It was a calm, ordinary sunny day, and I was traveling down the mountain on Highway 41 on my way to work. The sky was a brilliant blue and the view of the Pelham Valley was spectacular as always. Best I can remember, I was going about 40 miles an hour and despite the many irritating drivers who tend to straighten the curves and cross the center line on that curvy road, I was staying in my lane as I always do.
All of a sudden, I heard a rough, deafening noise that I could not identify. Then, in the blink of an eye, something violently landed on my car and smashed it like a bug. Honestly, it was as if a piano had fallen out of the sky because I didn’t even have time to skid to a stop. My car was stopped in its tracks in a split second. Holy cow! What just happened?!
It took me a moment to realize it was a tree. Branches and leaves completely engulfed my car, and there was barely enough light to see that the roof had caved in and the dashboard was completely destroyed. The cheerful music on the radio felt oddly out of place with such a destructive backdrop, so I turned off the key to concentrate. I searched for my glasses and finally found them under the brake pedal. I struggled with my door, but it wouldn’t open so I managed to slide out the other side.
When I saw the damage from the outside, it was truly shocking. The tree had landed right down the center of my car, from bumper to bumper. Wow! What a mess.
My first instinct was to call Blue Monarch. “Just wanted to let you know I’ll be late. A tree just landed on my car.” In looking back, I don’t know if that was an under-reaction from shock, or if it was an indication of my unpredictable Blue Monarch world, in which such an event was barely notable.
A car slowly crept around the carnage and the driver rolled down his window and squeamishly asked, “Was the driver killed?”
“Nope. I am the driver.” Surprisingly, that car and several others just drove by and no one stopped, which in looking back seems a little odd.
I called 911 to let them know what had happened. “Are you hurt?”
“Hmmm...I hadn’t thought about it.” I looked down, did a quick exam and replied, “Oddly enough, I am covered in millions of tiny pieces of glass, but I don’t even have a scratch.” It was a miracle.
Needless to say, the car was totaled. The guy who towed it called a few days later. “Lady, I’ve been sitting here looking at your car and I’ve decided, you are either the most blessed person I know, or the luckiest person I know. So, I was just wondering if you would buy me a lottery ticket.”
One would think, after surviving something that should have killed me, I would come away feeling pretty invincible. Just think. Even a split second earlier or later could have made all the difference between life and death. Not to mention, even the accident, exactly how it happened, really should have killed me or at least caused severe injury.
All of a sudden, I heard a rough, deafening noise that I could not identify. Then, in the blink of an eye, something violently landed on my car and smashed it like a bug. Honestly, it was as if a piano had fallen out of the sky because I didn’t even have time to skid to a stop. My car was stopped in its tracks in a split second. Holy cow! What just happened?!
It took me a moment to realize it was a tree. Branches and leaves completely engulfed my car, and there was barely enough light to see that the roof had caved in and the dashboard was completely destroyed. The cheerful music on the radio felt oddly out of place with such a destructive backdrop, so I turned off the key to concentrate. I searched for my glasses and finally found them under the brake pedal. I struggled with my door, but it wouldn’t open so I managed to slide out the other side.
When I saw the damage from the outside, it was truly shocking. The tree had landed right down the center of my car, from bumper to bumper. Wow! What a mess.
My first instinct was to call Blue Monarch. “Just wanted to let you know I’ll be late. A tree just landed on my car.” In looking back, I don’t know if that was an under-reaction from shock, or if it was an indication of my unpredictable Blue Monarch world, in which such an event was barely notable.
A car slowly crept around the carnage and the driver rolled down his window and squeamishly asked, “Was the driver killed?”
“Nope. I am the driver.” Surprisingly, that car and several others just drove by and no one stopped, which in looking back seems a little odd.
I called 911 to let them know what had happened. “Are you hurt?”
“Hmmm...I hadn’t thought about it.” I looked down, did a quick exam and replied, “Oddly enough, I am covered in millions of tiny pieces of glass, but I don’t even have a scratch.” It was a miracle.
