life? I will never know this side of heaven. Maybe He saved me so He could heal me so I could help rescue others. Whatever the answer, I will forever be grateful. And I fought with Him over the next two decades, but He never let go of me. And for that, I love Him.