Saturday, August 19, 2006


I am not kidding, Mama. Quit reading this. Final warning.

So I was on my way to Stamp Club tonight. (Tonight was my night to host, so I had been cooking all day. I ran out of time and had Scott make the spinach artichoke dip while I showered. So, see, Mama, I did get it all done, one way or another. But you aren't supposed to be reading this. I am getting tired of warning you.) I got to the end of Frank Scott Parkway and was sitting at the red light, waiting to turn left. I was thinking about Kara, crying a little and praying a little, and watching the time, trying to figure up if I was going to get there on time (which in my family means 5 minutes early), and keeping an eye on that spinach dip because it was having a tendency to slosh just a little and I couldn't get it to sit flat. A lot going on in my mind.

The light turned green.

And I saw it turn green.

And it registered that the light was green.

But I didn't go. I just sat there for about 3 seconds, looking at this green light, . Finally the car behind me honked, and I *still* didn't go. Two seconds later, a navy-blue SUV coming from the left, came flying out of nowhere and blasted through their stoplight without so much as tapping the brakes. My mouth fell open and I looked in my rearview mirror and locked eyes with the woman behind me, whose mouth was also wide open. If I had gone when the light first changed, she would have been in the intersection at the same time as the SUV. If I had gone when she honked, it would have been me in the intersection.

When I told Katrice about it, she said that it was God that kept me still. The more I think about it, I think she was more right than she knows. I mean, I am not one to sit at a green light, especially when I am, say, hosting a party that starts in 15 minutes, and I seriously think those 5 seconds were the only ones all day that I was completely still. Yet there I sat, totally aware of the green light, but with absolutely no urge to move. Everytime I think about it, I get chickenskin on my arms.


Mama Nirvana said...

Amazing! It is times like those that we are reminded that God knows us and is protecting us. Thank you so much for sharing that frightening, yet beautiful story.

I know what you mean about protecting your mom ;) My mom's the same way.

Love, Amy

Wendy said...

This is your mother and I did read it. It scared me and yes, I did lie awake worrying about you. But finally just added another entry to my prayer journal.

I love you the mostest,