Over 40 years ago, I made a near-fatal mistake.
Sometimes an event takes place in life that is so extraordinary, it becomes a pivotal moment in time—where time seems to stand still for just a moment.
A moment so terrifying that it becomes permanently seared into the mind. A moment which replays thousands of times before its implications and meaning can be fully grasped.
I’m thankful that I’m alive today to tell you the story of my moment.
It was early summer, and I had just been released from the Army. Naturally, I was excited to be finally returning to civilian life. I couldn’t wait to get myself back home.
I called my Mom to let her know I was on my way. I would be driving alone from Fort Campbell, Kentucky to California. As our conversation ended, Mom said she would be praying for me.
Just a quick second here, to give a shout-out to all praying Moms: Thank you, Mom, for being faithful to pray for this impulsive, rock-headed kid—I owe you my life.
My original plan was to make a bee-line straight for home. But there were some friends of mine who I really wanted to see. They lived in the Ozark Mountains of Arkansas—definitely out of my way—but I thought it might be my only chance to see them again.
So I decided to make the side-trip. This was the first of several bad decisions which would follow.
It’s hard to believe we lived without GPS in those days. I squinted at the lines on my crinkled road map, and planned my route. Then I hopped into my beloved 1969 Mustang Fastback…
Sigh…I still miss that car…Sigh…
Anyway…
I managed to follow those winding country roads well enough to find my friends. We had a great visit, and I enjoyed staying that day and night up in the mountains with them. Looking back, I’m certain that I didn’t get enough sleep.
By the next morning, I was suddenly stricken with homesickness, and an overwhelming urge to get back on the highway. Getting my trusty map out again, I retraced my route with my finger. Visiting my friends had resulted in a two-day delay.
Thinking of home was too much to bear, and I wanted to get there now. Right now. I was bound and determined—yes, hell-bent—on making up for lost time.
I drove all day long, with my only stops being gas stations along the way, where I would grab a snack and some coffee. I was a young 22, full of adrenaline and caffeine, and I was going pretty strong. For a while.
But I hadn’t taken time to plan any real rest stops, to actually sleep. Well into the night hours, my senses quickly began to decline. After all, I’d been plugging right along since early that morning.
I can’t tell you when I first began to lose my grip on things. I already tended to be one of those drivers that would push on ahead, even after the warnings signs had long been posted.
But now, because of my poor planning, (and probably because there wasn’t any other passenger in the car, to lend a voice of reason) I pressed on, like some determined zombie—just going through the motions of driving, without much control.
Not willing to simply park for the night by the side of a road, out in the middle of the desert, I made a plan. I reasoned with my road map that I only had about another hour to the next town, which was Albuquerque, New Mexico.
But driving fatigue was quickly taking its toll on my consciousness. And sleep was beginning to win out.
I rolled the windows down part way, and let the cold night air hit my face. The radio blasted on some obnoxious station. For a while, this battled my oncoming stupor.
Time went by. Windows all the way down now. Face blasted with night air. Another radio station. It almost didn’t matter now. Those weary eyes of mine were determined to close, despite my best efforts.
It’s funny how the bravest efforts of willpower can carry us only so far.
My head began to nod, over and over again. And I began to panic.
Only 20 more miles until Albuquerque, the road sign read. “I can make it! I can do this,” I reasoned. I thought I had no choice.
I began to pinch myself hard, on the inside of my upper legs. (You know, the places it really hurts.) And the new pain woke me up for a few minutes more.
Nodding again, I began slapping myself in the face, about every half-minute or so. “Surely I’ll make it,” I reasoned again, for those last few remaining miles.
I slapped harder. The cold night air howled through the cab of the car. The radio must have still been blaring, but I really don’t remember hearing it.
I slapped and pinched even more. Almost there. Ten miles to town. I’d find a nice empty parking lot, to stop and rest for the night. Rest. Oh, that was going to feel soooo good.
“Just a few more miles now. That’s right. Just a few more…”
I pray that you’ve never been here—that you’ve never done this. But if you have, you know the feeling—as you are suddenly shot awake—having no idea whether you’ve been out for a couple of seconds, or several minutes.
