Finding God in a Field

I am inspired to write about God. I know this is a tricky subject but as this is my blog, I am entitled to write about anything I want. That’s the best thing about writing a blog. And because none of you ever comment, I feel as though no one reads it. It is mine alone.

I am a person without a religion, but I have my God. There have been two occasions in my life when God was a direct presence. I will tell about the first. I knew it was Her. I’m not all about calling my God, Him all the time, I think He could just as easily be a She.

The first was when I was 21. I was a very reckless teen, right up until the incident. I got a fake ID when I was 18. I honestly just wanted to dance in the clubs. It was a terrible ID. Some woman at the restaurant I worked in left it at the bar. My manager thought it looked a little like me so he gave it to me. She didn’t look anything like me. I had really short hair and the woman in the picture had long hair. That’s the only thing anyone ever commented on, “oh, you cut your hair.”

When I turned 21, the dancing turned very abruptly into drinking. I loved to drive fast after a night at the bar. After my more recent history, that terrifies me now. One night, a friend of mine was driving my car because I was doing shots. She drove herself home, with me passed out in the seat next to her. When we arrived, she woke me to hand me the keys, and send me on my way.

I was lost and drunk. I remember realizing I was going the wrong direction. It was raining, hard. I flipped a bitch in the middle of the street, in the rain, and managed to slam my car into a utility pole. My seat broke backwards and my head crashed through the back windshield.

I don’t remember crashing. I don’t remember flying through the windshield. What I remember is my affirmation that there is a God. I knew there was rain, and I knew I should feel cold, but I felt very warm and safe. I know this is cliché’ I don’t really care. There was a very bright light in my memory and the reassuring voice of God, telling me I would be okay.

I know, the skeptics say, that it was the firemen or EMT’s trying to reassure me. But I know, without a doubt in my mind, that it was God.

The only other bit of evidence I have to offer is even more of a mystery. When my mom arrived at the hospital, after being called out of her sleep to come to my aid, a policeman told her he saw me out of the car wondering around in the field. I was never out of the car. The rescue team had to use the Jaws of Life to get me out of the car. I don’t remember any of that, but I saw the car afterwards.

I don’t know if it was my soul, wondering in that field or if it was Her coming to my side, but it wasn’t me. I know I didn’t get out of that car on my own.

I am grateful I didn’t kill anyone that night. I am grateful I didn’t kill myself. I know that wasn’t my story. God tapped me on the shoulder, and I knew I had to pay attention. My story isn’t completely told. There are chapter’s no one knows but me. I am saddened when I hear a friend or a loved one tell me there is no God. I know they are wrong and I wonder, why hasn’t God made Himself known to them? I may never know, but my inclination is, He has, they just may not have been listening.