It seems like lots of things are getting broken around here these days. The camera needs to go into the shop. The sewing machine needs to be picked up from the shop. Noah's teeth have broken through the skin (and I can see more to come!). Oh, and did I mention that a car broke our house this past weekend? Thanks to God, we are broken but not destroyed.
I debated whether to really blog about the accident that occurred this past Sunday at 2 a.m. I want our blog to be full of wonderful memories and photos that I can look back at years from now and laugh, cry and remember precious moments. This is not one of those precious moments so I think I'll pass on sharing the photos I don't care to remember and just let the story unravel as I type.
We were asleep in dreamland when Lucas and I were suddenly awoken by the sound of screeching car tires. I actually remember feeling myself brace for impact as I somehow knew something more was coming. We heard, and felt, the loud impact of the car hitting the outside of our home. I'm so, so thankful, that the Lord gave me the right mind to immediately grab the phone and begin dialing 911 while running to Noah's room in case I needed to grab him.
There is something so incredibly surreal about seeing headlights shining directly through your downstairs front window, especially when you live in a gated community across from an open grassy field. We are so thankful that for what was a bad situation, it could have been much worse. The Dodge Intrepid ended up running first over our tree and into our large column that supports the overhang to our house, and becoming high-centered on the cement base of the column. This, and the wonderful Hand of God, is what I believe stopped his car from going full-force into our downstairs room. And no, he was not intoxicated...just not the brightest guy on the block.
We're now the talk of the neighborhood. I've seen neighbors come slowly walking past our home (even heard their gasps of surprise) that I've never seen before and cars that literally stop in their tracks to see the accident that is behind that lovely yellow caution tape. Now, we wait. Wait on insurance. Wait on general contractors. And wait for our home to be put back together again.
Everyone is alright. I hear the squealing tires and impact in my head every night as I close my eyes to go to bed, but as I poured out my fears to my wonderful husband he comfortingly reminded me that the Lord is our Protector and I do not need to fear. Relief. So true.
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4 comments:
oh goodness, Marianne! what a mess, having to deal with insurance and all. glad you are all ok...what about the other guy?
Wow! That is quite the story! I am so glad to hear you are all safe!
You may not believe this, but a very similar thing happened to my family when I was about 12. My mom had a lady over, and as she was leaving, she put her car in reverse instead of drive, and pushed down on the gas, hard. She drove into our big 80s van, which smushed a small bush-like tree and then hit our house, cracking the interior walls. It felt like a small earthquake from where I was playing upstairs. We were always thankful the propane-fueled van did not explode. Today, the story is somewhat funny for our family. Even though it's not now, hope yours will be for you someday, too! :-)
Wow! I'm a bit speechless. I can't even imagine how that happened. Did he just turn a bit too early? Call (REALLY!) if you need a thing.
Oh my goodness! We couldn't believe this story when we read it. We are so thankful that you all are ok and that it wasn't worse. We are keeping you in our prayers. Know that we're thinking of you lots!
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