Fides Quaerens Intellectum

The trip came at just the right time. It was late in the semester, April 27, and although I was pleased with the way our inaugural academic year had turned out, I was tired. Marana was in need of a break too. Staying at home with 3 little ones ages 4 and under was a blessing, but she was ready for the short respite that her 10 year college class reunion would bring. We were also grateful that my mom could stay with the kids in LaGrange at our house.

This reunion will be a great time with old friends and maybe we’ll even get a little time to ourselves, I thought. It would be even better if I didn’t have term papers to grade…hmmm…I wonder if my supervisor would mind if I subcontracted this part of my job out to someone else. As we made our way through Atlanta on I-85 North I sat in the passenger seat as Marana drove, hacking away on my 17 inch screen Dell, grading those papers.

“Hey Marana…” I was stalling the inevitable, but I just wasn’t quite in my grading frame of mind just yet.

“Yeah?”

“Just heard from our friend Bob. He and Penny will be going to visit that church he’s been candidating with for several months. The search committee says it’s down to two candidates for senior pastor, and he’s one of them.”

“Wow…that’s great! That’s such an important church. I think they would do great there.”

I look in the backseat to make sure our other passenger, Zach-our 7 year old Boston Terrier, is ok. There he is, his black and white face almost pressed against the right rear passenger window, just busy keeping an eye on traffic. He takes more than a passing glance at the new Chick-fil-A billboard as we get into the heart of Atlanta. What a life…this canine certainly has it made. Can’t believe he’s been with us 7 years. That’s longer than any of our kids. We’re all he knows. Traveling through Atlanta was nothing new to the three of us. We had passed through the city many times together on our way home to SC on Christmas and summer breaks when we lived in Waco, TX where I was chipping away at my doctoral coursework at Baylor University.

“Oh,” Marana interrupts the silence, for which I’m glad. Yet another opportunity not to have to focus on paper-grading. “I think I’ll try the HOV lane. Looks like there’s some slowing down up ahead in the other lanes.”

“Sure, give it a shot. Can’t hurt to try.”

OK, back to grading. I make a few more comments on the electronic paper I’m holding on my lap. Ok, I think I’m getting into this now. But wait, this sentence is too ambiguous…oh, and she knows not to split her infinitives. Overall she’s making a pretty good case, so that’s good… I look up to think through how to articulate my next comment for this student’s paper. Why in the world is that car coming over into our lane…his rear fender is going to push our front end into the HOV wall… “Nooo!”

Our 2001 Montero Sport’s nose hits the wall with a colossal force. A horribly loud crashing sound reverberates through the Montero’s hull as it loses its footing on the pavement. Oh dear Lord, is this really happening? Why are you letting this happen to us?

The eerie sounds of glass smashing and metal grating on pavement is deafening as the vehicle begins to roll over, seemingly for an eternity. With each successive roll I am simultaneously paralyzed by fear and comforted by a still small voice:

Roll 1: Lord, is this the end for both of us? Will our kids be left without parents this afternoon? The voice speaks to me: “Even though you walk through the valley of the shadow of death, you will fear no evil, for I am with you.” Psalm 23.

Roll 2: Will Marana be left a widow at age 32, with three small children to take care of on her own? Worse yet, will I survive but lose her, the love of my life to whom I’ve been married for almost 10 years? There is so much more that I wanted to say to her, so much more life that I was looking forward to living with her. Even if we survive, will we be permanently injured for the rest of our lives? Again, the voice: “Trust in me. Whatever the outcome, remember that they who dwell in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.” Psalm 91:1

Roll 3: Lord, there was so much more that I thought we were supposed to accomplish for you on this earth. “For I know the plans I have for you…plans for wholeness and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope.” Jeremiah 29:11.

The Montero finally comes to a rest on the driver’s side.

Suspended in mid-air by my seatbelt, I immediately look over to my love to see if her eyes are open. They are! And she’s blinking! Dear God, thank you!

“Marana! You ok?”

“Yeah. Are you?”

“I’m fine. Can you move your fingers and toes?”

“Yes. Can you?”

“Uh-huh. But stay real still for now. Let me pray for us.”

As I’m praying a prayer of thanksgiving for allowing us to live, good Samaritans run up to the vehicle and begin to help us out of the wreckage. Even our little terrier friend Zach is ok. Very scared, but no injuries. Good-hearted strangers help Marana and me to safety and make sure Zach finds his way to his portable kennel, which we had in the back of the Montero. Marana and I could both walk, and I knew at that point that neither of us was seriously hurt. How in the world…just look at the Montero!

As we make our way to Grady Hospital in the ambulance, I keep thinking and praying. Lord, with a crash like that, humanly speaking we should be dead. Even though our seatbelts worked, the laptop…how did it not hit one or both of us in the head and kill us?

And the still small voice this time is made audible through the voices of dear friends and family who came to comfort us in the hospital as well as in the coming days as they took care of us in our own home as well as through phone calls and written notes, “He isn’t finished with either of you yet.”

From them will come songs of thanksgiving and the sound of rejoicing. I will add to their numbers, and they will not be decreased; I will bring them honor, and they will not be disdained. Jeremiah 30:19