During the wreck I remember thinking: don't let go, don't let go. After the wreck and I was holding Kaiya in my lap and everyone was fine and safe I remember thinking: you can let go now. Sometimes, it's OK to let go. Sometimes you are just not in control and it's not the end of the world. You may have road-rash or bumps and bruises but there's not use in being dragged by this life when you can just let go, get banged up, and then start all over. What any of this actually means I haven't quite figured out yet but maybe when I do I'll let you know.
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
I consider myself a tough woman but I wasn't tough enough to stop a car. Who would be of course, except some superhero? (I do have a superpower though... I make milk. I just love those t-shirts.) The hardest part about my recent car-wreck was this notion that I was not in control. Because of course, I was the furthest thing from it. I was outside of the car and I have discovered from first-hand experience that trying to drive a car from the floor-board of it is not a good idea. I've had this notion that in some ways it was like a metaphor for my life. What I can't figure out though is if I'm supposed to be in the driver's seat or if I'm supposed to be strapped in the backseat and lettin' Jesus do the driving. I suppose it's the age-old Calvinism-Armenism question: are we swimming and about to drown or are we on the bottom of the sea-bed and no hope at all. Either way the feeling of being out of control was pretty clear. And if it's me in the driver's seat with his power or me in the little booster seat all buckled up and safe I guess it doesn't really matter so long as we get to where we need to get to. (And not crashed into the garage.)