Needless to say, the car was totaled. The guy who towed it called a few days later. “Lady, I’ve been sitting here looking at your car and I’ve decided, you are either the most blessed person I know, or the luckiest person I know. So, I was just wondering if you would buy me a lottery ticket.”
One would think, after surviving something that should have killed me, I would come away feeling pretty invincible. Just think. Even a split second earlier or later could have made all the difference between life and death. Not to mention, even the accident, exactly how it happened, really should have killed me or at least caused severe injury.
But I did not feel lucky or blessed. Instead, I seemed to be convinced another tree would fall on me at any moment. I became keenly aware of what was over my head, and many times I caught myself leaning away from the trees when I drove up or down the mountain. It had happened once. Who’s to say it won’t happen again?
The reaction from others was almost as surprising as having a tree land on my car. I cannot even count the number of times people interpreted what had happened by immediately placing the blame on God. Seriously?
“God must be teaching you to slow down and smell the roses.”
“God must be trying to get your attention and you aren’t listening.”
“God wants to teach you a lesson of some kind...wonder what it is...” Really?
It was shocking how many people immediately jumped to the conclusion the accident was something God did to me for some nefarious reason. And my reaction was always the same. “Are you kidding? I believe God protected me!”
But, if I am honest with myself, did I really believe that? If so, why was I so convinced it would happen again? Why was I leaning away from the trees on the side of the road as if I was always in danger?
Apparently, my faith was limited. I believed God protected me, but I did not trust him to do it again.
That’s a hard thing to admit because my entire Blue Monarch journey has been built on tremendous faith. It has required supernatural faith every single step along the way - almost like beginning each day with a trust fall. I’m a professional faith person! So, if I live with that level of conviction on a daily basis, and still have limited trust in God, how in the world do we expect our deeply wounded women and children to trust him or anyone else, for that matter?
We are always puzzled by how hard it is, and how long it takes, for our women and children to trust us. In many ways we are the trees on the side of the road. No wonder they lean away from us for so long. They have been hurt many times by others - so who says they won’t get hurt again? And again?
It has occurred to me recently that we face a much greater challenge than even addiction or abuse. It is faith. Teaching our families that God is not the bad guy. After all, many of us are actually taught that from an early age. “God will get you!” As if he’s just sitting around like a villain, twisting his moustache between his thumb and index finger, just waiting for us to mess up so he can catch us in the act. Bam! Got another one!
There is also a common, twisted theology that God puts us through bad things just to test our limits, as if he enjoys pushing us to the very edge of the precipice to see if we will break. I have heard so many times, “Why did this happen to me? I thought God would not give me more than I could handle.” They are usually referring to things God did not give them anyway - such as actions of others or even their own poor choices. After all, there's that pesky thing called "free will." It must be so frustrating for God to love his children so much and still be thought of as the bad guy.
God is not the nasty one who made the tree land on my car. He is the one who, despite all his other concerns that day, noticed the exact time I left my house, how long I lingered at the post office, how distracted I was because of a song on the radio, how far I swerved to miss a squirrel, and still made sure that when that tree fell, my car was positioned just enough this way or that, to protect me from getting hurt. He was paying attention to every detail. Every single detail. That - is the God we want our women and children to know.
The other day I looked back at the many graduates we have had at Blue Monarch since we began in 2003. It has been an honor to present each and every one of them with a well deserved diploma. As I reflected on each of their names, I wanted to see if there was a common denominator among those who have found freedom and have thrived the most. And I found it.
The graduates who have surpassed even our greatest expectations are the ones who figured out this important fact: As long as they are leaning toward their Heavenly Father who loves them, it really doesn't matter if a tree lands on them again. Either way, he will take care of them. And honestly, that is what you call, real faith.
Once again, my greatest teachers are the ones we serve.
Though you have not seen him, you love him; and even though you do not see him now, you believe in him and are filled with inexpressible and glorious joy, for you are receiving the end result of your faith, the salvation of your souls. 1 Peter 1:8-9