Many of you know about the car accident I had on January 1st, and how lucky I am with the way everything turned out. More importantly, I was shown a series of God's good graces throughout the whole ordeal. This past Sunday, I probably received the biggest one yet.
Billy was out of town on a fishing trip, so I braved mass by myself with Will (not an easy task these days...sitting still is not his idea of a good time). After ten minutes, Will had decided he'd had enough, so I made my way to the back of the church.
I was located at the main entrance of the church, but Will decided he wanted to run around to the other side of the church--and I was glad he did. When we made our way there, I found an enclave for parents with small children. There was a row of seats for the parents, and there were several kids toddling around--a much better place for us to be.
Will and I sat down and as I looked up, I saw Paul, the nephew of the man I hit with our truck, come out the door directly in front of me with his six-month old son (I was in the vestibule, he had been in the main area of the church). I hadn't seen him since the day I ran into him at church a couple of months ago. He immediately saw me and smiled. We both said hello but it was the middle of mass, so it was a quick exchange.
Paul went back into the church with his son. As mass was ending, I saw him lean over and talk to someone next to him. They both turned to come out the same door Paul had walked through earlier. As they came through the door, I immediately recognized the person with Paul: his uncle, Tim Luna. The man on a motorcycle I hit while driving our truck.
I hadn't seen Tim since he was whisked away in an ambulance the day of the accident and he had been covered in blood and full body motorcycle gear. But I still recognized him. I was nervous, but immediately drawn to talk to him. They walked right over to me.
"Here she is," said Paul.
I wasn't sure what was going to come next, but the first thing out of Tim's mouth was "I am so glad to meet you" with a sincere smile on his face. What? This coming from a man who I could have killed. A man whose wrist I broke, causing him to have two surgeries and ultimately, lose income (I found out later that he remodels homes for a living.) He proceeded to tell me how sorry he was that my year had to start that way, and that he was grateful that I had such wonderful insurance coverage--he thanked me for that. And he also told me how much God has blessed him; he has a friend who's been staying with him, helping Tim with some of his jobs, so he still has some means for making income.
I was stunned. I am the one who should apologize and thank him for being so gracious. I stumbled over my words as I tried to tell him how sorry I am, how thankful I am that he's ultimately fine. But more importantly, how grateful I am for the opportunity to meet him, be forgiven by him.
Again, I walked away humbled by God's grace. If Billy hadn't been out of town, if I hadn't gone to mass alone with Will, if Will hadn't run to the other side of the church, if, if, if....all I know is I'm thankful. And reminded again of how good life is.
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