Thankfulness
Okay, so I am fully aware that it's not November. But, we really need to get out of the mindset that we can only thank God on Thanksgiving. Because really, that's hurting us more than Him.
I have a lot to be thankful for. I will briefly mention the obvious: food, shelter, clothing, an opportunity to be educated... But I was given a amazing gift last Sunday, a gift that I will always be thankful for.
Two of my siblings almost died in a car accident last week. My brother was driving on a freshly graveled road and lost control of the vehicle. The car flew through the air for 200 feet, flipped in the air and landed partly on the top of the car and partly on the driver's side, forcing my brother down. We think that's what saved his life. The car flipped one more time before coming to a stop at the edge of a field.
Kimber was not knocked unconscious, but Roger was. Kimber tried to revived him, but she said, "His eyes were blank and his is mouth was opened and he looked dead." Her screams were heard by a nearby airport. A Canadian named Bob came to see what was happening, saw the wreck and told the owner of the airport to call 911.
One of the first things Kimber said to me when I got to the emergency room was: "Vuvie, I thought he was dead. I thought he was dead." I don't know if it was the use of my nickname or the tone of her voice that brought me to tears for like, the 15th time since I got the call from the ambulance. I cannot imagine thinking that I was looking at my dead brother anymore than I can imagine any of my siblings dying.
The next day, when my entire family except Roger was standing in that muddy field, looking at the car, the only thing we could say was "How are they alive?"
The car looked horrible. Though we have our theories about what happened, we were all left with one sobering fact: the accident should have been fatal, neither of them should have survived.
All I could do was looked toward heaven and repeat thank yous that seemed inadequate. Because no matter where I am with my relationship with God, I know that He's there, and that He's holy. He could have taken my siblings from me. I only can hope that if He had, I could still turn around and say that God is good. Because he is.
My siblings are alive, and I can't express the joy I have. I don't have to live without them, I don't have to continue on without there love and support. We are still the Six Needham kids. I am not ever willing to decrease that number. There is the six of us, the best siblings I could ever ask for.
I don't know why God spared them, but that alone is reason to praise Him in my books. Not to mention Jesus dying, His many blessings and everything else that He has done. Because He has done so much, beyond anything. And when I think of my behavior, of my rebellion, of my absolute refusal to follow him, I feel sick. He has done everything and I can't even give Him my life.
And what does that make me?
My oldest brother Tyler is standing on the left, Kimber (who was in the accident) in the middle and my Mom to the right.
I have a lot to be thankful for. I will briefly mention the obvious: food, shelter, clothing, an opportunity to be educated... But I was given a amazing gift last Sunday, a gift that I will always be thankful for.
Two of my siblings almost died in a car accident last week. My brother was driving on a freshly graveled road and lost control of the vehicle. The car flew through the air for 200 feet, flipped in the air and landed partly on the top of the car and partly on the driver's side, forcing my brother down. We think that's what saved his life. The car flipped one more time before coming to a stop at the edge of a field.
Kimber was not knocked unconscious, but Roger was. Kimber tried to revived him, but she said, "His eyes were blank and his is mouth was opened and he looked dead." Her screams were heard by a nearby airport. A Canadian named Bob came to see what was happening, saw the wreck and told the owner of the airport to call 911.
One of the first things Kimber said to me when I got to the emergency room was: "Vuvie, I thought he was dead. I thought he was dead." I don't know if it was the use of my nickname or the tone of her voice that brought me to tears for like, the 15th time since I got the call from the ambulance. I cannot imagine thinking that I was looking at my dead brother anymore than I can imagine any of my siblings dying.
The next day, when my entire family except Roger was standing in that muddy field, looking at the car, the only thing we could say was "How are they alive?"
The car looked horrible. Though we have our theories about what happened, we were all left with one sobering fact: the accident should have been fatal, neither of them should have survived.
All I could do was looked toward heaven and repeat thank yous that seemed inadequate. Because no matter where I am with my relationship with God, I know that He's there, and that He's holy. He could have taken my siblings from me. I only can hope that if He had, I could still turn around and say that God is good. Because he is.
My siblings are alive, and I can't express the joy I have. I don't have to live without them, I don't have to continue on without there love and support. We are still the Six Needham kids. I am not ever willing to decrease that number. There is the six of us, the best siblings I could ever ask for.
I don't know why God spared them, but that alone is reason to praise Him in my books. Not to mention Jesus dying, His many blessings and everything else that He has done. Because He has done so much, beyond anything. And when I think of my behavior, of my rebellion, of my absolute refusal to follow him, I feel sick. He has done everything and I can't even give Him my life.
And what does that make me?
My oldest brother Tyler is standing on the left, Kimber (who was in the accident) in the middle and my Mom to the right.