(This is somewhat dated, having been written in 2010 and published in a column of the Mansfield New-Mirror, but I wanted to share it again on this blog. I hope it inspires you.)
On Thursday, March 18, 2010, just after nine o’clock in the morning, my nineteen-year old son was in a severe car accident.
For forty-five minutes, that is all that we knew in this whole world.
Everything else stopped.
We were out camping with my oldest daughter, son-in-law and granddaughter. As we sat down for breakfast, we got the call. Within five minutes as we were frantically making phone calls to ascertain where my son was and his condition, we had extinguished our fire, and were headed for Dallas.
Eventually we discovered my son had survived and been air-lifted to Baylor. As we arrived and as the day passed the doctors told us he was fine except a deep laceration on his head requiring seventeen staples, a concussion and plenty of cuts and bruises and he was released that night.
On Thursday, Mar 18, 2010, just after nine o’clock in the morning, my nineteen-year old son was in a severe car accident, and he is going to be fine.
"He is going to be fine." These are the most precious words I have heard in my life. This was a most difficult week, and deeply personal. I hesitated to share this today, but it has had such a profound impact on us I wanted to share it with you as a reminder (as it has been a reminder to me) of several things.
First, life is supremely precious. Simply put, life is the singular most precious thing in existence. God is the author and creator of all life. Even human lives that reject him and run from him are precious to him.
Genesis 2:7 tells us “The Lord God formed the man from the soil of the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a living being” ( NET Bible). He formed us in the womb (Jeremiah 1:5) and as the Psalmist says as well, “For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb; I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made” (Psalm 139:13-14, NIV).
If none of this persuades you, try a mental experiment: close your eyes and for about thirty seconds pretend life does not exist anywhere – what do you see? There, that ought to do it.
Second, life is incredibly fragile. Physical life, that is. Our bodies can be destroyed by a germ a billionth its size. We are surrounded by dangers everywhere. We intentionally inject ourselves into danger – usually to help others, but often it is just a part of life - like driving or flying. I heard a comedian once point out, “Think about it – when we get into an airplane, we are literally sitting in a chair in the sky going at hundreds of miles per hour!” My friends, take care of the temple God has given you. Life is precariously dangerous.
Although physical life is fragile, eternal life is not. One of the fundamentals of Scripture is that all of those in Christ possess eternal life. One of the aspects of eternal life in Christ is that it is indestructible.
Third, family and friends are among the greatest gifts in life. People rallying in prayer. People genuinely offering themselves to assist. The bonds of family and friendship are tested in these times. Just being there, hugging, loving, assuring, hoping, talking, listening, even joking and laughing once the crisis is averted. I told my son he was now a “seventeen-pointer” because of the staples (he’s an excellent deer hunter). I called him “staple-head.” When the facial surgeon was working on him, I asked him if he had a few extra minutes, he might “do some improvement.” My son even asked him if he could fix “the nose.”
The next day, I lost count of the “mothers” he had – his mom, sisters, girlfriend, several friends, and even my three-month old granddaughter. All babying him. I’m certain that he will drag that out.
The following day, when I was convinced my son was going to be fine, I returned to our campsite with my son-in-law to break camp and bring our equipment home. When I arrived at the campsite, it caught me off guard. Everything was exactly as we left it. An empty Styrofoam™ cup I had been drinking hot chocolate from was still sitting on the table —upright as I had left it. Not even the wind had disturbed our camp for twenty-four hours. The thought that went through my mind was that there must have been angels in the camp, waiting for us and reminding of their presence and that He— our Heavenly Father—had not forgotten us. The camp was just like we left it. And our son is just like we left him, a little beat up, but safe.
On Sunday, March 21, 2010, just after eleven o’clock in the morning, my nineteen–year old son stood up during the worship time at our church, lifted his hands to heaven and praised his Heavenly Father.
He is going to be just fine.
©2010 by Ben Bounds. All rights reserved.
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