Today was cold. Clouds were dark and thick. I love fall. It brings the promise of great holidays and lots of family time. I’m a hermit so I’m not sure why I like the holidays. So many people. Maybe because I’m just glad to be reminded that family is still there no matter how much I hide.
I surround myself with lessons, booking gigs, working on my craft, being consistent, reaching out to people when quite honestly I feel frightened and I just want to hermit my way inside, grab a book and sit in silence.
Failure is so cruel. Actually the fear of failure is more cruel. It’s so stinking paralyzing. I feel like I’m back at the beginning where it all started.
Speaking of which, I’m going to reminisce and tell you a story not many of you may actually know. It goes way back to 2007. My family and I were living out in Aurora, IL, we had just moved into our first house in February, and we were heading to Donna’s folks for Easter weekend. Life was good. We had 5 children. Lyssa was a new baby, my brother Mike was living with us and I was making more money than I ever had with my flooring installation business.
We had just made it into Indiana over by Michigan City when Lyssa wanted to eat. So I pulled over so Donna could feed her and around the same time a freak snow storm was blowing through the area. It was just in this particular part of Indiana because it wasn’t snowing when we left Illinois.
Lyssa just finished eating. It was around midnight and I started out again. Donna put Lyssa back in her car seat. We had a minivan packed with 8 people. Not much more than a minute later I came over this small hill and the van started to slide on black ice. Now I’ve been raised around this kind of stuff and I even got my license in the middle of winter in Indiana so this was nothing new. But I knew as soon as the tail of the van came around that I wasn’t going to pull out of this one.
I told Donna as much and I knew also that we were going to flip because of the way we were sliding into the grass median and the angle and speed. My first thought was, “Who is not going to make it out of this alive?” You don’t flip a minivan with 8 people in it and everyone walk away. We hit the median and I said, “Oh help us Jesus.” I heard the windows blow out on all sides and then I felt the roof hit my head and my next thought was, “Oh it’s me. So this is how it happens.”
A couple of my kids remember dark skinned angles picking them up and putting them into warm cars. That’s how they described it. I remember waking up and not being able to make any sense of why I couldn’t pick Donna’s coat of the ground. It was pinned beneath the van which was laying on it’s side. I also didn’t realize that I had crawled out of the front window. I thought I had opened the door.
The story is too much to write in one setting. There’s so much to say. So I’m going to put this in several installments.
So now I’m here again, somewhat paralyzed by fear of what’s next. I’ve been here before many times since this accident so you would think that I would know the right thing to say or do to get out of this funk. But I don’t. I’m only human and our circumstances change so much that we never really do face the same thing twice. I’m learning to trust more each day in a God who loves me deeply and personally. Really like no one else. He loves you differently than me. But he does love us equally.
Thanks for hanging out and starting this with me. There’s a story to be told and so much after this “small beginning”.