Thursday, May 1, 2014

The Shadow of His Wings



 “Because you have been my help, therefore in the shadow of your wings will I rejoice.” (AKJV)
  
     “Finally.  The last tray,” I thought as I scrubbed the last bakery tray for the day.  I glanced at the clock with relief that my shift would soon be over.  I found it very difficult to concentrate on my job when thoughts of my mother’s dementia continued to flood my mind.

     “She is getting so forgetful.  She needs me to be home more.  Dad cannot take care of her by himself.  What am I going to do?” I thought.  I prepared to go home, and left the store.  

     As I drove home, I attempted to clear my head by listening to some jazz.  I took a deep breath as the sound of the relaxed tempos filled the car.  As I drove along the two-lane highway, I rolled down my window.  The fresh air felt good on my face.  I thought about making myself a nice sandwich as soon as I got home.  

     As I looked at the oncoming traffic, it looked like the car in the opposing lane was in my lane coming straight at me.  I figured the driver was passing another car and would get back over in the other lane.  But as the car approached, I realized that it was staying in my lane and going even faster than it was before.  My body filled with the shock of panic as I quickly considered what I should do.

     “I can’t pull over on either side or I will go into the ditch!  I’m going 55.  I can’t slam on my brakes because there is a big truck behind me!”

     I gently pressed the brakes in hopes of softening the blow, but in that split second, I was aware that I was about to be in a head-on collision.  I thought I was about to die.

     “Jesus, help me!” was all I could scream as I braced myself and gripped the steering wheel tightly.  Suddenly, the windshield was covered with what looked like a pure white sheet.  I could no longer see out the window, and as I looked closer, I saw the fine lines of where the feathers pressed against the glass.  I knew in my spirit that an angel was embracing the vehicle, and I could see the shape of the wing against the windshield.  I could not see the angel’s face for it was above the windshield.  All I could see was a little part of the angel’s chest and the wings that spanned the whole width of the windshield.    

     When the impact occurred, my car spun around two or three times and about twenty images of my childhood flashed through my mind in color.  Then it was gone and everything was still.

     I looked around and saw the other car and the truck that was behind me.  A man was walking toward me from the truck.  I was still in shock as I tried to process mentally what had just occurred.  I decided to go check on the other person, and I started to get out of my car.  The man that was walking toward me stopped me.  

     “You can’t go over there,” he said, gently leading me back into my car.  I sensed by the look on his face that the other driver was probably dead.

     The ambulance arrived, and the paramedics asked me a series of questions.

     “Where do you feel pain, ma’am?”   

     “The only thing that hurts me is my foot.”

      I was transported to the hospital for some diagnostic testing.  When the MRI results came back, the doctor gave me the news:

     “The bad news is that you will need surgery immediately because your foot was crushed.  But the good news is that you have no internal injuries whatsoever.  You should feel very lucky that you walked away from a head-on collision at such a high speed with nothing more than a foot injury.”

     I know why I survived that accident, and luck had nothing to do with it.  After the initial recovery period, I was unable to return to work.  However, I was able to receive disability compensation.  This gave me the opportunity to be available to care for my parents full time at the end of their lives.  I am very grateful to be alive, and I cherish the time that I was able to spend caring for my parents.  I will never forget what I saw in that split second before the impact.  Every time I think about it, I am reminded of God’s great love for us, and my heart is filled with awe because I know where my help comes from.  
    
Author: Carolyn Pregana

Acknowledgment: I want to thank my daughter-in-law Jaylin Palacio for writing this story for me. 

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