God, Our Protector

"I want hot dogs from the hot dog store." Tornado said, mimicking his desires from the night before when we were discussing where to go to dinner.

We were at church now... fellowshiping until only a few handfuls of people scattered about in the hallways. We make our way down the long hall, through the doors and out into the parking lot. Moments later our dark green Saturn pulls out of the church parking lot.

I sit quietly, noting the left instead of right, waiting to see where we are headed. The freeway? Lunch out? I would let My Beloved keep his secret as long as he wanted too. Let him enjoy whatever he had planned.

Our turn for the freeway onramp just ahead. A kid talks to me from the back seat. I turn to listen. Returning my attention frontward, I see it. White car crossing over white line. Not slowing. Not stopping. My Beloved sees it too. Brakes. Swerves. He tries to take it in his own door. He tries to turn. To minimize impact. To control the uncontrollable.

I see it all in real time, not slow motion as I expect. I say nothing. Hold nothing. Can do nothing. I except it instead of bracing for it.

Impact.



Metal crunches. Or is it all plastic? The scene before me changes quickly. Road. Trees. Road. Overpass. Intersection. The spinning stops but the screaming behind me has only just begun. Panic.

Before a second passes, I am out of the car. Opening a rear door before I even know what I'm doing. They're all crying, but Little Man looks fine. I run around the car to Sweet Pea's side. Pull the handle. Nothing. Reaching over Little Man again, I unbuckle both children. Meet them in my seat up front. How can I know whether children this small are ok?

A man runs toward our car. A witness. He's asking if we're alright, but I keep my attention on my babies, pulled into my lap now. Held close. My Beloved talks to him. I try to ask one of my babies if he's ok, but can't hear his answer over the screaming in my other ear. I ask her... same problem.

"Stop crying," I say. "Stop." How can I expect my littles to grow up in a second? To know how to react? To possess self control better than many adults? Better than myself? "I need you to stop crying and look at me. It's very important. Stop." I say again, speaking firmly over their cries.

They are both looking at me. Tears in their eyes and running down their faces. I look at Sweet Pea, "Are you hurt or are you scared?" I ask pointedly, looking directly into her eyes. "Scared." She whimpers. My attention is turned to Tornado, "Are you hurt or are you scared?" "Scared." He answers as well. I hold them close, comforting them and rocking them. I am so grateful for all the training that allows for them to listen to mommy when it really matters. To put panic aside and obey.

The other driver tries to ask if we're ok. I can't look at him. I'm not ready. I hold them closer. My Beloved talks to him. Exchanging information. Making sure they are ok too.


We venture out together. Excited to see what happened to the car. With a little hand in each of mine, we walk around the car to see tire flat. Door broken. I catch a breath in my chest. Hold tears deep. My baby girl was right on the other side of that depression. I turn quickly, lowering to look at her again. Touching. Feeling. Squeezing. Asking, "Does this hurt?" "Do you hurt anywhere?" I can't believe it. Looking down through the window, there is no space between door and seat. Sobs threaten to force their way out. I hold them back for their sakes. Then a voice from behind.

A sweet sister, C, from church is talking to us. Are we ok? Do we want to come sit in their van? We are grateful they saw us. That they stopped. I walk over with the kids. Four young boys are waiting to entertain. To play. To distract. I am grateful for a warm place for my littles to hide from everything that just happened.

Back at the car another brother, D, Daddy to 3 girls in his car, stands beside ours. Are we ok? Can he do anything to help? Do we need a cell phone? Should he take pictures?

Pictures. Yes. We need those and forgot both cell phones. But wait. The camera. We do have the camera. I thank him and run around to the open door for it. Pressing it into My Beloved's hands. He takes the pictures.




EMS arrives. The police. I go through the motions. Am I hurt? Who was driving? Where are the children? My Beloved takes care of everything that matters. I wander in circles, staying close to the car where Little Man is still in his car seat. The EMT comes to check on him. I tell her I'm only worried because he's not crying. In reality, I'm grateful.




Another voice. Another sister, J, driving by from church with her boys. Can she take us home? D is offering his car for My Beloved. He'd get a ride home.

Pastor.

My Beloved's boss.

All were among the handfuls that remained at church when we left more than a few moments before.

Pastor carries the infant seat, Little Man inside, across the highway to J's van. I turn to get the kids myself. Sweet Pea is upset again. Nervous that Little Man is being taken away. Everyone is fine. We load up in a van with friends. More boys. Little Man is crying now. Hungry.


My Beloved removes valuables from the car. Gets a few more pictures. The kids excitedly watch the tow truck. The driver becomes a hero.

Sweet Pea is upset because her door is broken. She will cry about this several more times over the next few days.

All things considered, we are fine. Sore necks, especially My Beloved. The kids are shaken, but not hurt at all. The kids talk about the white car. Wonder why it wanted to break Sweet Pea's door.

We return home to lunch. To naps. To a deep breath.

God is our protector!

The rest of the week My Beloved battled insurance... still battles insurance. A new car to drive every day. God is our provider as well! Finally a rental. New car seats. I am grateful!



More of my first 1000 gifts:


79. warm November days

80. side impact bars

81. children uninjured

82. church family when ours is so far away

83. roll playing

84. spare cars from friends

85. fun rentals

86. no need to fear

87. knowing He's our provider

88. a husband who does all the hard stuff

89. new car seats

90. bringing so many along our path

91. protection

92. mercy

93. grace

Labels: As it happens..., Gratitude

posted by ~Babychaser~ @ 8:11 AM