Off-roading Garling Style Part I: His ways are perfect

Seven days ago, we were just north of Oklahoma City on our final stretch of driving home from our annual Trail Ride vacation in North Dakota.  Vern and I had just finished a lively conversation about what we wanted to do to prepare for our trip next year, when all of a sudden my head hit the front dash of the Excursion and I saw the highway black top up way too close to my nose.  We had been hit from behind by something with enough force that it lifted the back wheels of the Excursion into the air.  We had been driving about 65 mph towing our 35 foot bumper pull camper, so when the back wheels of the Excursion reconnected with the road, the whole rig swerved crazily down the highway.  Kids were screaming, I was screaming, the camper would jack knife into my peripheral vision with great detail, and all the while, Vern fighting that wheel and repeating over and over to us "WE ARE GOING TO BE OK!!". 

He doesn't remember saying that over and over.

We both remember when the truck headed for the ditch on I-35 though.  We were headed straight for a T-post in the ground, and I was wondering if that T-post would stop us. And then feeling really silly when we went right through that post as if it were merely a flimsy twig stuck in the ground.

As the front wheels of the truck hit the dirt, the whole rig flipped once end over end.  Even under such conditions, my scientific brain was in overdrive, as I remember wondering what sort of physics insult would cause a SUV plus camper to flip end over end.  And then we were barrel rolling.  Three times.  I remember each one because the truck would land on the driver's side, then we were air born, then the truck would land on my side, then we were air born, and then repeat...and I kept wishing there wouldn't be another cycle of it. I held my breath the whole time during those barrel rolls.

And through it all the kids were screaming, red Oklahoma dirt was flying everywhere and all I could do was grip the arm rest and wait for it to end.

When we came to a stop, the truck had landed on the driver's side.  I looked down, still belted into my seat and all I could see were Vern's legs not moving.  

"Sweet Jesus, don't take my man from me!"I sobbed out loud.

And then Vern's legs started moving and he wiggled out of the truck.  I have lovingly renamed him THE COCKROACH.

Relief overcame me in waves at that point, and my survival mode kicked in as we both scanned the truck for the kids, calling their names.  Matt was already out, Grace was unbuckling, and Isaac was hopping out the back hatch of the totaled truck. 

Desperate to hold my family, I unbuckled my seat belt and shimmied through the hole that used to be my front passenger window and jumped to the ground.  Which in retrospect is funny because I don't shimmy or jump anywhere--not even on a trampoline for fun.

The kids were all crying but standing together between the exhausted truck and the camper now reduced to toothpicks. Vern sat on a red crate near the truck his head gushing blood and his hands all ripped up.  I was torn trying to decide who to go to first--the kids or Vern.  The kids won, but only because I knew my man could take care of himself and the short people needed a parent.

When I got to them, I gathered them into my arms and whispered "Is everyone OK?  Anyone hurt?"  They were all fine, except Matt's right eye had swollen almost shut and Grace had a nasty seat belt burn on her belly.

I barely had time to go into mom mode to calm my little chickens down when they all started crying deep heaves of sobs for Denny, our five year old yellow lab who had been traveling with us.  He was nowhere in sight. Then Vern chimed in also asking where his dog was.  We were all sure he was dead and I dreaded finding his body in the wreckage.  But then someone said that he had taken off up the road, and that the person who caught him was walking him back to us.  They pointed in that direction and sure enough, here comes Denny--not a scratch on him.

And that was the first time that day that I knew I was not going to be able to comprehend the multiple miracles of that wreck.  We were all alive.  And over and over again I whispered to My Lord, "Your ways are perfect.  Your ways are perfect."

He is our praise and He is our God--who has done for us these GREAT and AWESOME works our eyes have seen.  Deuteronomy 10:21

Part II to follow at a later date as this is plenty to absorb for one post.  Let me add though, that if you do not know Jesus as your savior, I suggest you seek Him out.  You just never know when your time is up on this earth.

Website for views of the wreck that made the news:
http://kfor.com/2014/07/11/traffic-alert-emergency-crews-on-scene-of-rv-accident-on-i-35/