God’s plan? – editor’s letter sept 2010

Editor’s Note: Following is a page from my spiritual journal.? GOD’S PLAN?

I stood beside my Pontiac in the July morning sunshine and felt warmth on the back of my denim jacket. At least I can feel the sun! I had not felt anything for the last ten, fifteen or maybe even twenty minutes. How long ago did I turn the corner onto East Paris Road? Then I drove through the green light at Lake Street.…

But that was that last thing I remembered until… WHAM! I ran a red light and hit a black four-door car broadside at the next intersection. I hit that car! Is this a dream? I had better move off the road.
The station wagon’s engine had a peculiar rattle as I drove slowly up an extra lane and into the parking lot of a brick and glass building set behind a large empty blacktop space.

I’d better call the police.
“Did you call the police?”
“Yes, and a tow truck”

“Are you the one I hit?”

“No, she is.” He pointed to a twenty-ish woman in slacks lifting a toddler-sized child from the safety seat next to the bent door that took the impact.

“Is anyone hurt?”

“Not that I can tell.”

“Just a helpful bystander.”
“Thank you.”

I walked slowly back to my car. What will I need? Registration… mm…Like pouring refrigerated honey, my brain felt slow. Think! I frowned and tried to focus. The police will want my driver’s license… AAA card…More time passed. An emergency unit wailed onto the scene. One walked to where I stood and asked, “Are you hurt?”


Black squad cars flashed in. I watched as officers interviewed others. The female officer came to me last. She asked me which lane I was in. I guessed. Then she asked if I saw the red light.

“No… ”

“Where were you the last time you saw the light?”

I had already tried to remember and had to guess again. I waved toward a spot about fifty yards back from the intersection. “Back there by those trees…”

“You ran a red light.”

“Yes… I hit that lady in the black car.”

My right ankle hurt from pressing the brake. Heron-like, I held it up and stood on my left leg while the officer asked for my license and registration. She made out a ticket for me and took an out-of-state cash bond before she returned to the squad car.

As I rode in the cab of the tow truck, I finally shed a few tears, “Why today? I said my prayers this morning. I even went to church …”

“We can’t know God’s plan for us.” The hefty blond driver with a crew cut replied. His words reminded me, Rain falls on the just and the unjust. At a nearby dealership and body shop, I wiped my eyes on the backs of my hands and climbed down from the high cab.

At that business, a young man named Matt helped me for nearly an hour. After I mistakenly called AAA instead of my State Farm Agent, he looked up my representative online. He even called their office for me.

Later, as I sat staring at the wall, he silently set a bottle of Aqua Fina on the table at my elbow. I glanced up, “Oh. Thank you!’ I must look distraught…I still don’t feel anything.

“We are out of loaners” he apologized, “but Enterprise across the street can help you.” He went back online with my State Farm rep and made rental arrangements, too.

Bless him!
Before long, a tall young man wearing a shirt and tie appeared from Enterprise. He drove me across the six lanes of traffic to the Rent-A-Car. There, he looked at my license and ID, but never asked why I needed a rental. Am I capable of driving again?
Guess so. No one seems concerned.…

I stepped into a silver Kia and drove back to my condo to take the nap I wanted four hours earlier.

Once home, I checked in with my husband in Florida. I called him while I waited for the police and later checked in from the body shop. Always supportive, he summed up my trouble, “Fatigue. That’s what happened. You’ve been saying you were tired for ays, but you just kept going. Stop now and rest.”

Two days later, I went to see my pastor who greeted me with a one-arm hug. After my confession he said, “God may have been using you.”

I didn’t know what to say. He went on. Maybe He needed the girl you hit to have that experience. Pray for her. Perhaps you will know more of His plan for you later.”

The robust but calm Man of God said essentially the same thing as the tow truck driver: “God has a plan.”

Urged by my allergist to have a medical check up, a week later I stepped into a walk-in clinic. On my check-out sheet, I read the first explanation for my blank out: “possible syncopal episode.” Ah! God’s plan has a worldly name. According to the Internet, “syncope” is

“…a sudden usually temporary loss of consciousness….”

Having a worldly explanation for why I hit that car has eased my mind. Now I can more easily begin to accept that frightening and costly accident as “spiritual experience.”

Someday I may even glimpse God’s plan.

 “Who are you? I pulled out my prepaid cell that doesn’t work very fast and waited for it to load. I walked toward a man who was talking on a cell phone and waving one arm at a black four-door half way up the curb.


Frances Fritzie


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