This leads me to discuss the miracle that happened last Monday. Just five days before her nineteenth birthday, my baby sister flipped our car on the icy roads as she was driving home from class.
And she walked away with barely a scratch--just a broken fingernail and an aching arm. And I fully believe there was more protection going on than the mere seatbelt holding her in place; God deserves all the thanks for that. There is definitely joy found among the sorrows. What's a car, anyway?
I was at work at the time. I looked at my phone on my break to find a dozen missed calls. Dread filled me from head to toe. I knew something bad must have happened! But when I called back my mother I was a little confused by the calmness of her voice. She assured me that everything was okay, but my eyes stung with tears as she told me about the accident just a few hours earlier. How close I had come to losing someone so precious to me!! I love the sense of humour Catherine had about it, "I was going around the turn, and then... it kept turning and wouldn't stop!" and "Ever since it happened, I see Impalas everywhere!" She feels so guilty about wrecking the car. All I wanted was to rush home to give her the biggest hug of my life.
I finally got to do that on Friday, on her birthday. It's been a rough week for too many reasons and having this weekend off came at a very opportune time. I was so anxious to go home and be with my family for a couple of days and to share some birthday cake...
