Each and every moment we breathe, we owe thanks to God. The next moment of life is not promised to us and can change in an instant. Certainly everyone would love to live a care-free, worry-free, problem-free life. However, we all know that at some point in our lives, we have met or will meet an unexpected, unanticipated event. Sometimes our very existence may be threatened.
You may recall a time when you walked away from a car accident that was far worse than anyone could imagine. Perhaps you had no injuries, barely a scratch, or perhaps your injuries were not as severe as they could have been. It does not matter the event for you to recognize that it was God who spared your life. The interesting thing is that these are the moments of which we are aware. What about the moments we never see—the unseen dangers that God keeps from us? The fact that you are reading this book at this very moment is enough reason to give God praise. You are still here. You have breath in your body to give God his due praise.
I remember one of my unexpected events quite vividly. My brother had just purchased a new car. Several days later, I asked him if I could borrow his car to go visit a friend. I had a car, but I wanted to drive the “new” car. My brother was cool about it but gave me what I thought was a bit of a lecture at the time. He went on about how we do not want to allow material things to control us and how it was just a car. He cautioned me to make sure that I wore my seatbelt (which I always do) because we could replace the car if something happened, but we could not replace me. I thought he was being a bit sentimental about the new car and really thought nothing more about the conversation. I assured him that I always wear my seatbelt, and out the door I went.
It was around six thirty in the evening on a weekday, and I had been driving on the highway for no more than ten minutes. The traffic flow was swift but not race car speed as it can be sometimes. I remember driving in the fast lane but not the far-left lane. I noticed that there was a flatbed truck in front of me with a load of what appeared to be junk—just a lot of stuff. I noticed there were two barrels on top that were the size of garbage cans. I fussed a bit about it because the driver should not have been in the fast lane or even on the highway with all of that stuff crammed on the truck.
I did a quick glance for the license plate and noticed there was not one. The thought entered my mind that I needed to get from behind the truck just in case something fell off of it. I did a quick rearview mirror check to see if I could change lanes. I noticed a tractor trailer, an eighteen-wheeler, was fast approaching to my right. I knew I would not have enough clearance to change lanes. And then, at the very moment that I looked ahead again, my concern became a near-death reality. It was as though it happened in slow motion. One of the barrels fell from the truck, struck the hood of my car, and then bounced underneath the car. The brakes locked, and the car swerved violently toward the median wall. The car bounced off the median wall and veered back into the flow of traffic. And there it was—the same tractor trailer I saw in my rearview mirror just moments before, but this time my car was heading underneath it. I could see the underbelly of the truck. There was nothing I could do.
It was as though my car had a mind of its own, and it was barreling straight underneath that truck. I remember thinking, I am going to die. I began screaming, “Jesus, save me. Jesus, save me. Jesus.” I knew I would die. At that very moment, I heard glass breaking and the sound of crushing metal. I thought I was dead. I could no longer see, but I could hear and sense everything. During the impact, I continued to hear the sound of breaking glass and crushing metal, and then suddenly everything went silent. No noise. No movement. Surely I’m dead, I thought. And be then there was this bright light that appeared in the silence. As I got closer to the light, it got brighter and brighter. It was as though I was in a dream. It didn’t seem real. I was in another place that I cannot describe.
I could not see or feel my body, but I knew I was awake, but where I didn’t know. It was a peaceful feeling. As the light got closer and brighter, I saw the face of my deceased brother, Rickey. However, I felt like I was talking to my brother whose car I was driving, telling him over and over again, “I don’t believe this is happening to me.” I was dying, but I was not ready to die. I couldn’t believe it. I was in shock. I had just had a conversation with my brother before I left the house. Was I on my way to heaven? I sure would have liked to think so.