Six weeks ago, I rolled the family vehicle. Despite the title, I wasn’t on my phone. I have never been in an accident like that, so it really shook me up. I wouldn’t say that it was a near death experience or anything, because I, and our beautiful unborn baby, were completely unharmed. Not a scratch. But it was still very scary. It seemed like I was spinning in slow motion, and I can still remember my completely random thoughts.
Oh great. Now the baby will be breech again.
Oh man. My kids are going to miss me so much. (My hubby is really handsome, and I know that he will find a much better replacement. If this comment is still here at posting, he didn’t make me delete it.)
Please, Lord, I don’t want it to hurt. I don’t mind coming to see you, but I really don’t want to hurt. (Apparently, I have an aversion to pain.)
I wasn’t afraid to die. I remember thinking in the days after, wow. I have such peace about where I am in my life. I know where I’m going, who I will get to see again. I know I am exactly where the Lord wants me. There is such comfort in that. It was beautiful to read messages from friends who were worried, and to know how loved I am. My heart was filled to overflowing with love from everyone on facebook, phone calls, hugs from friends. What an overwhelming time that was- but a good kind. I didn’t know how much I meant to some people. I heard over and over, how blessed I was, how God had his hand on me. All true, obviously. And I love having a God that looks after every part of my life.
I know a lot of people who have died in accidents. And a lot that have lost people that they love. I have been following some old friends of mine on facebook who have lost a sister, a daughter, at way too young an age. Are they not blessed? Where was God there? Do I presume to answer that question in a random blog, when I have absolutely no theology training, and when even those who do, cannot come close to justifying this very question with a quick answer? No. I know God loves me as much as that little girl, her family, and all His children. I know His plans for me are very different than his plans for anyone else. I can’t compare them to anyone else’s. I know that nothing comes to me that God hasn’t allowed. And I know that every single thing that God allows, good and bad, is for my overall good, even if I don’t understand it.
And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose. Romans 8:28
And I know these things are true for my friends. The ones that said goodbye way too early, and live in heartache everyday. Their plan is much different than mine, but God knows both their pain, and why He has allowed it. This is a very basic, yet so difficult, part of our Christian faith.
So now I am left to wonder. What was the point of this completely random event? I have prayed through a lot of my fears, like if I were to die, what would happen to my family? To our children? And I know that God loves them more than I do, and that He would make His purpose known eventually. Don’t get me wrong. They really like me. I rarely go to the bathroom without attempted social visits. I am the only one who can find things, who knows the daily schedule, and can completely erase nightmares and boo-boos. I know I would be missed. Their hearts would break. There would be a gaping hole. But I have complete faith that God knows this. And He will take care of them, better than I can anyways! The thought of leaving my family still frightens me, but I know that God would be stepping in to take my place. And He has some mighty small shoes to fill!
It wasn’t to make me write out a bucket list. It wasn’t to deal with my fear of death. I may be afraid of pain, but who likes it? There’s treatment for that! No, it was to help me live. I am not afraid to die, but now I wonder if I have been really, honest-to-goodness living.
I forgot to mention that my cellphone has been broken for a week. No internet (till my HH comes home at night!) no contact numbers, no Words with Friends. How on earth is this related? Now I feel like I’m getting it.
I need to live, and by living, simply be.
To be in the moment with our children.
To spot a disagreement, before it’s a fight.
To watch them engrossed in an activity.
To focus on one thing at a time.
In the novel I’m reading right now, the old lady says, “I don’t know why folks say they’re so busy. In my day we didn’t call it busy. We called it living.” I pride myself on my ability to multitask. I can plan meals for the week, read a story to the Pretty One, and nurse our Beautiful One, get up to answer the phone, and swing right back into things without missing a beat. I never realized I was missing the Pretty One’s expression, or the way she knows what’s coming in the story. Or the sound of the Beautiful One sucking contentedly. I needed this stupid phone to break to realize the price I was paying to try and beat my friends score, even though I had only vowels. To know the weather for the week, but not how the fight started. I took pictures, but I didn’t live the memories.
I was never glued to my phone. I was only on for a few minutes at a time, at random times during the day when the kids were busy with something, or I had my coffee times. It sounds so ridiculously cliche, and maybe this is all for me, and no one else will ever get anything out of it. Maybe the point of this is to humble myself, and tell you that this is an area I didn’t know was an issue for me. All I know is that I needed to tell it. Six weeks ago I rolled my car, last week I broke my phone, and although this week has been so hard, filled with no sleep. sickness, laundry, screaming children, and a couple bouts of Mommy crying, I know one thing for certain.
I didn’t miss a thing.