Here is the story I promised:
I was on my way back home from a mission trip to New York. God had allowed me to use my gift with spanish and to meet a spanish speaking family that I am still in contact with. I thought God was finished with me. I realize that was an ignorant thought.
It was still daylight and we were travelling in a van and the church bus. Thank God I was on the van, much more comfortable. The church bus blew a tire, I believe it was an inner tire. We were stuck somewhere inbetween NY and TN... yeah I really don't know. This isn't the major part of the story just some important background.
So we ended up stuck at a gas station slash Subway for 30 mins then an hour then two and so on until I was completely fed up with the entire group I was with, angry with my best friend, and hungry because I hate subway. I felt rather guilty for being in such a bad mood on a mission trip so I went against everything I was feeling and prayed that God would use the time we were stranded to His glory, give me patience and a willing heart to serve Him, and keep us at the gas station as long as he wanted us to be there. Yeah, so I had no idea it would turn out to be FOUR hours.
After this small delay
we loaded onto the bus/van and headed for home, four hours past schedule. I called my mother and fell asleep hoping to be subconsciously unconcerned for the remainder of the trip.
"Oh my gosh! What was that!?"
"Should we call 911!?"
Yeah that's what I woke up to at 1130 PM just outside of Bristol, VA.
I saw a Semi Truck pull over after hitting a bump in the road and sleepy eyed... assumed it was all ok. We swerved and avoided the bump, pulled over and called 911. Chad C. and Daniel S. got out and of course all of us teenagers followed them like lemmings. They began yelling at us to get back inside the van. Then, a swerving semi backed up their opinion that it wasn't safe. We watched from the back window as Chad and Daniel waved their arms standing in the middle of the highway to keep vehicles from running over the previously mentioned bump in the road- a man who had been thrown from a white SUV and already run over by a semi (which as it turns out sped off as soon as we pulled over to avoid getting in trouble with the law). This was the extent of our knowledge as we circled together in the Van to pray. I remember looking up after "Amen" and seeing two things- an EMS truck flashing by, and Daniel knocking on the window.
"Carla, we need you out here."
(What the heck? Why?) "O...K..."
"They all speak Spanish."
"How bad is it?"
"I'm not gonna lie to you, it's pretty bad. Go get back in the van now if you can't do it."
I knew this was God answering my prayer back at the Gas station in a way I never could have imagined, so as I put my next foot forward I made one other prayer.
"God, I just noticed there's a lot of glass on the ground and I left my shoes in the van... please don't let my feet get hurt."
Following Daniel, I got out to the accident area at the exact same time as the EMS and Police. I talked to a man who said his name was Jose. He had a slash down his arm that was bleeding and he was holding a bandage over it. He was also really shaken up and seemed to be somewhat fading in and out of reality. I didn't really know what to do. I looked at the man in the road.
"?Como se llama el?" (What's his name?)
"Jose."
"?Como? ?es su nombre tambien?" (What? That's his name too?)
"Si. Jose Reyes." (Yeah, Jose Reyes)
Another man walked up to get medical attention from the EMS truck. Jose told me his name was Jose also. No joke. He was perfectly okay aside from being disoriented a little. They checked him out and I talked to him. He had been asleep in the backseat of the SUV. He didn't remember what happened. He just woke up to the car flipping around itself and into the grass on the shoulder of the highway. He was lucky to have been asleep. This cause his body to be limp, going with the flow so to speak, and not be injured from the impact of the crash.
I kept looking over my shoulder at the other Jose- "Reyes". He was now surrounded by EMS workers. They hollered at me to come over to him.
I knelt down on the blood soaked pavement and had to choke back all the natural human urge within me to cry and run away. Here was a man who had been thrown from the window of a car as it was flipping in mid air, had landed hard in the middle of the street and run over by at least one semi truck if not other vehicles. His body was in one lump. His legs were about six inches away from where they should have been attached to his body. The sound of the female EMS worker to my right broke my shock.
"You speak spanish?"
"Yes."
"Tell him to quit trying to stand up. He doesn't know."
I told him he couldn't get up. I told him he was hurt, that we were trying to help him. I told him anything I could to make him feel better. I kept talking, hoping I could make myself feel better. The EMS worker had to put some sort of IV in him and said "grab those gloves and put them on." She traded my hands for hers and in a moment without realizing it I was holding Jose's head in my hands. I kept praying for him without even knowing I had begun. I saw a light in the sky.
"?Puede Ud. ver esa luz? Es un helicoptero. Viene para llevarle al hospital. Esta bien. Esta bien."
(Can you see that light? It's a helicopter. Its coming to take you to the hospital. It's ok. It's ok)
I could feel the swirl of debris around my legs arms and face. I was worried it might scratch him. I think they made me leave after that and got him into the helicopter. I returned to the church bus and collapsed on the ground at the tailgate. Not having allowed myself to feel any emotion at all I was drained. Just as I started to let my feelings creep into my numb body an officer showed up.
"You the one who speaks Spanish?"
"Yes."
"You aren't done yet. Follow me."
I followed him, hopped into the back of the truck and interpreted between him and the other two gentlemen to get a statement of what had happened down on paper.
Afterwards, I got back into the van, surrounded by everyone and sat in silence while we continued home. We stopped at a gas station and overheard the news of our incident on a police scanner. At this point I realized I had my shoes on. I got back into the van and checked my feet. Not a scratch.
We got back home and everyone who had been on the bus instead of the van greeted me and hugged me. They had waited for us to come home.
Mom was there. When she hugged me, I finally felt like it was ok to feel again.
Now the point is: we wouldn't have been there if we hadn't been delayed four hours. we would have already been home and I would hear about it on the news like any other traffic accident. God wanted me to be there at that specific moment to use me. He changed my heart and made me patient and willing to serve Him. This was not just a coincidence.