Two Cars

I was so glad to learn that our new pastoral intern’s wife, Jane, was a crafter. In the course of getting to know her, she mentioned the decorated mirrors she made. I shared with her about my teddy bears. I used all manner of recycled materials and gave most of my bears away as gifts. Jane had bigger ideas, however, and asked if I’d ever done a craft fair. She had learned of one in a neighboring state and wondered if I’d like to take a table with her. Boy, would I! I got busy making more bears, and two weeks later we were on our way to Massachusetts, about an hour’s drive.

We took two cars, each packed up with our craft items. We left early and there was a light rain falling and thought that a good thing as it would encourage people to attend the indoor event. And that’s what happened. Each of us sold a respectable amount of our crafts which paid for the table and gave us some pocket money. We packed up and exited the building noting that the rain was falling harder now. We happily dashed to our cars and I told Jane I’d lead the way.

It was getting dark and we had to navigate through some hills, but we made good time. We were only a short distance from the road where we would part ways when we came over short rise, and I noticed with alarm that a low spot just ahead was deep in water. Too late I saw the headlights of an oncoming car and realized we were going to hit that spot at the same time. It was coming on so fast I had no time to think.

I couldn’t slow down quickly with Jane close behind, and I couldn’t swerve to either side of the road. I held tightly to the steering wheel as huge plumes of water, like ocean waves, shot up from the force of two cars hitting the water at once and gasped, “Lord, save me!” The plumes were illuminated by each car’s high beams, and then there was only water and blinding light. I was frozen with fear, but in three or four terrifying seconds, it was all over. Our cars had hit the water but not each other.

My immediate thought was of Jane. With heart hammering I pulled into a nearby side road and stopped. I saw her headlights in my rearview mirror and rolled down my window. She was instantly beside me and grabbed my hand, looking to the sky. “Thank you, Father,” she said with great fervor. I couldn’t even speak. After we’d calmed down, we continued our journey home, so very thankful for a God who watches over us even when we’re paralyzed with fear.

Susan Sundwall writes from New York.

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