One of the sayings we have on the parking team goes back to my driver ed instructor. “There are no accidents—only collisions.” I don’t think it was an accident that all of these situations intersected as they did. I prefer to think God planned a collision with her that night.
It’s not numbness. I’ve just moved on—like I do on the highway after I pray for the family involved in the wreck I just passed. It was such work to “hold this trip loosely with open hands” that I barely felt it eventually leave my hands.
In the din of a bustling convention center, a wiry stranger walked up to me, leaned close to my shoulder, said one sentence, and then walked away. Before the gentleman even finished his deliberate sentence, I felt like he was sent to to deliver it to me.