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.