One day I was driving six of my friends back from a lake. At the top of a hill, I took a turn too quickly on the gravel road. As the back of the vehicle swung out of control, I tried to quickly correct my mistake. We spun back and forth a few times before I realized that I had only made things worse by fighting the motion of the car.
The SUV dipped into a small gully on the right side of the road, lifted over a small ridge, and smashed through a fence. The car began to tumble down a hill. My friends claim to have blacked out during the crash. I didn’t black out. I couldn’t. I had nothing to lose. I simply watched it happen, and the only thing that came to my mind were the words, Well, Jesus, this is it.
I know now that Jesus was saying, This isn’t it. He had something better in mind. He had a plan for me. I thought that since I had failed at life, perhaps it was time to give up and go home. However, through this scary situation, Jesus was depositing inside my soul the belief that I had a purpose.
Miraculously, the vehicle came to a stop right-side up, and we all crawled out. For almost a year, I had thought my life was over, but God reminded me that it wasn’t. He showed me that bruises heal. He reminded me that He can mend the cuts and scrapes of life. I did not realize it that day, but He was beginning to stitch me up.
After the crash, I began to seek the Lord, both in prayer and in reading the Bible. One night, the Holy Spirit spoke to me. And what he spoke to me was the grace of God. He told me that he loved me, and the consequences of all my sins and failures were paid for by Jesus on the cross.