Living A Life Of Faith…It was late August 1996 when I started driving home to Minneapolis. The last four months had been spent as both a missions and psychology intern by day. But, by night and before I made it into the office the next morning, I sang backup in a San Francisco Bay band and attempted to surf with a pack in Santa Cruz. The Californian experience was amazing, and it was time to pack my gear and get to my senior year of college. The trip would take around thirty-three hours of actual driving time.
Stopping at Justin’s place, a strange feeling of peace came over me. It was completely by chance (or in those days ‘divine appointment’) that I ran into him at all. The first time was at an open-air concert for Christian believers at Six-Flags amusement park. Jars of Clay was performing when, as if they waited for the right moment to start playing Flood, it started to rain. In the midst of the crowd’s frenzy, a strange yet familiar voice started yelling behind me. I turned to find Justin staring at me and a bit surprised. We exchanged stories of how we ended up there and agreed to have lunch in the upcoming week. We never did.
The second time we ran into each other was six weeks later at Candle Stick stadium in Oakland at the annual Promise Keepers conference. You would think that it would be impossible to run into anyone you know in a different state in a crowd of 60,000 men, but it happened. There we were, discussing how we missed out on lunch and how he should consider coming back to North Central Bible College to finish his bible training. The two strange encounters seemed to add up to a sign from the Almighty that Justin either needed to ignore or hear and respond. “But why now?” he asked. “It must be in the plan. The Almighty brought me here for a reason. Who am I to understand or fathom His mystery or His way. We’re obligated hear, decide and respond!” is what I said. It was the last I heard from him until the day I started my way home. He asked if my offer was still on the table: it was a free ride back to Minnesota in exchange for a little help driving and keeping me awake. I told him it was still good.
Twenty-four hours later, we were nearly across Wyoming on Interstate 90 just about thirty minutes from a town called Sundance. The sun was just starting to light up the sky. It was morning. “What time is it?” Justin asked waking up from a few hour nap. I had driven the entire way to that point and wanted a few hours of sleep to finish the drive home. We were only twelve or so hours away. I figured he could drive a few while I slept instead of stopping and losing time. “Not a problem. The weather is great, and the road should be pretty clear yet. It’s only 7:09 a.m.” Justin said taking the wheel.
My faith in the Almighty was growing. It took me to California. It brought me a new vehicle to get there in, and it provided me a place to live nearly free of charge; it was why I didn’t ask Justin for any cash for trip. I had received freely, and I needed to give things away the same. Every step I took in faith only brought me good things. I had no worries. I was being taken care of.
“Oh, no!” A cry that woke me from my sleep followed by a series of hard crashes and one large one, which was followed by a slide and spinning motion before we stopped. I knew what was happening. I just couldn’t get a visual on it. It was happening too fast. Within thirty minutes of taking the wheel, Justin fell prey to one of the simplest tricks of the road. He hadn’t bothered to look around and had stared intently at the road necessarily lulling him to sleep. He was awoken when my pickup started into the median ditch that separated the two directions of traffic. In his surprise, he over-reacted attempting to get back on the road putting the vehicle into a roll across the ditch and into oncoming traffic. To our dismay, the larger crash was a semi-truck that had been slowing down seeing the accident unfold but not before we hit. The collision sent us spinning back across the road. When we stopped, we were upside down.
“Are you alive?” is what I had yelled each time we hit to which Justin responded vigorously until the last crash, the semi-collision when he went silent. In a few seconds, I checked to see if I could feel my legs while attempting to elicit a response from him. I unsnapped my seatbelt and reached over for his—he was alive but unconscious. Attempting to get his seatbelt undone, I thought about the sermon I had preached two days before to nearly 600 people. All those people came to hear a young college intern speak to them about faith and what it is and how it works. Much like Joseph in Egypt, I was a stranger in a strange land (It meant different things to different people.). My best friend from Israel came to mind and his telling me not to get into an accident on the way home. I thought about many things and other incidences where my life should have been over in those few moments. I saw how they were all strung together; it was part of a plan; one I would understand later. I would deal with the emotions, feelings and questions later. The sweet scent of blood and smoke filled the compartment. There was work to do.
Managing to undo his seatbelt, I crawled out from my side of the vehicle to make my way around to his. He was still unconscious. I carefully moved him out through the window making the source of the blood obvious. He came to a few moments later. Attempting to jump up, we instructed him to lay still. One of the people who stopped attended the cut on his forehead. The semi-driver had radioed in for help and reported it to be at least twenty minutes away. In that time, I reassured Justin that the vehicle didn’t matter and not to worry about it attempting to keep him alert and in the moment. It was true. I wasn’t worried about the vehicle. I wasn’t worried about anything except for him going into shock. When help finally arrived, he was nearly out of it.
As the paramedics drove off with Justin, I spoke to the state trooper about what needed to happen next. “I need an action-plan. I’m due home in the next day or two.” I said with a little urgency. He looked at me oddly and asked if I realized how lucky I was to be alive. “You were just in a roll over vehicle accident traveling at a high speed. If that wasn’t enough, you were hit by a semi-truck going the opposite direction, which by some miracle didn’t crush you and sent you flying over yonder upside down… God must really like you.” I laughed. Then, I turned and cried quietly. I thanked the Almighty for being good to me and for giving me another day to live. It wasn’t my time.
There it is.
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