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Love of God Epiphany
May 28, 2018 6 years agoI was driving home after a day at the water park with my daughter's Girl Scout troop, about ten at night, about 40 minutes left to go. I glanced at the sleepy kids in the back. The coffee was working. I was awake and alert. Time to play some music. I fumbled between the seats for my hand-held player. A car was coming. Better let it pass first, I thought, putting both hands on the wheel. I focused on those headlights. Suddenly, they disappeared. I let off the gas, flashed my brights, and strained to see where they went. That's when I saw the car-hauler semi-truck pulled across the highway and realized those headlights hit that truck! Three heads popped up in the back. “Why are we stopping?” one asked. “There's been an accident,” I said parking at nearby warehouse. “Stay put. I'm going to see if I can help.” I hurried to the small, white car smashed into the side of the semi-trailer. Inside was a young, blonde, unconscious woman. Her head tilted unnaturally low to one side. I reached through the window, touched her shoulder, and prayed. “Please don't have put me here for nothing, Lord. Save this woman. Give her another chance, Lord. Please help her!” I felt for a pulse but couldn't find one. More people came. “There are no skid marks,” someone said. “She didn't see the truck.” The truck driver was trying to make a three-point turn. His cab was in the ditch angled towards oncoming traffic. Facing away from me, I hadn't seen it . Our headlights shined right through the trailer. I hadn't seen anything until I turned on my high beams. If I hadn't been staring straight at her headlights when they'd disappeared, I'd have hit it too. In minutes an off-duty fireman had traffic stopped behind the accident and put out flares, and an off-duty police officer was at the car calling for more help and trying to assess the girl's condition. “I can't feel her pulse,” I told him. “She's got a faint pulse,” he said. Oh thank God! ‘Thank you, God,' I thought. “Can I help?” I asked. “No, those guys will handle it,” he said indicating the firemen sprinting to the car. They affixed a neck brace and administered Oxygen. I checked the kids. They were tired and antsy. “It won't be much longer. The firemen are here,” I said then walked back to the roadside to pace and pray. I heard a bystander say, “She's dead.” No, Lord. Please! I took a deep breath and asked a nearby policewoman. “Did she die?” “Maybe you heard the Life Flight helicopter earlier?” she said. “It's been cancelled.” The next day's newspaper said the blonde "woman" was only eighteen. Her name was Amy, the same as my youngest daughter. She was to start nursing school in three weeks. Instead she was dead, and I was alive. In three weeks I'd celebrate my Amy's 2nd birthday because of her headlights. I was so angry at God. Why such a senseless death? Why have a praying Christian, a fireman, and a police officer there in minutes only for her to die? You could have stopped this, my thoughts railed at Him. You're all powerful! Why? I was sick to my stomach for three days. Eventually I realized the railing wasn't helping, wouldn't change anything. I needed to snap out of it, pull myself together. I had a family to care for--chores to do. Laundry was piling up. The lawn needed mowing. I decided to let it go—for now. I put on my work clothes and some praise music hoping to lift my spirits. I was tying my tennis shoes when I had my epiphany. "Awesome God" was playing. The chorus declared “Our God is an awesome God. He reigns from Heaven above with wisdom, power, and love. Our God is an awesome God.” At first, I was still feeling bitter and mocking God inside as I listened. All powerful, but You let her die. Wise, but you let it happen anyway. I was crying again. Why? I wouldn't do that to someone I love. As the chorus repeated “in wisdom, power, and love . . .” I finally heard it. I'd given Him credit for power, but not love. I'd said it already—I wouldn't do that to someone I loved. What if she was headed for hell? Then I realized anew that God doesn't just have love, He is love. If it hurt me to see this stranger die, how much more had it hurt Love to see His creation die? Then why? The anger was gone now. He reigns in wisdom, power and love. Yes, He is omnipotent (all powerful). Yes, He is love. So why? He is also wise. Beyond wise--He's omniscient. I know in part, but He knows it all. Yet Love to let her die because He knew something I didn't. What was that Bible verse? “All things work together for good to them that love God.” God had worked good in that accident for me. Surely omniscient, omnipotent Love had worked good for Amy as well. Was she ready to meet her maker that day? I don't know, but I believe she was as ready as she would ever be. Love would not have taken her otherwise.