I don't have these moments often, these instants of recognition that I am out of control of my destiny. But on Wednesday morning, coming down Hemlock Hill a little too fast in the freezing rain, I lost control of the Mazda, and my life.
At one point in the skid, when my "turn into the skid" training kicked in, I thought I had it back. But then the car spun the other direction, faster, and I knew I had lost it.
In these moments I have heard that it's universal human experience to have one's life flash before one's eyes. Well, either I'm not human or it's not universal, because dollar signs and insurance premiums flashed before my eyes. Then I was on the side of the road.
In that stretch of the road there are ditches on both sides. And telephone poles. I saw one of the stoic brown posts awaiting my arrival, looking down with sad resignation as the right front side of the car slid across the wrong side of the road. Ten feet, five feet, two feet, then six inches. And then I stopped. With one front tire over the frozen-grass drop-off of the ditch, the Mazda sat still, six inches from mechanical and financial catastrophe, and I thanked the Lord. Thank you, Lord, for the invisible hands with a hard enough grip to keep the car on the road, and a soft enough grip to make me remember my mistake.
A car had followed me down the hill, driven by a wiser person. She did not skid or slip, but she stopped and backed up. I had left the car and surveyed the situation.
"Do you need a ride somewhere?" she asked.
"No," I said. Then, emboldened by adrenaline, "but if you can drive stick, maybe we can get my car back on the road."
She said she could drive standard, so she backed her car into a driveway and sat down in my driver's seat.
With her hands and feet in the car, and mine in the ditch and on the front bumper, we had the car on the road in less than a minute.
"Looks like it'll be a good day," she said as she relinquished the car to me again.
"Yes, it will," I said. I proferred my hand. "My name's Emrys. Thank you so much."
"I'm Diane. You're welcome."
I believe in angels. Praise the Lord for them. The ones with names--kudos to Diane--and the ones who remain unseen.
~emrys
5 comments:
Praise God for His protection (of you and the car) and His provision (with Miss Diane). Please take care of yourself Emrys!
Praise God that all ended well, and that he even provided someone who could drive standered to help.I have been in a couple of those situations before and understand the dollar signs passing in front of your face.
On a side note in 16 years it might be a good idea to let Sara teach the kid how to drive.
Oh, Emrys, this brought tears to my eyes and a serious tightening to heart. Praising God for sending angels to protect you, as I'm sure Sara is, too!!
BTW, I don't know Midge, but she might have deep wisdom in who should teach "The Kid" how to drive! No offense, of course. You might be older (a given) and wiser (for sure!!) by then.
All kidding aside, we all make errors of judgment from time to time, but thankfully God sometimes reaches down to protect us from those blips!!
Thanks for the tip, Midge. I'm hoping that 16 years from now, I'll be a better driver (or the cars will be so automated that we won't even be "driving" anymore!).
emrys
I suspect Sara would willingly offer driving lessons now:)
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