The Hopewell House

So where to start with this post....

Wow, it's been an emotional week.

Last Saturday I had met D in Circleville at an event for his job; after the event, we were planning on meeting up with my family for dinner to celebrate my uncle's birthday.  D & I drove separately so I ended up following him home to get both of our cars back to the house. On the way home, I was going down a small country road and my car went a little bit off to the right of the road and my tire caught on the road's edge. To get my car back onto the road, I attempted to correct the car, but because of D's Element being top heavy, I lost control of the car, started swerving on the road and ended up flipping three times into a ditch. Somehow a telephone pole stopped the car and I ended up landing on the passenger's side of the car.

Everything happened so fast... I remembered hanging there in my seat thinking, Oh my gosh, I'm alive. I'm fine, I know I'm fine. I won't lie, I started getting a little freaked out at first once I realized I was hanging in my seat only by my seatbelt. I kept thinking am I going to get out? How am I going to get out? Is the car going to catch on fire? So, I put the car in park. No, I didn't turn off the car, but it was in park...on its side...I don't know, somehow at the time it just seemed like a good idea to put my car in park. The funny thing is, in that moment of fear, I remember hearing D's voice. It was panicky, but somehow it brought me comfort. I knew he was there, and I knew he was going to get me out. Everything was going to be okay. Sure enough, Dave climbed up over the car, climbed in, and got me out. It kind of put a whole new meaning on the term "knight in shining armor." I always knew that in a moment of need, or disaster, or conflict D would take care of me...I always knew he would save me if I needed saving...But it really hit home when I remember holding onto him knowing he was going to protect me and take care of me...It gives love this whole new type of intimacy. 

It's crazy as I think back on that day, so many emotions come to mind and I still sit here amazed that I'm alive. I walked away from a crash that realistically I should not have walked away from with just a few minor bumps and bruises. The police officer who showed up to the scene that day was amazed that I was perfectly fine, stating that this was not the norm for these type of accidents he's seen.

There's just so much from that day I'm trying to process. I think about how D's car for the last few years hasn't latched at the top of the car, but we never got it fixed because the bottom latches still worked and we were too cheap to fix the upper latch. That broken latch made it possible that day to get out of the car. It kept the window from completely cracking. The top part of my roof got crunched in a little, but the door remained intact. I think about how somehow my car flipped those three times but I never went head first into that telephone poll. The airbags never went off. I think about how no one was coming down that road as I was swerving out of control. They were far enough away that no one else was hurt. I think about how I looked at the car and all the sides were crushed in, the roof was damaged, and the windows were out EXCEPT the driver's side. My part of the roof was mostly intact, my window were not cracked, and I was fine. Our friend Aaron said it was like I was in this metal box, this perfectly formed box that remained fine. I know God was looking out for me that day; he was protecting me. So many little things could have gone wrong, gone different...but...they didn't.

In makes me really question why, why did I survive? What's my purpose? I feel there's a much deeper reason for my existence, that God has something in store for my life. I feel so unworthy of this opportunity and I know that on Saturday I was given another chance to live.

I'm so very blessed, so very loved...

That's a lot to try to take in and to try to understand...

As I've been processing through all of this, on Tuesday I found out I lost another friend to such a similar type of tragedy. My friend Ben was in a car wrecked and ended up losing his life. To be honest, I haven't worked through this one yet. I keep running through thoughts of sadness, anger, and questioning. It's so hard to understand how we can lose someone at such a young age. Ben was so full of life, he had so much to offer this world, and I just can't fully understand why he's gone. It's hard to think he's not here anymore; no more Ben-like craziness, no more jokes, no more goofiness. It's been a few years since I last saw Ben, but I always knew that when I would see him again, things wouldn't have changed... he'd still be the same ol' lovable Ben. He played such a huge part in my high school experience and I have a hard time accepting I won't see him at our high school reunions...that I won't see him again. I just wish I could have talked to him one last time...

Then as I working through these next set of emotions, D got a call from Jake on Wednesday night saying he got hit by a car when he was coming home from work. As we pull up to the scene, there sat half of Jake's car. The front of the car was okay, the back was completely crunched in. As Jake was waiting to get off onto his exit, he ended up getting rear-ended by a drunk driver who was going about 50-60 miles per hour. The truck rammed Jake's car forward about 200 yards down the side of the highway and the truck itself went off into the woods. Luckily, no one was injured; Jake had saw in the rearview mirror that the car was coming at him, and he quickly moved his car slightly to the right so it wouldn't hit the other cars in front of him. There was a little girl in the car in front of Jake, I'm pretty sure that day he saved her life. And even more, I don't know what I would have done if I would have lost another friend that day; honestly, I don't know if I could have handled it.

And amidst all this, there's been the Boston Marathon bombing. Honestly, I haven't even had much time to process this event. Thinking about it just makes me sick, how can someone do something so heinous? How could they take these precious lives and how do they not even feel some tinge of guilt killing people, especially innocent children.

These last few days have brought so much sadness, so much reflection...needless to say, I'm hoping for an easy, quiet weekend so I can cope, so I can process. I want to take a long run to really think over things, I want to feel like I can finally get some comforting sleep, and I just want to live in the thankfulness of another day.

How do you find comfort in difficult times? 

What helps you process?