I’m driving a car load of people. It’s rainy–the streets are wet. From nowhere a car hits us. The front of my car is crumpled. I try to reverse and a long metallic pole extending from the other car pierces what’s left of the front end, ending only a few inches from my chest. I scramble out; falling onto the side of the street. I walk away, searching for someone to help.
I am sitting on a floor of a high level building. There are tall floor-to-ceiling windows through which I see the shriveled remains of the car, emergency services and people. They are helping the others in the car but I am stranded on this floor. I’m trying to call 911 but every time I dial, the phone drops the call. I am terrified. No one can hear me scream. I am in horrible pain. I start banging my fists against the window but no one looks up. I am alone–on this floor, paralyzed from the waist down, invisible.
I wake up, repeating the name of my Lord–Jesus–like a mantra–and I am scared. I do not know what prompted this–all I know is that I was unconsciously repeating His name until I woke up.
I haven’t felt this alone in a long time. I’m graduating in two days and I can’t explain why I’m so sad. This is the moment I’ve been striving for since I was 13. This is the time of my unvealing–the final end of a long tortuous chapter and I don’t know why I can’t stop crying.
I thought that I would start to feel the excitement, the happiness, the thrill of victory. Instead I’m hurting. This doesn’t make any sense. Why is my spirit discontent?
Could it be that I miss my Mommy? Could it be that this would have been such a proud moment for her? Could it be that the stress of graduating, looking for an apartment, moving to Miami, starting residency is finally getting to me? Could it be the incredible sense of loss I feel toward the motley crew of friends who have become my family? Could it be that part of me doesn’t want to start again? Could it be that the thought of going this alone leaves me feeling adrift? I have to make all the decisions. I have to set up all the arrangements, make all the calls, do all the talking. Could it be that I want to relegate responsibility for the next two months? Could it be that I am uncertain of what the future holds and the more it’s brought up to me the more I shrink from it?
Corrie ten Boom, survivor of the Holocaust camps once said:
Never be afraid to trust
An unknown future
To a known God.
I am trying to do that; so why do I feel so alone?