Okay, so I've had 24 hours to think on what happened yesterday and I'm still taking it all in. It's amazing how something that only took seconds to happen can occupy a significant part of your attention, memory and emotion -- when it's something that could have killed you.
I mean, I joked about it in the blog because, well, it was laugh or cry, y'know? And I really didn't feel like crying; I was just stunned at the near-absurdity of it all.
I've had some interesting reactions from friends after I told them. Some said "you should have gotten the trucker's name and license plate number" or that I should have said something to the trucker. To that, I responded "I was just grateful to be alive!" It really didn't enter my mind to get any info from the trucker. I must be a lawyer's biggest disappointment. I probably would have had a legitimate claim but I'm not interested in suing anyone or extorting money (some say "damages") from anyone. I guess I'm weird like that.
Physically, I'm a little stiff in my left shoulder today but it's really not bad.
I've been warned it might get worse and I suppose it might. I've just been trying to take it easy on it. First Light performs at church tonight and, Lord willing, I'll be fine for that.
My thoughts keep coming back to two things:
- The mercy of the Lord on my life; and
- Why was that 18-wheeler in a residential neighborhood?
I'm probably never going to know the latter, so I'm better off just focusing on the mercy of the Lord and His Will for my life.
Again, I come back to the absurdity of the situation: how many people actually get run over by 18-wheelers at crosswalks?? It can't be a high number!
But it nearly happened...only the Lord spared me from falling over completely and getting run over by the tires (sorry for the grisly imagery) or something worse, had the truck been going faster. Still, it doesn't matter if the truck is going five miles an hour; if it runs over you at that speed, you're still either badly injured or dead.
But I'm not. The driver stopped the truck. I assumed he heard the sound of me hitting the side of his truck and that's why he stopped. Another friend of mine got very concerned when she considered that in order for it to be loud enough for the driver to hear or feel, it might have been a harder contact that I realized. She thought that the adrenaline in my system from running (and near panic) was why I didn't feel anything -- which may be true. I just don't know. She was concerned I might "feel it" in a week or so. I don't know that either.
Sorry this is a longer than usual blog entry. I don't usually ponder why I'm still breathing and its significance. I just know that God spared me another day to work out my soul salvation.
Best Wishes,
Allen
Phillipians 2: 12-13 (King James Version)
The Apostle Paul, speaking to the Church at Phillipi
12 Wherefore, my beloved, as ye have always obeyed, not as in my presence only, but now much more in my absence, work out your own salvation with fear and trembling.
13 For it is God which worketh in you both to will and to do of his good pleasure.
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