I was driving home from church with my radio on and my head in the clouds. I had traveled less than two blocks when my head abruptly dropped from the clouds and focused on the road ahead. In a split second I realized that the gigantic black SUV in front of me was not turning, but was at a dead stop, hazard lights flashing.
And I was headed straight for it and there was no way my breaks were going to stop in time. The next couple minutes are still fuzzy, I remember careening off the side of the road, Galahad skidding through the grassy ditch, and frantically jerking the wheel to the left until we stopped perpendicular to the road.
In one piece.
In those brief moments the thought uppermost in my mind was, "If I total my car, how on earth am I going to replace it?"
Followed by, "If I hit that telephone pole, I am going to die. Or get whiplash. I never wanted to get whiplash again".
I sat staring at the road, mentally checking through some sort of list. Head - hurt. Car - seems ok. Is that dude still sitting in his SUV? I almost hit him!!!
Okay, no need to freak out. I think I can drive us over the curb and back on the road. Why is no one stopping? It's okay. We should be fine.
As I glanced to the left I saw the skid marks that Galahad had left in the ditch. That decided it - I called my folks, who were getting ready to leave church after Dad had locked up.
Dad did his magical engineering back-up routine and got Galahad back up on the road. As he drove me home, I just kept thinking how grateful I was. I was okay. Galahad was mostly okay - further inspection revealed a compromised tire. (And we both might benefit from a visit to a chiropractor...)
All I could say was, "I can't believe I'm okay. I can't believe Gally is okay."
I am so grateful.
But mostly grateful...
"Behold, He who keeps Israel shall neither slumber or sleep. The Lord is your Keeper..."
- Psalm 121:4 - 5a