It’s a very winding, treacherous dirt and gravel mountain road strewn with large boulders all along its edges. The sides drop steeply as the tall pines stretch towards the heavens. I see their tops blown and bristled against the distance in some places as we descend with ever increasing speed. It’s beginning to scare me along with everyone else in the car. I’m sitting in the front passenger seat while three others are crowded together in the back. We’re driving entirely too fast, and for whatever reason, our driver believes she can maintain control. Why she doesn’t slow down no one present in the car knows. With a cry of fear and terror, I beg her to slow down before we reach the next curve and large boulders that are our only means to prevent us from flying off the edge and into the abyss. She loses control and we careen into, onto and over the boulders. We all scream with terror and fear in anticipation of the long journey down and our inevitable death.
The screaming ceases, if only for a brief moment, as we realize we haven’t crashed down the 400-500 feet to the ground near the speck of a stream flowing there. I note that we have somehow, miraculously landed atop a towering pine. Turning to the group I tell them to hold on as we are about to lose our perch. Down, down, down… The screaming rings in my ears as we whirl in a plunging spiral towards the earth and death. It’s over! The car is crushed nearly flat as it landed top down with full impact.
I’m aware of people milling around the car and paramedics tending to my friends. I’m being pulled from the car even as I watch from a short distance. My body is bloody and crushed. I mutter aloud that I don’t understand how we weren’t all killed. We couldn’t have possibly survived that kind of impact. It dawned on me that I had been praying all the way down for God to save us or take us home. I prayed that my children and family would not suffer too much with the burden of losing their father, husband, brother in such a manner. I then realize that I am watching this scene play out in front of me and I am not a survivor. I died…
As I turn to look at the person standing next to me he nods his head in affirmation of my epiphany. A sense of relief rushes over me as goosebumps stand up and fall back again all over my body. I’m dead, but I’m alive and unafraid. I know I am safe and in the presence of Jesus. This short time for me on earth is complete and I will now go home and see my dad and grandparents again. There is solace in this feeling that I cannot explain in this short work. I only know that the Holy Spirit descended upon me in a dream that changed my life forever. My soul is claimed, safe and I’m okay.
Writing simple poetry, song lyrics and short stories has become so important to me over the past few years. When I began my words were therapy for me though at the time I didn’t realize it. I certainly never considered how impactful these words would become in my life and, from time to time, in other’s lives too. What thrills me most is the feedback and how many different opinions and interpretations I get from one poem read through the eyes of others. When I write the words simply flow without me getting too caught up in whatever theme may arise. It simply starts with a line or sentence then blossoms from there. I’ve been told it’s a gift, and while somewhere deep within me I believe that to be true, I wonder why it took so long to develop even as it continues to grow. My grandfather was a writer, so perhaps that is where the answer lies. Regardless, I hope you find some meaning, some smiles, some tears or something else worthy of your time here within these scripts.