This has been a long
time coming, but I thought I would post some excerpts from my journal shortly
after the car accident I was in February 5…
February 7, 2012
February 7, 2012
“So I think we were talking about running – marathons and
ultramarathons and training and injuries and good ol’ runners talk. I had met Sharrone 30 minutes before as my
taxi arrived to meet my ride to Ndola at a gas station on the edge of
Lusaka. Squeezed in the back seat between
two booster chairs, I was in charge of holding the portable DVD player while
the two young boys looked on from either side of me. The Watts were heading home after a swim gala
and were gracious enough to let me tag along for the ride. About 10 kilometers or so out of Lusaka on
the Great North Road, everything changed.
You know how in books and movies people talk of their ‘life
flashing before their eyes’ in accidents and near-death experiences? Well, as
the truck flew at us from the tall grass along the edge of the road and impact
was made, I just remember closing my eyes and waiting for everything to go
still and black. I thought that was
it. As the car rolled and I heard the
crunch of the roof, I was convinced that I was going to lose consciousness and
never wake up.
The stillness came, but the pain and blackness did not. As we rolled to a stop on the passenger side
of the car, I was in disbelief that I was okay – and scared to death the kids
were not. But God is good.
Within moments we all realized what had happened. Before I knew it, Zambians were standing
above us offering to help us out. I
helped unbuckle Sammy and Joel and was the last to climb out – after making a
quick desperate search for my phone. And I could still hear the portable DVD
player somewhere in the car. Once we were all out, the car was rolled right
side up.
I remember Sharrone telling the onlookers to please not
steal from us – as many collected our belongings that were scattered along the
roadside and field. One of the women
took it upon herself to comfort the boys while Sharron and Charlie desperately
tried to get things under control. We searched for the DVD player to help
placate the kids, but it was nowhere to be found. The cooler bag I had
disappeared completely, and the contents: apples, carrots, koala crackers and a
busted jar o strawberry jam stretched along for 100 meters or so. I just wanted to find my phone. Here I was with relative strangers desperate
to reach Luke or my parents or someone I knew.
I felt like it was all a weird unreal situation that I mistakenly
entered – like a scene in a movie and I was an unscripted ‘extra’ who snuck
into the shot.
My hand was bleeding and shoulder tender, but nothing as bad
as it could have been. We were all
safe. The other driver didn’t even look
shaken – dressed in a tie and vest and calm and completely unmoved by the whole
situation. As friends of Sharrone were
called from her phone, I kept desperately searching for mine. I tried to get online from Luke’s computer
which was unscathed by the accident, but there was no signal where we
were. I felt so lost – like no one knew
where I was and there was no hope.
Sharrone had one contact in her phone that I knew, so we called my
friend and she called some others from the mine to let them know what happened.
Eventually, “rescue” rides showed up to take us back to
Lusaka and the police came to write reports.
As we gathered all of our belongings from the roadside, the police woman
insisted we take everything – even the
car CD player, the broken wheels, etc – knowing that the car would be stripped
for anything worth anything.
My ride back to Lusaka happened to be with the Flying
Mission director, which was hugely comforting because of his relationship to
SIM. We went to his house and he called
our deputy director while his wife fixed up my hand. One of the couples there was going back to
Ndola and I decided to go along. Their
willingness to let me ride, let me use their phones, and then to stay at their
house was amazing. They arranged to take
me to the clinic for a checkup the next morning and were incredibly gracious to
me – a perfect stranger. Other friends
arranged rides back to Solwezi the next day.
I was so afraid driving – terrified of another accident – and when we
almost hit a goat, I think my heart stopped.
I am back now. I was able to communicate with mom and then
Luke and then our director on the ride to Ndola, and have since been
overwhelmed with the outpouring of prayer and support from friends. One friend brought by a basket of groceries
and others called and e-mailed. Our
director even graciously met with the man who found my phone to get it back (who
insisted he be paid for his finding).
Most of all, I am overwhelmed by the grace and goodness and
mercy of the Lord Jesus Christ. There is
no reason we should have exited the car without horrible wounds, but He
protected us. I know my purpose here on
earth is not finished and the Lord has wonderful plans. I pray I am worthy of His calling and an
instrument of His grace. Praise God.”
