Jesus, Take the Wheel

This week has truly been another example of mixed blessings.  I guess they all are, if we’re honest. 

After work on Wednesday my friend Mandy and I went to say goodbye to  Granny B.  I don’t remember not knowing my best friend Tiffany’s grandmother.  She’s just been a fixture in my life; always there, always smiling, so sweet.  I’ve known Tiffany since we were little kids and Granny is someone that’s woven into my past.  There was nowhere else for me to be on that night but with the people that loved her best. 

It is all very raw and new for them now.  I don’t suppose there is ever an easy time to say goodbye to someone we love.  But I did love looking at all the pictures of the life she had lived.  It was a good one.  Filled with so much love.  So many smiles. Granny can be proud of the life she lived.  And I’m sure she’s laughing where she is now. 

When Mandy and I left, we grabbed a quick bite to eat and then jumped back on I-95 to head home.  We were chatting away as we always do, when I looked in my side mirror just in time to see the tractor trailer beside us switching lanes right into my driver’s side rear bumper. 

My car spun to the left, causing the front of the truck to connect with the driver’s door.  And then it began to push.  Looking out of my window, I was staring into the grill of a tractor trailer, and we were still moving.  The car began to bounce and all I could think was, “he’s coming up over us.”  It wasn’t a panicked thought, but one that made every muscle in my body brace for the roll of the car. 

And then it didn’t roll. 

My Ford Escape sort of dislodged, for lack of a better word, wiggled away, if you want more of a visual, from the front of the truck and we were able to pull over to the side of the road.  Very shaken.  Very scared.  Not hurt. 

Not hurt?  

We had just been hit—twice, really—by a tractor trailer, and we weren’t hurt. 

After we asked each other about 50 times if we were ok, we found the hazard lights on the car and began calling people.  Husbands, 911, in that order.  Then Mandy emailed her boss.  Because she’s that girl and I love her for it. 

The driver of the truck came up quickly and was just as shaken as we were.  When he realized Mandy was pregnant (Yes, 21 weeks.  Did I not mention that?) he had a slight panic attic.  But we were ok. 

The First Responders arrived and I could not sing their praises any higher.  Bless the Eastover Fire Department and the EMS crew that came and took such great care of us.  They talked to us and helped bring about a level of calm that I don’t know we could have achieved on our own. 

My sweet Steven showed up and gave me the best hug I think I’ve ever gotten. 

And no one seemed to be able to understand how we didn’t roll, how we were ok. 

We knew. 

It wasn’t my driving.  I didn’t drive.  As soon as that truck hit us, my feet came off both the break and the gas and one of my arms went to Mandy.  Funny, she did the “Mom-grab” to me, too.  I eventually had both hands on the wheel, but really, I let that car go where it wanted.  I didn’t drive anything.  But someone did. 

We didn’t scream or yell when we got hit.  We were quiet actually, except for two things.  Mandy saying, “we’re ok,” over and over.  And then saying, “Lord help us.  Jesus help us.”  And that’s exactly what happened.  God took care of us.  Made sure we were ok. 

People keep saying that it could have been so much worse.  The truth is that it should have been. 

But it wasn’t.  And it’s because that was not His plan.  There are no mistakes.  What happened, happened for a reason.   Exactly what it is, we may not know yet.  Or maybe it was just so I would write this, and tell you about our amazing God, that let us go toe-to-toe with a tractor trailer in a little SUV and walk away. 

Praise. 

-Jessica

P.S. As a little public service announcement, please take a look at the below diagram.  It shows blind spots that Tractor Trailer drivers have to deal with.  Give them space and be mindful of where you are.