Jesus Took the Wheel

Thursday, October 13th, should have been my exit date. The date of my death. As I write this, I am humbled by the Mighty Hand of God, who took hold of my car’s steering wheel, preventing me from death, or worse, the death of others when I passed out while driving northbound on the 101.
Even now, as the dust settles, I feel numb,
I know I should be grateful; I am still numb and anxious. But, I am okay and still amazed as the paramedics, police, doctors, trauma team, and others that I am alive with minor injuries from the airbag and well. Also, no one else was injured or killed.

I wanted to tell you all about the miracle of how Jesus took the wheel and saved my life and the lives of others, but honestly, I feel numb. Maybe I am still in shock; I don’t know. However, I am grateful no one else was injured or killed. I can’t explain how the events unfolded because it was as if God took me out of my body while my car crashed and placed me back in when it came to a stop. I should not have walked away with minor injuries, and I should not be alive. After spending three days in the hospital with a series of tests, and everything returned normal, there was no explanation for why I passed out.

As I was driving on 101 heading northbound, I suddenly felt dizzy, and my vision was getting dark. I was on the slow lane and thought I could safely get off the freeway. I was feeling fine that day; my daughter and her family were coming to visit me on Saturday, and my oldest granddaughter was going to spend a few days with me. I had been looking forward to this weekend. I was planning on getting home early so I could stop by the store to pick up the few ingredients I needed to make Pasta Bake for my grandkids; they love my pasta bake. It was a good day, and I was grateful things seemed to be coming together. And then I crashed.
Suddenly, the sounds of bumps, cars honking, and debris from the pieces of my beautiful little car scattered on the highway woke me up. I did not feel anything; it was as if I had left my body while everything unfolded and placed back in afterward.

My car sat on the side rail, and I was still buckled in my seat belt. I was confused and dazed. When two men approached my car, they seemed just as shocked as I was. They told me that help was coming and asked me what had happened. I didn’t know; I was trying to figure out how I ended up on the side rails and where the blood on my seats and dashboard came from; what just happened?
I wondered who had taken the wheel and kept me from going into the oncoming traffic. Why didn’t my car steer left instead of right? Why didn’t the weight of my foot on the gas peddle cause my car to go full speed, roll over several times and kill me? Why didn’t God take me home? Who was steering the wheel away from oncoming traffic? Who took control while I was unconscious?

When the police arrived at the hospital to take my statement, an officer shook my hand and thanked me for trying to get off the freeway. He said I should be dead, and someone else was alive because of what I did. It wasn’t me; it was God who spared our lives. I may not ever meet the people who God saved along with me that day until we meet in heaven, and we may not know why until then, but I do know that Jesus took the wheel that day.

I am home, physically healing from the accident, and still shaken from the trauma; I am grateful for all the prayers and support from family and friends.