The Moral of That Story

Phew! We're home from our crazy trip to Nashville. Things didn't go quite as we had planned, as we made a detour half way through Kentucky to go to the hospital. The moral of that story is simply "Do not drink and drive". It's that simple. Just don't do it folks, you could ruin someone's vacation. Or worse.

It was about 9:00 pm and we pulled off the interstate for some coffee and to top off our gas tank. We had been driving pretty much all day, but we had 2 1/2 hours to go before we would get to our hotel. The guy at McDonald's literally took 20+ minutes to get the coffee. First it wasn't made, then we had to wait, after which he forgot us. I had to go in and ask if it was ready... Anyway, our quick stop for coffee turned into an extended stay. When we were finally going to get back on I-65, we began driving over the bridge under our green light. When we were pulling through the intersection, we caught sight of a car coming from the opposite direction, turning directly into our path. Before I knew it, I heard a smash and the car began to tip over. I remember everything in slow motion, as it happened:

Smash. Tip. Brace myself. Elbow drags along in the glass as it smashes on the asphalt. I watch Adam as his head hits the ceiling, his arms fly "up" while the car continues to roll onto it's roof. Oh my goodness... Our car just rolled over. Hyperventilate. Adam unbuckles, which cues me to do the same. I crawl out the smashed window. There is Adam holding his head. He tells me his head hurts and I urge him to sit down. All I can think is that he is going to pass out. Sirens. There is already an ambulance on the scene. We were two minutes from a hospital and the ambulance crew saw the whole thing. We sit at the bottom of a light pole, while the police ask questions and the medical personnel wrap our wounds in gauze. My arm has a pretty big gash in it and Adam's head is dripping blood. The cop mentions something about the other driver being 10-40 - Police talk for DWI. We are alive, walking, talking and praising Jesus that we are alive. And our car is totaled. And we are more than 600 miles from home. Neither I nor Adam know anyone who lives in Kentucky.

Six hours, 33 stitches, and four staples later, Adam and I hitch a ride (via taxi) to the nearest car rental, which happens to be at the Louisville Airport. It is around 4:30 am and we sleep/rest our eyes while waiting for the car rental to open. Mind you, we have had no sleep, look and smell terrible, have blood on our clothing and I have no shoes. I have hospital slipper socks on, which are 3x's too big, and am using a hospital scrub shirt as a blanket. (I am forever thankful for kind hospital nurses.) Upon opening, Adam haggles with the car rental man for two hours, because we are "unable" to rent a car. He is absolutely exhausted and the man is not being very understanding at all. Apparently, we couldn't use our bank card to rent a car, for whatever reason, even though we had enough money in there to be able to. And our emergency credit card we had left home, and even though we had all our numbers for it, we couldn't use it because it was against their "policy". Imagine yourself in Adam's shoes for a minute. You and your wife were just hit by a drunk driver. You're 12 hours from home, know no one, have no car. Haven't slept a wink. Your head hurts, your wife has no shoes and has 33 stitches in her arm. Your credit card won't work and the one that would work, is against "policy" to use. The smart looking, well dressed, clean, rental-car man, has this smug look on his face and is COMPLETELY unwilling to help you. "I'm sorry, but there is nothing I can do." Adam tells me about it. We have no idea what to do. We are stuck. No way to get our stuff, no way to get to our hotel or any hotel at that. All alone. There is to cab in the taxi booth, so trying my best to gather myself together, and hoping for a smidgen of pity or goodwill from the car-rental man if I talked to him. After all, wouldn't you think he would've had some sort of desire to help the couple in distress, especially if the wife asked? This is where I saw the smug look. Maybe I imagined it, but I don't think he had one ounce of pity and even a desire to help. I asked him to call a cab. That is all. And then I started to cry. I told him I didn't even have any shoes. I was exhausted and Adam said, "Come on Beth. He doesn't care." I went out to the pick up lane outside the airport to wait for out cab to come. Adam was still inside. But I slid down to the ground next to a concrete pillar. 6:30 in the morning. The air was cool and you could hear birds, cars and distant airport noise. And the tears began to roll down my cheeks. I prayed. I felt so alone. God, please help us! Send someone who cares! Shortly thereafter, I heard Adam call me. He had asked the car-rental man if he could give us a car for one day. Just one day, instead of a week. And then it worked. So God didn't send someone, but He did give us a car. For one day. Thank you Jesus. A bight spot at the end of the tunnel. And starting there our vacation got better. Praise the Lord Jesus Christ for his goodness and protection. Watching over us when our lives were in danger and when there was no one who seemed to care. I am so glad my life is in his hands.

So the moral of my story is:

#1 Don't drink and drive
#2 Don't leave your major credit card home when you go on vacation
#3 Rent a car or fly
and most importantly...
#4 Trust in the Lord Jesus Christ to be your protector and deliverer of your soul

I'll post car pictures when my camera battery has charged.