I am not a confident driver.
My future self will be the stereotypical "old lady" driver that annoys young people (They don't annoy me. I just sympathize.) I like the passenger seat.
I would have really liked the passenger seat yesterday, but Joshua is out of town and Rosalind doesn't have her license.
You see, folks down here run red lights all the time. Yellow does not mean slow down.
But I did. I slowed down and even stopped before the light turned red.
And got run into.
I was stunned. William was already screaming, I've been walking around on a sleep high (or would that be low? whatever the one without sleep is) and before I knew it the offending driver vanished down the street.
While I waited for the police to arrive and tried to shake off the shocked feeling, I checked the munchkins. When I asked Rosalind if she was okay, she looked at me for a minute and then pointed to a microscopic bruise on her leg from three days ago. She's fine.
Today as we headed to the library and came to a stoplight, Rosalind asked, "Car run into us now?"
Getting hit made me realize how blessed we were. No one was hurt. The damage to the car is (hopefully) minimal. We're alive. We weren't hit today.
Living is an awfully dangerous business (that will inevitably end in death), but we are held in the hand of an all wise God. And that is definitely something to be grateful for!
photo by longnshort
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