Seventeen of us spent three days at my sister Becky's house for a girls only weekend before our niece Brooke's wedding in March. We had the best time ever being all wadded up while shopping, eating, and looking at old wedding photos. It was a great time. On Sunday the exodus began with seven peeps leaving while others were staying until Tuesday so we could celebrate my daughter Emma's 21st birthday on Monday. The weekend flew by as did the birthday celebration and before we knew it, it was Tuesday and time to go home. My three girls and I left Becky and Keith's house at 11:20 knowing we had several stops to make on the way out of town. It's one of the things I hate the most because after three hours of running errands, we still had 5 hours of highway to travel to get home, so at 2:00 we were on our way out of town. My sister Melanie, two of her girls and Grandma, who all left after us, were now ahead by about an hour. Well, when the Turners got to Shreveport, they became ensnared in traffic due to a wreck, and gave us a heads up which caused us to decide to take the loop around the city. By the time we left Shreveport, our two cars were now only 4 miles apart. As we passed a sign saying 70 miles to home, I got in the left lane to pass an 18 wheeler and I felt something weird. I was just about to tell the girls something was wrong when I heard a pop and was immediately fighting to keep my car in my lane. The 18 wheeler was right beside me, but a little ahead and I think the driver saw what was taking place because the truck sped up and moved out of our way. What in reality only took seconds seemed like forever until finally the car was stopped safely on the side of the highway. And we were alive. Never in all my years of driving has that ever happened to me. And once I knew we were still, safe and sound, I couldn't speak. I was shaking so much I couldn't get my bearings.
As I tried to gather myself, the girls jumped out to see what had happened.
The front right tire had blown and was shredded completely. We had ridden on the rim to the side of the road and somehow, miraculously lived to tell about it.
The girls and I quickly began the task of getting the tools out to change the tire, but before we could even begin, a state trooper stopped to help us.
He was so nice, and quickly began the tire changing for us. This is freaking unbelievable to look at and know that we didn't have a wreck.
By this time, Melanie and her peeps had turned around and come back to check on us, and it seemed as if we'd get on the road quickly.
But the remaining strips of rubber from the tire were wedged in, and no amount of pulling would make it come loose.
After much effort on the part of Brian, the trooper, we discussed my options and then called a tow truck to take my car the rest of the way home.
The girls rode with Melanie while I rode with Kenny the tower.
By the time I got home, it was 8:30, 2 1/2 hours late but alive.
Now that the facts of the incident are out of the way, I'll address what I've thought about since Tuesday. There's no doubt in my mind that God supernaturally helped me get my car safely to the side of the road. I believe God moved the trucker out of the way so we had a clear path to the roadside. He sent THE nicest policeman to help us, who called a good ole boy named Kenny to take me and my car the rest of the way home. People like them help renew my faith in the goodness of people. There really are lots of good and decent people in the world trying to do the best they can, but we rarely hear of them. And if Melanie hadn't been close by to come get my girls, we'd have been in a mess trying to get home with all of our stuff. Even though the stuff didn't matter AT ALL. And here's another thing. My family ALWAYS prays before we get on the highway. Before each trip and after all of us are in the car, we pray. Last Tuesday, I forgot. Which reminds me that God has grace and mercy even when I forget. He never forgets me.
And so this week I've thanked God over and over that my girls and I weren't in a hospital or that John wasn't planning funerals. I've prayed for Brian and his family, especially after I read that a trooper in Washington state was shot and killed during a routine traffic stop. I can't imagine sending my husband into harm's way every day of his life. If you can, remember Brian and Kenny and their families in your prayers, as well as all those who help to keep us safe. They really are valiant people.
So the trip to Dallas was fun filled, but now, for another reason, I'll never forget it. I'm not sure I can ever be grateful enough. But I'm very thankful to God for my happy ending, because I know not everyone gets theirs. And the thought of that breaks my heart.
Thank you Lord for my happy ending.
1 comment:
Thank you Jesus!! scary moments on the side of the highway with cars screaming by. So very thankful!!
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