Tragedy:
An event causing great suffering, destruction, and distress, such as a serious accident, crime, or natural catastrophe.
August 28, 2009. It's 9 o'clock on a Friday night. A silver car is driving home on Highway 75. Moments before reaching its turn, the car in front of it swerves, leaving just a second to see what lay ahead before it was too late. What that car saw was a person, lying in the road. There was nothing else the silver car could do. Leslie Newton, age 43, died that night.
Tragedy.
I'm sure every one of us can think back to a time when we have experienced some sort of tragedy, some event that forever changed us. For me, it happened six years ago. Six years ago, to this day.
For the scenario above, there were two tragedies. The first and most obvious, was the loss of Leslie Newton. The tragedy of his loss probably still affects his family. Death is hard despite its inevitable request to make its presence known. Nonetheless, it is unfair to lose someone we care about, and I cannot begin to imagine the pain his family felt.
The second tragedy is the car. On August 28, 2009, the driver of the silver car driving down Highway 75 at 9 o'clock on a Friday night was me. Because of this, I was faced with a situation I will never be able to forget. It completely changed my life. I went to school the weeks that followed only to have people say, "I thought you were a Christian, but it turns out you're just a murder!"
Tragedy.
It was an incredibly overwhelming time for me, and I didn't allow myself to process it until this year, 2015. The unbearable pain I felt during my junior year of high school literally changed me. I became a hard, cold person. I blamed myself for that accident. I blamed myself for the death of another human being, for taking away someone else's right to live. I let the lies of the enemy take over my life, and I started to believe those people who called me a murderer. And when I did start to 'live,' I felt disturbingly guilty for it. I completely gave up on God, on love, on the value of life. I quit believing there was a good God out there, because why would He allow this? How could He? It just didn't add up to me.
It has been a long, treacherous journey for me. I have stumbled, I have fallen, I have wandered down the wrong path. I haven't always trusted, I haven't always believed, I haven't always obeyed. I have doubted, I have hated, I have cursed Him. But most importantly, I have learned.
What I have learned through all of it, through all of the pain and all of the hurt is that God was there. He protected, He loved, He forgave. He did all of that even before my car came in contact with that pedestrian, that forty-three year old pedestrian. That Leslie Newton pedestrian. He forgave.
He forgave me for all of the times I stumbled, for all the times I fell, for all the times I wandered down my path instead of His. He forgave me for not trusting that this was in His hands, for not believing that He was still good, for not believing in Him, for not obeying His commands. He forgave me for doubting His work through this journey, for hating not only the circumstance but also Him, for cursing His Name. He forgave.
What I failed to realize at the young age of barely-seventeen was that He knew I would encounter a man that night. He knew I would take this road instead of that one. He knew that I would fight Him every step of this long journey. He knew. yet, He still loved me through all of it. I have learned that it is okay to live, it is okay to love. It is okay to enjoy life. I have learned that bad things will happen again, and though I may fight them, though I may fight His journey, He will still guide me, still love me, still teach me.
What I have also learned is that tragedy is going to happen. God will allow more of it in my life, I am sure of it. He will. It does not take away from the truth that He is good. It does not take away from the truth that He loves me.
I often wonder why God allowed me to experience this pain, why He allowed me to endure this hardship. Sometimes I ask Him. And sometimes I am reminded that, just like Job, I was not there when the world was made, nor was I there when Jesus suffered and died. Who am I to doubt that He is in control? Who am I to doubt that His plans are good? I so often think that God should not have permitted me to go through this, but then I remember that, without this trial, I would't be who I am today. I would be a selfish, unforgiving person. I would rely less on God. If I had never suffered, I wouldn't understand grace or love. I wouldn't understand the cross or what Jesus did on it. I wouldn't even care that He died for me. I wouldn't care that HE suffered.
So I am thankful, I am grateful, that I was chosen to bear this trial for His name. I am thankful that He did not walk out on me like I walked out on Him. I am thankful that, just like the prodigal's son, God welcomed me back into His family when I came helplessly limping back,
And that is a new beginning.
Always in Him,
Hannah
