Six Inches

Driving home last night, on a very familiar residential street, about a mile from my bed, I heard a loud noise and thought something struck my windshield.  I flinched, but continued driving.  A few seconds later, I glanced over my left shoulder and realized there was a dime-sized hole in the rear driver's side window and the entire glass was shattered. Not knowing, what else to do, I continued driving.  As I went over a speed bump, the glass began to crumble into the back seat, and the hole got larger.  By the time I got home, this is what it looked like.

That hole originated just six inches behind my head.  I don't know if it was a sling shot, a bb gun, or what.  I haven't been able to find anything in my car to tell me what was shot at me.

Last night, I was in shock.  As my roommates said, I was "eerily" calm.  My heart was beating with palpable force, but to the outside observer, I was serene.  I called the police, filed a report, called my insurance agent, filed a claim, and calmly readied for bed.  I spoke with four different friends, assured them I was okay, then pulled the covers up, turned the lights out, and allowed myself a brief bout of tears of release.

This morning, I felt like I'd ridden a bad roller coaster.  My whole body ached as though I'd been violently shaken, and my head pounded with remnants of unshed tears.  I walked out to look at the car again, and felt sick at my stomach.  Six inches.

I made an appointment with the glass repair guys, sat down to drink my coffee and read my Bible.  Psalm 139.  "The dark is as light to you."  God knows as though it happened in broad daylight who stood on that curb and what they fired at me.  "You hem me in behind and before."  God chose the impact point.  He measured the inches.  All six of them.  "Every day ordained for me was written in your book before one of them came to be."  I woke up sore, shaky, but alive and well today because "This is the day the Lord has made."  I will rejoice and be glad in it.