No, this isn't a post about imbibing too much alcohol, though I will confess that in my younger years I certainly put away my fair share of gin and orange juice. And I will also admit that there were indeed times when I was dead drunk ... plastered, if you will. But this post isn't about the rowdiness of my life in years gone by but rather about what happened a few nights ago when Oliver the wiener dog and I were out for a walk along the trail ... a walk along the same trail that we walk every night, the same trail where I went for countless walks with little J.R., the same trail that has become one of the only places where I feel like I fit and belong.
It was around 6:30 or so, and it was a warm evening ... warm enough that I donned shorts and a t-shirt for my hour or so on the path. I was deep in thought, though I can't remember now what I was thinking so deeply about at the time. Whatever it was, it was intense enough that my attention was completely diverted from walking. I had my headphones on and my music cranked up, and my head was down looking at the path in front of me. Ollie was trotting right by my side, which was a bit unusual for my little explorer dog. We aren't far into our walk each evening when we cross a road that heads to the elementary school ... it's really more of a drive than a road, I suppose, since it leads only to the school and nowhere else. I've crossed that drive literally hundreds of times, walking in the crosswalk that is painted on the pavement. But this night ... this night came very close to being the final time I crossed that road.
I wasn't paying attention ... I didn't look before I walked into the crosswalk ... it was evening and the school was closed ... I didn't see or hear the car coming ... coming very fast (by the driver's own admission when she got out of the car to find out if I was OK). I only heard the screech of the tires as she slammed on her brakes, stopping the car only inches from me and Ollie. In fact, she left skid marks on the pavement ... that's how fast she was going and how close she came to hitting me. When the car stopped, I just stood there stunned at what had almost just happened ... that big SUV had come within inches of plastering me and Ollie onto the road ... literally, friends ... only inches. The driver hopped out of her car and ran toward me yelling, "Oh, my God, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry ... you were in the sun ... I didn't see you because of the sun ... if you hadn't taken that last step, I wouldn't have seen you at all and I could have killed you!" I told her it was my own fault for not looking before I walked into the road, and I'm not sure who was more apologetic, me or the woman driving the car.
As we said goodbye and Ollie and I began walking again, I was surprised at how calm I was ... no rush of adrenalin, no shaking hands, no sick stomach from fear. It was plain old weird that I wasn't more upset that a car had come so close to hitting me and my dog. I found myself wondering what would have happened had the driver not stopped in time ... would it have killed me instantly? Would it have broken all my bones or left me paralyzed? Would it have thrown me through the air, or would I have instantly hit the pavement and the car run over me? Even with those thoughts running through my mind, still I wasn't scared or upset or shaking. I was, however, thinking so hard about the car event that I walked in front of a guy on a bike and he almost crashed into me as well. Not the best night I've ever had on the trail to say the least ... two near-death experiences in one night on the path must be a trail walker's record of some sort I would think.
Following the bike incident, I decided that I should take Ollie home before I put his life in jeopardy for a third time, so we cut our walk short and made the turn toward our house. As we walked, God made it clear to me that there was a big lesson for me that evening, a big lesson indeed. It's when I don't pay attention ... when I don't watch where I'm going ... that's when I put myself in the greatest danger ... that's when I almost get plastered on the pavement of the road of life.
Keep me focused, Lord, on the path You've set before me. Keep my eyes on You and not on the things of this world. Keep me watching You, Lord, only watching You.
No comments:
Post a Comment