Yesterday I experienced the closest thing to a miracle-miracle, like biblical stuff, that I can remember experiencing.
I was in a pretty horrific car wreck with my brother and a friend. I was driving, we hit some ice, slid out, lost control, smashed the back end on the median, then the front on the outside guard rail, shot vertical in the air to become perpendicular to the road, before somehow ending up in the inside lane of oncoming traffic. We didn’t flip or roll. We didn’t hit any other cars. And I think someone else took the wheel (ya know, like Jesus for Carrie Underwood). I don’t know. Whatever happened, the car is totaled and the three of us walked away practically unscathed. Minor bruising and stuff for the most part (a minor fracture in my friend’s sternum being the worst of the injuries).
Was this a true, blue miracle? Or was it some random twist of fate? Was it just luck? Did we somehow have the right balance and force to shoot up, but not enough to keep going? Did I just magically guide the car back and forth all over the road out of the way of any and all traffic? Were the other drivers all Jason Statham?
Once again, I don’t know. But it feels and felt like something divine came down.
I’m pretty skeptical when people talk about angels and other sorts of divine intervention since it introduces all sorts of problems for me, intellectually and theologically. Also, it frequently seems like it could have been something else and didn’t require divine intervention. Maybe that’s the case for me. But it doesn’t feel like it.
But why me? Why us?
Maybe this question wouldn’t be so pressing if my cousin hadn’t been killed in a car accident just four weeks ago. But why was there something divine coming down that protected me, my brother, and our friend and why didn’t this same divine being come save my cousin? Maybe it did. I mean, my other cousin survived. But why?
What is with this seemingly random intervention of the divine? We didn’t say a prayer before driving (maybe we wouldn’t have wrecked at all, if we had…). We’re all good dudes. But not like anything astounding.
Is there really something here that I need to do, that Alistair or Quinn needs to do that brought someone down? Was Dallin’s time really up? Had he really done all that he needed to do? What warrants divine intervention? What are the rules and laws that govern God’s hand coming down and altering the affairs of us humans?
There’s just so much that I don’t understand. I think I’ve got stuff figured out, at least in broad brushstrokes and then life comes, spins me around and throws me in the air and says, nice try, man. Like, I thought that God and divine intervention was largely an emotional or feeling based endeavor. That comfort and peace and goodness to come into our lives, but that for the most part active meddling was out of the picture. Things still just sort of happened. But, with this and some relatively minor experiences I’ve had over the summer and the past that could be termed coincidences, I just struggle to deny divine intervention.
But, now I have what is probably the much messier problem of figuring out why God intervenes when He/She/They do(es). Or other heavenly beings do so, at God’s request or not, I don’t know how stuff works for those that have passed on. Why, when, how, where, with whom, and on who’s behalf. All questions I don’t have answers to.
A miracle. That protected me, my brother, and our friend. Divine intervention. I’ve heard that there can be miracles if you believe—and I feel like the man with the child with palsy that comes to Christ, I believe, help my unbelief.
Why am I still here? What do I need to do? Why was my life spared, when others were not?
Thinking that Dallin was the angel that took the wheel, the one that knocked the car back down to the road to stop it from flipping feels overwhelming. Good, but all sorts of feels. I can’t tell if that’s because it’s true or because I’m tapping into all kinds of emotional reserves by calling up those associations given what’s happened. I just don’t know. I hope it’s true. I think.
It feels good to think of Dallin watching over my and Al. To think of him chilling up there and then seeing the disaster that was about to take place, stepping in to salvage us, surveying the damage and moving off with a shrug at the utter wreck of a car that was left.
Is that what happened? I don’t know. But it gives some sense of understanding to me and that’s worth something. I mean, I am pretty confident in not understanding and knowing a fraction of what there is to know and understand, but I still crave some semblance of understanding. I don’t need knowledge. I don’t need to know, but I want to understand.
I want to understand why. I want to understand why I was saved. I want to understand why God chooses to intervene when He/She/They do(es). I want to understand how divine intervention works. I want to understand what I should do now. I want to understand what happened yesterday. I want to understand.
Perhaps holding onto what feels good is all I can do for now. I don’t really like being reduced to holding onto somewhat fleeting memories—impressions and emotions. I want something more tangible, more reliable. I guess that sounds an awful lot like I’m asking for a sign. I don’t need one (I mean, it usually seems to go pretty poorly for the people that seek them). Maybe that makes me much more like those asking ‘why me’ because of horrible things happening to them. We both seek understanding and closure in some respect. Even if it is different. Still unclear on how designations like that work.
After all that, I still believe. I hold onto belief and want help for my unbelief. And perhaps, that is really the miracle.