Read, Write, Love, Repeat

There are moments in life that slam into you unexpectedly, shake you from half-sleep by reality crashing into your world, wreckage left it in its wake. Through no actions or fault of your own, because of no choice you made, chaos blasts in. Smoke, debris. Shattering glass and splintered wood. Nobody’s agenda for themselves. And I can relate.  

In the quiet of a January Saturday afternoon, naptime is a blessing. A long week of work, not feeling 100%, and a sweep of chilly weather converged to lure me to my bedroom and the cocoon of my covers.  

A deafening crash shook me from my sleep, shook our house to its foundations. Ran from my bed outside, barefoot, into the frigid afternoon. My husband was out the door moments before me, leaving it hanging ajar for my own exit. Smoke, twisted metal, broken glass, and rock and wood debris greeted me as I exited. Curious onlookers emerged from neighboring houses, also rattled from their quiet Saturdays. 

Wreckage and chaos met us. Apparently a young man under the influence of an abundance of tequila (based on the half-empty bottle in his car) was speeding on our 30 mph street, didn’t make the curve, and met with the 8 foot stone pillar at the corner of our fence (a couple of feet from James’ office window) at an estimated 60 mph, sending huge stones flying half a block away, one through the outer pane of my office window and one completely through our dining room window. His car then pivoted and took out most of our fence.  

By the time we got outside, several witnesses had stopped and were making sure he was okay, talking to him, coaxing him out of the car since he didn’t appear to have back or neck injuries. No other cars were involved, and he was able to get out of the car on his own steam, pleading that we not call the police or an ambulance. Well, we didn’t listen. Under-car fire extinguished, EMT’s there to help, our police officer neighbor (then off-duty) directed traffic around the crash. These things often bring out the best people and the best IN people. 

However, this was not what anyone involved had planned for that afternoon.  

After the hole in the side of my house was covered with cardboard and plastic sheeting, after the nice firefighters helped me sweep up the glass from all over my dining room floor, after the sirens retreated and the once-BMW was towed away, I sat and still felt shaken to my core. As I thought about this man, about this accident, several realizations about the driver behind this wrecking ball to my world became clear: 

1. This was not about me. Probably one of the worst days of the driver’s life, but not a personal attack against me. This was about this broken guy in a broken world, crashing hard, but protected by airbags and able to (mostly) walk away. 

2. People surrounded him, total strangers, to get him to where he needed to be to get the help he needed in the moment. Hopefully he will get further help for his future life. Mr. Rogers always told children to look for the helpers in a scary time or chaotic situation. Helpers were everywhere. 

3. The brokenness left in the wake of his choices, while not directed at any of us, not intentional on his part in any way, deeply affected the lives of those he didn’t even know. 

4. He will likely have legal consequences as well as financial, this very bad day hopefully becoming a turning point in his life.  

As time passed, dust settled, and I had space to ponder a bit. As He often does in the hard things, God had lessons for me. He shifted those realizations around in my heart to apply to so many other parts of life.  Here’s what I’ve learned:

1. Often, the deepest places of pain I’ve had from people around me- people known or unknown to me personally- actually had WAY more to do with what was going on in their own lives than what was happening between them and me. We are all broken people in a broken world, and we occasionally crash into each other, inflicting damage, not always intentionally, as we go. I know I’ve inflicted my share of unintended damage to those around me as I’ve blundered through my own pain. 

2. There are people who have your back in the aftermath of the crash. Strangers and loved ones. Members of James’ small group and their spouses came and cleaned up the massive amounts of debris the day after the wreck. Neighbors we didn’t know asked if we needed anything. God places people in our lives to help us recover and clean up the emotional damage inflicted by unwitting fellow-sinners in this broken world. In difficult instances throughout my life, I reflect on the kindnesses of strangers that have brought me to tears, the hugs of those dear to me at exactly the right moment, a text from someone dear with the perfect words. We aren’t alone in our worst moments. 

3. The damage to our house, while unintentional, took weeks to fix. It was a process, done a little at a time: debris cleared out by one group, broken windows replaced by another, fence replaced by another, stone pillar rebuilt by yet another. Damage to a heart doesn’t heal instantaneously, and help typically has to come from many different sources, in many different forms. And it takes as long as it takes.

4. Damage brings feelings of vulnerability. After the crash there were literal holes in the street side of our house. Our fence completely gone, I could see every car drive by the window of my home office, making me feel oh-so-exposed to the world, raw, like my skin had been peeled back. More noise and cold poured into our home because of the breach in the dining room window, invading the calm and peace of our home, edging in a feeling of being ill-protected. Vulnerability is so hard. Really. It feels like you’re just asking for more pain sometimes. But it’s also essential for all relationships. It’s okay if you don’t open yourself up wide to those who have been your wrecking ball in the past, probably the wise thing, actually, but by the same token, it doesn’t mean you should be closed to those who truly want to bless you and help you heal. 

But consider this. A wrecking ball is not just a random destructive force, but a tool. It’s there to remove what is (quite indelicately, if I may say) so that something new can be built.

I am grateful that most of this wrecking ball’s damage only affected stuff. Just stuff, which can be replaced and repaired. And it was. But I think of that young man who made the mistake of getting behind the wheel at the wrong time. I pray that the wrecking ball we shared was an agent of rebuilding for him, clearing his way to a better path. “What is” was clearly not working well for him. What can be built in that cleared-out place, well that’s unlimited. 

Watch for next week’s post, Wrecking Ball, Part 2!