Each day is a gift; life is precious.
And, unfortunately, sometimes it takes a scary, near-death experience to remind me of these two simple facts. The title of this post is taken from the subject line of an email I received from a friend this morning about 12 hours after we (along with our husbands) experienced one of those events that really reminds us of how important, fragile, and precious life really is.
Last night, like most Wednesday nights, David and I were passengers in a car with our good friends on the way home from our weekly prayer group meeting. It really was like any other night until we heard the "bang, bang, bang, bang, bang" noise coming from the sidewalk. Then we felt some thump, thump, thumps on the car. I think we all wanted to believe it was the first fireworks of the season, but it was clear to all of us that it wasn't. It was gunshots. As we turned to look out the back of the car, we could see a man on the ground (obviously shot) and several others running from the scene.
As we continued on our drive, we did a quick assessment to make sure everyone was physically all right. And we did a little bit of an emotional check-in. We pulled up in front of our house and David and I said our thank yous and walked inside. As we were walking up our front steps, I noticed a spot on the side of our friends' car. I mentioned said spot to David and hypothesized that it could be a bullet hole, but quickly I steered my mind away from that thought and towards a big, old bird poop on the car door.
This morning, we got an email from our friends and a call from their insurance company. It was a bullet hole on the side of their car. Had the shot been six inches higher, this post would have an extremely different tone. Tonight I'm just grateful for the protection that surrounded us last night. Yes, we were at the wrong place at the wrong time. And, yes, having a bullet hole in your car door sucks. But the four (five if you count Baby Dawson, who was there, too) of us are safe. Completely free of harm. And we're all grateful for another day. All thanks does belong to God.
I'm not sure if I've had the time to really feel the impact/gravity of this situation. Maybe it's just too scary and too raw for me to go any deeper emotionally. Who knows? Right now I'm just grateful. I'm grateful that my husband was next to me when I woke up this morning; that my belly is still swollen (read: fat); that I got to enjoy the beautiful day. There may be more thoughts about the events of last night to share in the days and weeks to come, but for now I'm just grateful to be alive. And grateful that my husband and friends are safe as well.