I grew up in the church. When you’re raised ‘in church’, there usually comes a day where your faith has to become your own… not your parents, not your grandparents – your own. September 12^th of this year marked 18 years ago when this day came for me. Every year this day rolls around, I can’t help but recall the worst day of my life, which only God could turn into something good.

It started off just like any other day. My dad and brother had gone off on a fishing trip, and when they had returned to my grandparents’ house my dad’s truck wouldn’t start. My mom, sister, and I had to go pick them up. During the trip, I found myself alone outside when a group of older, ‘scary’ kids started to make their way down the sidewalk towards me. I was wearing my dc Talk ‘Jesus Freak’ t-shirt, and fearful thoughts started to run through my young mind. I didn’t want them to see and make fun of me, or do anything worse, so I turned to where they couldn’t read my shirt and waited for them to pass.

We headed back home soon after, because my sister was scheduled to work later that afternoon. She didn’t have her license yet, so Mom had to take her and asked if anyone else wanted to rider with her. My dad and my brother were tired, so I decided I would ride with her. I was tired too, so I loosely buckled up and laid down in the back seat. When we got to the intersection of the highway, I heard my mom start talking. My mom started to go at the same moment I sat up to see what was going on…

I sat up just in time to see the vehicle hit us. It happened just like in the movies. I heard the crunch and then everything went silent. In the quiet, I remember seeing my mom and sister’s heads bobbling back and forth as the car rolled through the air. The car stopped moving, and I sat there for a moment thinking it was all a dream… and even though I wasn’t sure if it was real, my first thought was ‘I should call my dad.’ I began searching for the cell phone, and as I looked down I saw blood all over me. The center console from the front of the car was now beside me where I had been laying. I felt fine, but my mom and sister weren’t responding to me asking how they were and where the cell phone was. Then it hit me – this was really happening. I knew I had to get help. There was glass in my sandals, so I ran out barefoot towards the highway flagging anyone that would stop.

I ran back to towards the car, and the people who lived in the house whose yard we landed in were outside and let me know they had called 9-1-1. My sister had been knocked out, but I just knew that she’d be okay. My mom, on the other hand… I just felt something was wrong. When I had gotten back to the car she was looking in my direction, but it was like she was looking through me. She had blood coming from her nose and ears. I asked her to just give me a sign that should be okay and in that moment, her head fell. I couldn’t do anything else but fall to my knees and cry out to God, pleading with Him (and I quote) ‘please don’t take my mommy!’

There I was on my knees praying in front of everyone, when just hours before I turned my back so people wouldn’t see my Christian t-shirt. I started bargaining with God that if He spared my mom’s life, I’d live for Him the rest of mine. Then God put in my mind…

What if He didn’t?

If I truly believed that He was real, would I really turn my back on Him? Would I give up seeing my mom again in heaven? The truth is, you can’t bargain with God. My faith had to be real and not dependent on whether or not God did what I wanted Him to do in this very moment. While I believe God knew my heart was true in saying this, I had to realize this couldn’t be an ultimatum. I had to yield and decided in my heart right there that I’d live for Him no matter what happened.

Many people stopped to help us that day. A nurse had stopped and took care of my mom until EMT arrived. A gentleman from the National Guard also stopped and let me use his cell phone to call my dad. That was THE HARDEST call I’ve ever had to make.

I started asking the EMTs how my mom was doing, but they sat me in the shade thinking I may have been in shock. They told me my sister was fine but no one would answer me about my mom. My uncle (who was an EMT) and a colleague of his showed up. It was nice to see familiar faces. Then there was my angel… a lady named Lena who lived nearby who had stopped and stayed with me the entire time. She sat with me in the shade as we watched them cut open the car with the ‘jaws of life’ to get my mom out…as the first responders worked to get my sister out, as her leg was trapped between her seat and the metal door. She stayed until it was time for me to also be ‘boarded’ and get a neck brace on.

My sister and I were transported to the hospital in the same ambulance. I asked again about my mom, but no direct answers. My sister was awake and asking if her brain had internal bleeding (they told her she watched too much CSI). The driver of the ambulance had trouble getting the ambulance to move, until she realized the parking break was on. Not a good start for someone just in a car accident… but we finally left and made it to the hospital.

I remember watching the fluorescent ceiling lights pass as they rolled me through the hospital. It felt like forever while I was waiting alone in a cold, white room for some answers. My pastor was able to come back, and he got me a blanket. He told me mom wasn’t well, but the doctors were working hard. Then the officer came to get my statement on what happened. He looked at me, shook his head, and said I don’t know how I’m even talking to you right now.

It was a scene so bad that apparently they had the body bags out and ready. Our car was mangled, and had been hit by the Jeep Cherokee pulling a trailer of landscaping materials going about 65mph. We were knocked airborne, clearing an eight foot (or higher, I’m not good with eyeing height or distance) embankment, and missed three trees and a telephone in the process. The officer had told my dad that it looked like someone reached down and placed us where we were. My dad, of course, replied, ‘I know Whose hand that was.’ I gave the officer my statement, and he left.

My dad came in, and he filled me in a little more on mom, but still not a lot of details. I was checked out and cleared to go. Dad took me to my mom’s room. She was unconscious. She had suffered bruising and swelling on the brain. She had a broken nose from hitting the steering wheel. The glass from the windshield shattered and scattered under her skin, mostly on her face. She had a chipped bone in her elbow and had an eye and ear injury.

I then went and waited with my sister, who had a head injury needing staples in the back and glue in the front. She had a mild concussion, but was cleared to go home that night as well.

We went out to the ER waiting room, and it was FILLED with friends and family. It was overwhelming and amazing to feel so loved and cared about. My sister and I went home with my cousins, who took great care of us (and introduced us to Ferris Bueller and tons of new snack foods!) My brother stayed with my aunt and uncle, so he could be with our other cousins.

The first night, it was hard to sleep. The worry and fear that my mom might not make it kept me awake. When I did fall asleep, I would wake up from it playing over in my mind.

My sister healed perfectly, and was happy that they didn’t have to shave her hair to put the staples in.

It was a long road, but my mom made a full recovery! She had lost sight in one eye and hearing in one ear, but she regained both back after some time… and after about three years the last piece of glass fell out from under her skin.

While I had blood on me, none of it was mine. I walked out without a scratch, but not without scars. I am the only one with any memory of all that happened. It took me a long time to be able to ride in a car with my eyes open, and even longer to willingly go places.

We went to the impound to get belongings and check the car out. We found that the ONLY door that would even open was mine. The side of the car that my sister was on was smashed in nearly to the center of the car. My sister is tiny… and for most of her life wasn’t happy about it. On this day she found out why God made her so small. If she was any bigger, she probably would have been more injured or worse… and definitely would not have been able to wiggle out of her shoe and free her foot so easily. The only thing we didn’t ever find was the cell phone.

While this day was certainly one of the hardest days of my life, it is also the day my faith became real. For most people, this is a day they’d want to forget. For me, it’s a day I have to remember. It is my reminder that I cannot give up on God or my faith. I keep this photo as my ‘standing stone’ to look back on and see what God has done for me and my family – what He has brought me through – and for that, I am thankful.