Accident
Merrily we were rolling along for the third holiday concert in three days. What a gift to have grandchildren applying themselves to learn, expressing themselves through melody-harmony-rhythm-ensemble, enjoying the fruit of rehearsals and practice and patience and all that is part of youth music programs. As we approached the high school, just seconds away from arriving, BANG! An accident. Side-swiped all along the passenger side. Stopped in the middle of Tysons Corner, startled and stunned, but thank you Lord! not injured.
One of the girls said she “didn’t play as well as she would have liked” at Sunday’s gig - which I suppose means she was aware of some mistakes. Mistakes are different from accidents, because we include the element of control - if I had practiced more, or if I had held my tongue, or if I had studied harder, or if I had paid better attention. Mistakes are supposed to help us learn if we will let them. What can I do differently next time? or what changes can I make now to avoid that happening again? etc. Funny, but I think accidents are actually similar, in that there’s this second-guessing, what-could-I-have-done-to-avoid-this narrative that begins almost immediately.
“Accidents happen. Mistakes are normal. And both disrupt with brutal nonchalance. ”
Accidents happen. Mistakes are normal. And both disrupt with brutal nonchalance.
As I sat in the middle of the road behind the steering wheel, flashers on, aggravating drivers behind me, waiting on police to arrive, I breathed. I breathed and I thought to myself - “What are you feeling? How would you speak to yourself at this moment if you were someone in your congregation?” I thought: maybe I would say, “This didn’t take God by surprise; he is here with you.” Or some other true thing that clangs around in the middle of chaos and is hard to hold on to. I breathed again.
And I gave myself the gift of choosing peace, maybe I should say fighting for peace. I was rattled. There were a couple of moments where Craig and I were each in conversation on our phone with the insurance company and the police, plus the other driver standing outside my window, where I couldn’t keep straight what to do next. But I accepted the strength flowing from my husband and I worked at it - choose peace. The rattled, startled, skittish feelings poked and sprang and whizzed about, and I also continued to work at calm, welcome wisdom and accept reality.
Mind you - all this was without any physical injuries, so I’m reluctant to even talk about it, because I have friends and family that have suffered so much more in accidents, sustaining injuries that take months or years to recover from, and some have even lost their dear ones to death in an automobile accident. Please know I am not attempting to compare my experience to yours - just sharing a thing that happened this last week.
So here we are, one week before Christmas, and I thought I would write about something different. But accidents happen, and they disrupt, and maybe that’s something I can take to heart at Christmas. We tend to create scripts and wishlists and ideal scenarios for Christmas, and even now are looking ahead two weeks to our hope-filled plans and goals for a sparkling 2020. Immanuel, God with us, is meant for all the moments - the merrily rolling along and the walks in a winter wonderland and the rides in a one-horse-open-sleigh. And the inconvenient accidents and mistakes, sicknesses and pains, brokenness and failures. All of it. God is with us.
The circumstances of Christ’s birth read like a series of unfortunate events - unwed pregnancy, forced immigration, lack of shelter, and of course, now it’s time for the baby to come! I love to ponder God’s presence, his with-me reality, in quiet, pleasant, beautiful places, or with community brimming with warmth, song and love. But the truth is, he is present in the stark cold, the dark night, the lonely and helpless moments when no one seems to care. He shows up at the point of inconvenience. He’s in the room during that bitter conflict. This is the hope of the gospel. A Savior has been born. He is Christ the Lord. He will save his people from their sins. These true things ring loudly, sing deeply, and ribbon through all the quirky disruptions to our Christmas.
Scripture Meditation and Affirmation:
Matthew 1:21-23
21 She will give birth to a son, and you are to give him the name Jesus, because he will save his people from their sins.”
22 All this took place to fulfill what the Lord had said through the prophet: 23 “The virgin will conceive and give birth to a son, and they will call him Immanuel” (which means “God with us”).
Prayer:
Immanuel, please help me see past my mistakes, through life’s accidents, beyond disappointment. Help my heart know you are with me, that you are Savior, that you are Lord. Help me experience the peace that the angels proclaimed and the scriptures promise.