I've heard people say that in a life threatening situation, their lives flashed before them. As I fought the steering wheel to regain control of my spinning car this weekend, that didn't happen to me. Instead I felt fear and regret.
My daughter was asleep in the backseat when it happened. I was terrified that we'd get hit by another car or slide off the other side of the road. All I could think of is that I might lose her, that she might get hurt or worse. I prayed that God would protect her even if he didn't protect me. I didn't care about my own safety, only hers.
I regretted that I might not get another chance to let my loved ones know how much I really love them. I regretted angry words spoken, the times I let stubbornness and pride get in the way of apologizing, and not cherishing every day I had with them. I felt regret that I might leave Steve alone after we've worked so hard to build our marriage.
Thankfully it didn't come to that. We ended coming through the experience without a single injury, although it scared me out of my wits. My daughter slept through the entire thing, not waking until after we were stopped and sitting on the side of the road.
Later as we sat in a restaurant waiting on Steve to arrive, I worried about his safety. When he walked in the door, all I wanted to do was run to him, throw myself in his arms and never let go. But our daughter beat me to it so I sat back and waited until she was done.
And since then, I've clung to Steve every chance I get. I hardly want to let him out of my sight.
That one terrifying moment has brought us closer than any other thing we've faced to date. It's sad in a way, though, that it took something like this to make me realize how much I really do love him and want to cherish every moment that we have together. Now I'm determined that not a single day is going to go by without me letting my loved ones know they are loved and cared about.