Suddenly, my eyes flew open, as my head jerked back with a violent turn.
Suddenly, split-seconds away from me, was a massive concrete bridge support!
I gave a wild twist of the steering wheel. One chance. One turn.
I must have been going about seventy miles an hour. Somehow, despite my reckless turn, the car didn’t over-correct.
My Mustang swerved and did a wild pitch to the left, as it shot through the entrance of the railroad-style steel bridge.
Somehow, no other vehicles were on the bridge. And somehow, I came all the way through that long bridge without blowing a tire.
I didn’t even have a scratch. Somehow…I was alive.
I remember quite well how I slowed to a stop. Actually, it was more of a coast, until the car finally rested.
I was fully awake now. But I felt like I was living in a dream. There is something about being that close to death, having it skirt right past you—almost touching you. It’s something you never forget.
But I didn’t know any of that then. I stopped the car, and quickly got out. I stood by the side of that midnight road to Albuquerque, and shouted out three words, over and over again, until I couldn’t say them anymore.
“Thank you Jesus! Thank you Jesus! Thank you Jesus! Thank you Jesus!”
They were the only three words in the universe that mattered—the only three words that made any sense. I had no other vocabulary. No other reasoning to fall back on. I had just been spared from a certain, painful death.
My hands lifted high into the desert sky. I knew who was responsible for my standing there. I sensed my mortality, full of flaws and foolishness.
But somehow, someone—The One—had just proven that He was in charge of my destiny. Not me.
I’d have to spend the coming decades discovering why He chose to invest Himself in me. This life of mine.
This so much less than perfect, so less than stellar existence of mine.
Was I worth saving? Honestly, I considered myself to be one of the least likely to succeed, at most anything.
I had just foolishly gambled with my life. It would have served me right to have received the punishment for such carelessness.
And yet, He did it. He saved me anyway. He woke me up at the last possible moment in time. (And what could have been my last moment of time).
He caused my knee-jerk reaction of the steering wheel, to point that flying car like a well-shot arrow. I wasn’t in control. I couldn’t have pulled that off in a million years.
Well, what do you know? There actually was another passenger there with me that night. I was unaware of any bridge coming. But He knew. It was His decision, and His alone.
I had had no time to fear, only react. I would either live or die, depending on how I fared upon that long, steel bridge.
I was helpless. My own strength had failed. But He took over, took charge, and took me right on through the valley of the shadow of death.
The real fear would come later. The fear of my Lord and Savior, to please Him and serve Him with all that I had. Still failing Him at times, but always getting back up, to follow Him again.
You see, I’ve been claimed by God. And then reclaimed by Him, from certain death.
He made me want to live, to see what else a God like Him might do.
There’s a lot more to this than just my story. In a way, this is a story about each and every one of us, who have re-purposed to live our days following our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.
As for myself back in the day, traveling on my physical road toward home, I made some mistakes. Each individual mistake probably wouldn’t have meant that much. But life rarely works that way.
Life seems to play out as a combination of every little thing we do—not just one isolated decision.
The Bible declares that God makes everything work together:
“And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose.” (Romans 8:28)
But what if we are continually following wrong paths—making wrong decisions, giving ourselves to wrong ideas and philosophies—or just too wrapped up in the ever-present cares of this life?
Could it be that all things—that is, all the things that we allow into our lives and participate in—couldn’t these things just as likely be working together for our destruction? Think about it.
Do you spend your day loving God—thinking about Him, and wanting His purposes for your life? Or is your day filled with worry, self-promotion, making a living, or getting caught up in the interests of the unbelieving world?
“Keep thy heart with all diligence; for out of it are the issues of life.” (Proverbs 4:23)
What we continuously dwell on is what we are becoming. Ask yourself, “Am I becoming more like my Savior each day, or am I becoming more like the world around me?”
Is there peace in your life? Real peace—the kind that comes from God. The kind that goes beyond understanding—because it’s there for you, in the difficult circumstances.
“Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on thee: because he trusteth in thee.” (Isaiah 26:3)
Again, ask yourself, “Do I have God’s amazing peace when bad things happen in my life?” Of course, we are all troubled by troubling circumstances.
But if you are God’s child, you know the hope and the peace that goes with it—hope and peace beyond any present troubles.
It’s vitally important to know where you are, on this road of life you travel.
“And have no fellowship with the unfruitful works of darkness, but rather reprove them. For it is a shame even to speak of those things which are done of them in secret. But all things that are reproved are made manifest by the light: for whatsoever doth make manifest is light.
Wherefore he saith, Awake thou that sleepest, and arise from the dead, and Christ shall give thee light.” (Ephesians 5:11-14)
This is a powerful wake-up call. (Wow—I certainly could have used this gift of Godly wisdom long ago, during my journey of bad decisions!)
Light—like glorious streams of freshness, and newness for the soul. It awakens us. It keeps us alert.
“Ye are all the children of light, and the children of the day: we are not of the night, nor of darkness” (1 Thessalonians 5:5)
Because the dark of night is always encroaching upon the day, the darkness of the times we now live in is casting shadows over what should be illuminated—things once easily recognizable as light and truth. Without this light of God, we can’t see the truth—and we won’t survive very long.
“See then that ye walk circumspectly, not as fools, but as wise, Redeeming the time, because the days are evil. Wherefore be ye not unwise, but understanding what the will of the Lord is.” (Ephesians 5:15-16)
Circumspectly—now there is a word. In fact, it was used just once in all of the Bible. But it’s meaning is so important, I have to wonder if any other single word could have expressed what the Apostle Paul needed to convey.
The Greek word for circumspectly means to walk with exactness, with diligence—perfectly and accurately, with carefulness and understanding.
There are no careless intentions here. No silly acts of stupidity to laugh about, or to sorely regret later. This is intentional living. Wise living.
This isn’t fearful living either. There is no mention of caution in the definition. This is trust, obedience, and victory—right in the midst of defeating circumstances. This is walking “not as fools, but as wise.”
Paul continues, “redeeming the time, because the days are evil.” The word “redeeming” which he uses here, is another exceptionally important word.
The ancient Greek meaning of “redeeming” reveals an amazing concept for us to understand: that of ransom, the buying up, or buying out—as of the time of a slave.
Redeeming the time, as if to purchase the days of one’s life.
The slave, now redeemed, is able to live out his days with purpose—because of his new master. It isn’t freedom just for the sake of being free—but it is a managed fulfillment of the servant’s life, to produce exactly what he was meant for.
Now he is able to take advantage of each opportunity that life will bring. This servant, once a slave, becomes a coworker—even a friend—to his wise and loving Master.
Because of Jesus Christ redeeming us, we are now free to walk wisely in the midst of evil days.
“Wherefore be ye not unwise, but understanding what the will of the Lord is.” (Ephesians 5:17)
Life always has its share of road hazards to watch for. As Christians living in the last days—with last days situations taking place in this world—there are even more pitfalls and potholes along the way.
Usually, one wrong turn in our journey doesn’t mean instant doom for us. But it can lead to further wrong thinking, decisions and actions. One bad decision certainly can be corrected. But coupled with other wrong decisions, it can lead to believing in lies, and becoming detached from reality.
It can also lead to inappropriate slumber. Sleep at the proper times is a wonderful, restful experience. But sleeping when eyes should be open—and the mind should be fully awake—spells disaster.
You might even suddenly wake up to find yourself speeding toward a steel bridge in the middle of the night.
Those years ago, I may have had my eyes open, as I drove along that road. But I wasn’t watching. I wasn’t actually paying attention to what was happening around me, and to me.
I flew by all of the rest stops I should have taken advantage of. With my lost opportunities behind me, I was compelled to charge ahead, despite my weakened state. God literally needed to come to my rescue, to save me from myself.
It’s the same old trap that the enemy of our souls loves to catch us in.
