crash

This morning on my way to work, I began approaching stand-still traffic ahead, and before I knew it, there were cars filing in behind me, and I realized I would be stuck for a while, unable to turn around. To be completely honest, my first thoughts were that of sheer frustration, especially after all the back-to-school traffic I'd found myself trudging through yesterday on College Road—and especially since I had hoped to get into work early this morning and get a lot of stuff done. Do, do, do; go, go, go.

That's when I noticed the blue lights, the glass on the road, the ambulance and the fire trucks.

I was about five or so cars back and couldn't actually see what had happened, but I did catch a glimpse of a smashed hood, and with the collision of my own small thoughts with this glaring vision of the bigger picture, I prayed immediately. I have always said a quick prayer at the sight of a wreck, but especially since the horrible motorcycle accident I witnessed last year, my genuine concern for total strangers has elevated exponentially, and like any accident I've seen since, I shuddered in empathy and horror as my thoughts escorted me back to that time and place...

I was no longer worried about lost time or my own impatience but suddenly keenly aware of just how quick and fragile life can be. My prayer became that God's presence would fill every space of that situation: from inside the ambulance, to the room at the hospital where the doctors would be working with healing hands, to the place in which a family member(s) might be when they received a phone call in the near future about the status of their loved one. I have no idea the extent of accident, whether or not either driver walked away without a scrape or whether it was really bad—but I did know right then that God's hands were on the situation. He knew when I didn't have to, and so all I could think to pray for was His presence.

Just like the Spanish worship CD I was playing in my car, the words of which were totally incomprehensible to me, I sat not knowing exactly what was going on ahead but sure that God was in it.

Soon, I was able to make a left U-turn at the adjacent stoplight and was on my way again, on a different road toward work. No matter how small or huge the outcome of that wreck might have been, of course I wished it hadn't happened at all, and I pray for the complete well-being of all those involved. But I also took it as an opportunity to be reminded. Reminded that I, we, are always in God's care and His presence. So many times it takes something loud and large and jarring to make us hyper-sensistive of the awareness that we are in His hands, completely dependent on He who does not take his eyes off us for one single second. His presence is everywhere: all the time, in every thing, in every place. And His presence—as opposed to the absence of conflict—is peace.