During a college Christmas break, I was on a road trip from Texas to Colorado with my fiancé and a friend. During a heavy rainstorm, our car hit a sheet of water on the highway and spun out of control. A truck pulling a trailer hit the passenger side of the car in the back, where I was sleeping with my head against the window. My vague memory of the crash is of exclamations from the front seat and a general sense of spinning, along with crashing noises. I remember turning to God.

I woke up very calm in an ambulance. A paramedic who looked very serious was asking me my name and how many fingers she was holding up. I was strapped tightly to a stretcher, so I wasn’t sure whether I could move. I wanted to ask if my fiancé and friend were OK, but I’d seen enough movies and TV to know all the potential worst-case scenarios that might come as answers to those questions. So, instead I just kept silent and prayed, choosing not to look to the material situation for information, but to God. I focused on acknowledging God’s goodness, presence, and power. I stayed very calm. 

When we got to the hospital and they put the gurney with me on it in a room, I kept praying. I decided not to try and see if I was able to move. As I recall, I didn’t even try to wiggle a finger. I was just going to pray and wait till I needed to move, and I confidently expected that then I simply would, because I was under God’s law, the law of freedom. I was not going to ask if my fiancé or friend had survived; I was just going to trust in divine Love, God. As I was trusting Love’s care for me, I would also trust Love’s care for them.