A Guest Blog

by Jaime Turner

Eyes Wide Open

 

One moment in July of 2004 will forever be seared in my mind. My firstborn son and I were in a head on collision a half mile from our home.

I can still see it in slow motion and was helpless to stop what was happening before my eyes.

I can still hear the sounds of my screaming baby as the other car slammed into ours.

I can still remember the eerie silence for the few moments after the impact when everything seemed to stand still.

I can still smell the smells. No one talks about them, but there is a distinct smell when all of your airbags deploy. I remember just screaming, “Jesus help!” in that flash of a moment.

What I will never forget, though, is the face that appeared at my driver’s window.

Almost immediately there was a man standing there. I could not get out of my door and was telling him to please help my baby. He told me to crawl through the other side. There were others who arrived and helped.

They got Elijah out of his car seat and showed this wreck-of-a-mother that he did not even have a scratch on him. One lady held him the whole time and comforted him. I am so grateful to her because I could not. The man, though, never left my side.

I still see his face, wrinkled and kind

I still see his clothes, tattered and dirty

I still see his hair, long and free

I still hear him, telling me that we were going to be okay—that he wasn’t leaving me.

He was standing in the middle of the road with me and then proceeded to tell me I needed to sit down. He sat me down in the car and that’s when I discovered my knee was cut wide open. How I was standing I have no idea. He tended to me until the firemen got there telling me all the while that he would not leave me.

The firemen did not expect to find us alive because of the calls they were getting. Fortunately, when they arrived, they were able to cancel LifeFlight.

I watched the long-haired man slowly walk away and down the road after that. Once my husband arrived at the scene he never saw him.

In the area we lived, there were lots of homeless people down the street from us. We would often stop and help when we could. I was certain he was one of those men, and I just wanted to find him and thank him for the way he helped me that day. I looked for him for months, but I never saw him again.

One day, my husband looked at me and said, “Did it ever occur to you that maybe God sent an angel for you just at that moment?” Until then, honestly it had not.

What I have learned since then is that Jesus doesn’t always look the way we think He might look.

He may show himself to us in the simple smile of a stranger on a rough day.

He may show himself to us in the kindness of a friend or neighbor.

He may show himself to us in the hug of a child.

He may show himself to us in the soft breeze that blows.

He may show himself to us in the helping hand of someone we may never see again.

I don’t want to miss him again. I want my eyes to be wide open to see Jesus, no matter where I am.

Get your love on by reading a Valentine's post "Love in a Taco Box; When Love Looks Different"  http://kristiburden.com/?p=7144

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