This Way or That Way

Friday, the 13th

Are you superstitious? I've tried and tried to convince myself that I'm not...but still anytime the thirteenth day of the month falls on a Friday, I am admittedly a little freaked out. I know deep down that it's just like any other day, but I just can't bring myself out of this funk. This morning as Straight Arrow and I were getting ready for him to leave for school, I was telling him my list of things to do today. Included on that list was a trip to Walmart. That's when he reminded me that it is Friday the 13th. My heart skipped a beat and it made me think back to a story that can be located in the

I was Friday, March 13, 1998. I was 16 years old and had my driver's license. My younger brother, Owen, was playing at a friend's house and it was beginning to get late. So, he called home and asked if he could spend the night with Matt. My parents agreed and offered to bring him a pair of pajamas. With no date scheduled, I was bored on this particular Friday night and offered to drive to the friends house to bring Owen his pajamas. About 2.5 miles from my house, on my way there, I was traveling in my little gray, 1987 Honda Civic on a road that had been under construction during the light part of the day. There was mud thickly caked on the road and it was slightly damp and slippery. As I came around a bend in the road, I found myself scrambling to keep my car under control and before I even realized what was happening, I was spinning out of control. My car slid off of the road, bounced off a ditch, swung around a telephone pole, and was then thrown into a grove of trees in someone's yard.

I was scared to death and had no way out of my car. I wasn't pinned, but the doors wouldn't open. I was bleeding from glass cuts and I didn't know if I was traumatically injured. I tried the passenger side doors and was able to get the front one open. Looking back, I was more concerned about being embarrassed about what had happened than wondering if I was going to live through this experience. I ran as fast as I could to this man's front door and explained what had happened and asked to use their phone to call my parents. Since this was back in the day of dial-up internet, someone in my parent's house was using the internet and I couldn't reach them. I finally resorted to calling my Uncle Dan, who lived nearby, and asked him to relay the message to my parents.

They eventually got to me and everything turned out to be okay. I can't believe I didn't go to the hospital...again, I think I was too prideful and too embarrassed to go. A police officer came to the scene of the accident and all I remember is that I did not get a ticket although he asked me numerous times if I was speeding. I still contend to this day that I was not.


It's memories like this that put my life into it's proper perspective. It is a day in my life that I will never forget. I will never forget the mercy and love that my Heavenly Father showed me in sparing my life. It also allows me to reflect on the mission and calling that He has for me and if I am living up to it.