Driving by my "Moment in Time"

It is mid-March, I am pale from never leaving the confines of my home and cabin fever has taken its toll on me.  Grocery shopping needs to be done, my husband suggests I accompany him and see how I feel while riding in the front seat.  Then we will be able to gauge how often I can make trips from home.   It is certainly a hassle to transport me because I am of no help getting into and out of our truck, but my man never complains.

As we head to Cuba, Missouri, just twelve minutes from our home, my heart clenches as my husband does not turn left towards the interstate, instead continuing to drive on the outer road, knowing we will drive the exact route of our collision.

 I have never questioned him about this decision, although I do wonder if this was an oversight or his way of urging me to overcome this obstacle.

Passing the turn off, I mentioned that I was becoming nervous due to the direction we were traveling.  Instinctively, he reached for my hand, holding, caressing my clammy skin the entire drive.  Not being clear on exactly where our desecrated pile of metal landed, Greg softly said, “Right here.” 

My eyes moved to the right side of the road, the scene looking different in the

daylight as our wreck happened under the cloak of darkness.  Railroad tracks, pine trees, pain.  Three vague memories create an ache deep within my heart.  That night, the impact, our girls quivering voices brings a heaviness to my broken soul.  Throwing me into a silent, lonely place filled with immense heavy sadness.  Each time pained thoughts of this chaos chisel through my protective wall, it overwhelms me with these emotions and I wonder how long it will take my spirit to heal.

Quietly, slowly bringing in long, deep breaths as we pass the spot in mere seconds, my body releases as if it broke from a fever.  Reaching our destination, I release my grip on Greg’s hand, rip my jacket off due to the profuse sweating happening underneath and announce, “We made it.”    

Just a week later we again headed to Cuba, but this time night has fallen.  We were attending a fundraiser my family had organized for us.  

Before I knew what was happening, I was staring into a huge set of white head lights passing by us.  Mesmerized by their intensity, my eyes becoming huge, my breathing stopped, reliving the impact at that exact moment.  As the truck was equal distance to ours, my head jerked hard to my right just as it did when we were hit that frigid evening.  Quickly realizing I was staring out my own window, we were not actually colliding and that this was just a flashback, I forced my heartbeat to slow. 

Eyes tightly squeezed shut, softly I urged,  “Greg, I need to travel more at night, to get over these feelings that I have.  I did not realize I still have so much anxiety about traveling in the dark.” 

Although this is my first expedition into the night, it would not be my last flashback under these circumstances.  If I conquered this episode of apprehension and survived to tell it, surely I could conquer the ones to come.


My largest challenge is just that, challenging myself too hard, too early.

Stronger than Yesterday FB

Four Years in the Making

     Never has four years moved so slow and so fast at the same time.  Turning around to look back at my life during those years, it has sped by.  How can four years have passed so quickly?  Breaking the years down into each of eleven surgeries, those days passed at a crawl.

      Reflecting often during my days working on the farm, I ask myself, " Now that you are at the end of your recovery, what would you change regarding your experience?"  This is not a quick answer to be spat out, it requires digging deep within, to a place usually reserved for those few times in our lives when something rocks us to our core.  So I sit and get real with myself.  

     Would I change anything?   Of course I wish the collision would not have happened, but that was not in my control.  I am well educated in pain, but it keeps me humble.  The journey was long and hard, but look at the life lessons I have reaped.   My family has endured this time with me as I healed my broken body, but they have learned how to pull together when times are tough.  This one single event has caused incredible amounts of pain for many, but for myself,  it has given me a better home in life.  

      Physically I am handicapped, but emotionally and spiritually, I am in a area that I have never been before.  God is not one to pass up opportunity.  He has given us freedom to choose so he could not stop the collision, but he took the time to present to me an opportunity to work on myself, my relationship with others and my relationship with Him.  Again, it was my choice to accept this convenience, but I know He tugged at me diligently to walk in His direction.  

     The year has closed and a new year has just begun.  I have no idea how I will write this next segment of my life and for once I am not going to plan it out.  I will live and learn as I go.  I will appreciate the gift of my own life and I will believe in myself.  Not having an outline will be a contrast for me as I am letting Him lead me, but I do feel a bit of excitement at the unknown.  With Him as my escort, I am no longer afraid.  I guess my answer is, no.  Even I shake my head at that conclusion, but this is what I feel.

      Although I have never asked the question, "Why?" this happened to me, while recovering I did not understand why the path had to be so difficult.  Until now.   

We would never listen unless it was.