Wednesday, August 1, 2018

I saw him coming across four lanes of traffic..



September 11, 2001 

  Lindsay pulled  up along side of  us smiling, and waving her       hand. She had just finished praying for the nation, She insisted on going to this meeting, though she  was eight months pregnant. The last thing she did  on planet earth was attend a special prayer meeting.

Why,when disaster struck us, did it seem so random?  I guess because it happened so suddenly,a man just fell asleep at the wheel of a car.  We all saw it, a severely impaired drugged driver hit our nineteen year old daughter, Lindsay, head on,  as she was returning from a prayer meeting.  









September 11, 2001, an infamous day in the history of the United States, was a day that would profoundly change the lives of our family members forever.   For us it was in the evening, not the morning, not at the Twin Towers but on a street in Midwest America. This is where good met evil. Some would call it a tragic accident but this was no accident to God.  On that street the angels gathered with their wings folded in worship and escorted two souls to the throne of God. 

Our daughter, Lindsay and grand-daughter, Emily Hope died that night. But they are forever alive in heaven.   W are constrained to tell another story of  September 11,2001 and make sense of the grief, and glory that followed.

Grief has a different tinge then that of  mental illness.  Oh, there are similarities. But what I felt that night was not the same as having endogenous (biological) depression.  I know the horror of deep depression. It is  treatable, and can be taken care of by medication. How I thank God for that blessing. 

But the trauma that I experienced that day took away something in my soul, in my psyche, that no pill could ever touch. It was as though, someone thrust his hand into my body, and pulled out my heart.  I felt like an animal whose paw is caught in a trap. I was overwhelmed and overcome with grief.  Part of me died that day; I will never be the same.






All of us who were in the van, have PTSD.  It has gotten better after seventeen years, but at the sound of one siren, or the possibility of crashing into a car can bring it back in a second. Your PTSD may be from some thing else but there is always the common thread of symptoms. God cares about you and your trauma.All your tears are in a bottle.
"And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain. For the for the former things are passed away."(Revelation 24:4) Meditate on these verses!

Please see my blog http://sbloemreflections.blogspot.com/2018/07/why-should-every-church-have-copy-of.html