Life, no matter how we live it, is sacred. It is something we can’t get back. It can’t be duplicated, traded in or replaced. (If graphic photos of traffic accidents get to you, don’t click through to the rest of the post)
Six years ago, I was driving this car. I was headed to central Illinois to pick up my cousin so she could make it to a doctor’s appointment in Chicago the next day. It was snowing, so I was keeping a safe distance behind a semi and couldn’t have been going more than 40 mph. When a car was hurrying up the onramp, I decided that slowing down or speeding up to get out of the way was a bad move, so I thought I should change lanes to get out of the way.
I hit black ice. I spun 3 times and went through the large, grassy median and into oncoming traffic where I was hit by an SUV and a large work van. I don’t remember much, other than being so very cold because I was driving without my coat on. I remember a fireman saying “My name is Tom and we are going to get you out of here. You are safe.”
I remember thinking he was lying. And being terrified that I didn’t see a white light or angels or pearly gates. I was certain I was going to die. And I was panicked about getting my cousin to the doctor.
I had lived a fairly quiet life until this accident. Sure, I had chronic migraines and a gluten intolerance. I was overweight. But none of those were big things. I had plans, but I wasn’t convinced I was going to change the world. The thought that my time here might be limited had never truly crossed my mind.
Until the day I should have died.
Then I knew everything mattered. And this life is sacred, no matter what the obstacles are. It is a gift. Treat it well.