Rising above

About two months after Ben was born, Will and I, and our newborn were driving on an interstate at night.  As we headed towards an intersection, I watched the light turn yellow. My immediate instinct was to tell Will to run through it. I knew his instinct would be the opposite. As we slowed to a stop we watched the car in front of us fly through the intersection to beat the light. In a horrible miscalculation a truck turning left turned too soon and glided right into the car in front of us going about 60 mph. You can imagine the scene that followed.  The truck pushed the car across the intersection and into a lightpost. As we pulled over to help- Will jumped out of the car to find out more about the causualties of those inside the car.  I stayed in the car with Ben. I felt so helpless and vunerable at that minute. I knew lives were hanging in the balance and I knew our families lives had been inches away from being a part of that horrible scene. Will returned after seeing there was little to do but wait until the paramedics came. I jumped out to see if there was any comfort I could offer, along with crowds of others who had gathered. Inside of the car was a young woman and young man. The woman dazed and out of it, the man covered in blood from his head having gone through the windshield. I too quickly found out there was little I could do, but wait.

Why do I bring this story up, after so long? It was the only way I could illustrate some of my feelings right now. I feel so vunerable, and a little scared. But there isn't a whole lot I can do to fix things. My gratitude and worry for my small family has increased tenfold over the past few weeks. I thanked my husband a hundred times since that day- that he did not run that yellow light-- but it was still unnerving how close we had been to a worse fate. I cringed for a half a year after that everytime I saw a yellow light and of course stopped immediately. Just as with the car crash incident- we were the same people as we were before the accident. Will's capabilities are still the same as they were before the test results came in. He is fine. He has tremendous abilities to preform - and preform well in a career. But the reality of having the possibility of not becoming a doctor so prominent before us-- brings us to imagine all the what ifs:  what if we can't get a job, what if we can't pay down the medical school loans, what if we can't ever buy a home, what if Will can't find a way to use his MD degree... Just as in the crash-- the situation was made so much more dramatic because we had a newborn in the back seat. Finding solutions to Will's career questions feel so much more pressing- now that we have our children's future to think about.

Now forgive me if this post seems a little over the top. I know the greatest blessing of all is that we are together as a family and that we are safe. That Will did not loose his life over the stroke or have to suffer blaring disablites as a result. I imagine even to this day the two in the actual car crash suffer from residual pain left from their injuries. It is those that truly suffer that our hearts should constantly be turned to. I do not claim that our problems are any greater than the next. I used this example to illustrate how I feel a little helpless and vunerable. I wish I could do more for those around me. I wish that life wasn't so unpredictable. But most of all I wish for a future that is condusive to a strong family unit where Will and I and our children can care for our own needs and extend ourselves to the caring of the needs many others. I imagine with Will's capablities this will be possible, maybe not as a physician, but in another area. I know just as in the night of the crash, the Lord is watching over us. He is protecting us and preparing us for something better. It is now my challenge to believe that, and to let go of my fears and feelings of helplessness.