As Christians, watching our walk is absolutely vital. In Paul’s day, the days were certainly dangerous for this new sect of Christ’s followers called “Christians. And today, we can see that our days are just as “evil,” if not more so.
But watching isn’t just observing current world events. Something much closer to the heart needs to be taking place.
We are to keep a close watch on our daily lives before God—like good servants, always hoping to please our Lord and Master. And He in turn keeps His ever-watchful eyes upon His blood-bought servants.
“Little children, let no man deceive you: he that doeth righteousness is righteous, even as he (Jesus) is righteous.” (1 John 3:7, parenthesis mine)
The point of this verse is that sin—for the born-again believer in Jesus Christ—is not a normal experience anymore, but the exception.
Of course, we are only human—we all make mistakes at times. We all take a wrong turn now and then. And there is certainly forgiveness provided for us, as we are careful to repent for our errors of judgement.
Yes, we fall at times. But a lifestyle of continually not paying attention—and continuing to sin—is a train wreck. The consistent practice of sin has dire consequences for any one of us.
It’s deadly—I know. By the grace of God, I’m a living testimony of death’s ever-present reality.
Watching is also being aware of who you are, and why you are where you are.
Think about this: Why are you involved in whatever, or whomever you are involved with?
“Because strait is the gate, and narrow is the way, which leadeth unto life, and few there be that find it.” (Matthew 7:14)
Does the word “narrow” cause you to cringe?
Are you still on the main road—the right road—the straight and narrow road of life?
The unbelieving world continues on their way, supposing themselves to be free of all “narrow-minded” restraints. Don’t follow them. Jesus warns us not to take the wide way.
Proverbs warns us in no uncertain terms to watch our lives:
“Let thine eyes look right on, and let thine eyelids look straight before thee. Ponder the path of thy feet, and let all thy ways be established. Turn not to the right hand nor to the left: remove thy foot from evil.” (Proverbs 4:25-27)
Just like driving, watching your Christian walk is to think about your path, and heed the warning signs along the way.
Are there flashing lights warning of impending danger ahead? Have you come to an intersection—a crossroads in your life? Stop, think and pray before you proceed.
Watching involves actions. As we watchfully pray before the Father, He—through the power of His Holy Spirit—guides us along the dangerous highways of life. He is our GPS who sees all—and everything that looms in the distance.
Staying connected to the all-seeing, all-knowing God is vital to our survival along the way. Knowing God’s word, the Bible, keeps us connected. And prayer keeps us connected and updated on current road conditions, warnings, and important information.
Prayer should never be considered a one-way conversation. It’s not just about speaking things—it’s also about listening to God’s voice of wisdom. It can literally save and preserve our lives along the countless miles of life’s highway.
Watching is also watchful waiting—patiently expecting the timely return of our Lord, Jesus Christ. The times we now live in are pointing to His soon return for His church—His bride.
Some Christians have fallen asleep while waiting for this blessed event to take place. But we can’t afford to be steeped in slumber—not now. We literally wait upon the edge of history—the cusp of all things to be fulfilled—Christ’s imminent return to the earth.
When our Lord was about to face the cross of crucifixion, Jesus asked His disciples to watch and pray—but they become drowsy, and fell fast asleep.
“And he cometh, and findeth them sleeping, and saith unto Peter, Simon, sleepest thou? couldest not thou watch one hour?” (Mark 14:37)
Can you watch—at this critical hour of time you live in?
Can you redeem this time in your life, and pray—for this hour allotted to you—to be faithful to the One who has called you out of this fallen world of darkness?
You can, and you must.
You can, because you have a Helper—the Mighty Holy Spirit—who strengthens you to be faithful.
And you must—because your watchfulness is crucial to your survival—during this final onslaught of the enemy.
Sleeping soldiers never see the enemy approaching.
Satan hopes to catch most of the church napping—distracted, in sin, and fallen asleep—fallen away from the saving graces of God.
Christ’s soon return for them—those who are not awake and watching—will be as a thief in the night.
Stay awake friends. Your life depends on it.
