Accident

I can't sleep. Tossing and turning, clamping my eyes shut only for them to flutter open sleeplessly again. I bury my tearstained face into the worn, tear blotted pillow beneath me, trying desperately to quiet the shrill sobs scratching at my throat. The pitch black darkness of my room suffocates me, but I don’t have the strength to pull myself up and flip on the light switch. The silence surrounds me; it scares me to death only because it screams the truth: I am alone. As I lay here in a feebly tangled heap of blankets and body parts, unable to sleep and crying like a despairing insomniac, I can't help but wonder. I can't help but wonder what it would feel like to die.

Do we get swept away under the relentlessly crushing black oblivion, our bodies melting away from our souls which begin flitting around mindlessly like faeries trapped in little glowing orbs? Or do our entire beings; mind, body, soul, get erased from the system called life, deleted like broken computer programs? Or, even, do we get copied and the duplicate of ourselves is like a ghostly reflection and we all transfer to a kind of waiting room where we anticipate our turn for being judged by God? No one knows for sure what happens after our hearts stop beating.

I wish he could come back and tell me so I know. I wish he could just come back. Fresh tears spilled from my eyes as I pathetically bit my lip against the cascading waterfall. Why couldn’t that red truck have been more careful?

The whole scene played out perfectly in my head again, as it had so many times before.

I shivered, rapidly rubbing my gloved hands up and down my arms to try and ward off the cold. Bouncing on the balls of my feet, I breathed out a visibly translucent sigh of air. “Where is he? If he doesn’t get here soon he’ll be late for his meeting.” I whispered to the night air, a lazy gust of wind brushing past me, sending unwelcome chills up my spine. I hurriedly slid back the fuzzy sleeve of my coat to check my watch. I sighed again. “What’s taking him so long? He’s already ten minutes late. Maybe I should call him…” I voiced my thoughts to the icy air.

“I’ll call him." I concluded, reaching my hand into my purse to rummage around for my phone. Breathing on my frozen extremity to warm up my fingers, I poked out his number on the lit keypad. Holding it to my ear, I waited while listening to the rings. Once, twice, three times... "Hey babe, sorry I'm late. I'll be there in a few minutes." I smiled; it sounded like he had been expecting my call. "Alright honey. Drive safe; I hear there's patches of ice everywhere on the road. See you soon, love you!" I replied quickly, wanting him to focus on driving. "Love you too, see you soon." The line cut out.

I flipped the phone shut with a snap and slid it back into my purse. I quickly rubbed my hands together and breathed on them to defrost my poor, stiffly frozen fingers. I stood there like this for only a few more minutes as the wind bit at my ears and nose.

A smile broke out between my rosy cheeks as I saw his car shoot around the bend. I felt the wind from a red truck that had just sped past lightly push against me and I watched it zoom in the opposite direction that Lyric was going in.

What I saw next will always be burned into the backs of my eyelids; a memory I will never be able to forget even if I wanted so desperately to.

Then a sound met my ears. It was not a pleasant sound. I gasped as I watched the wheels of the red truck spin, sliding and unable to stop as it hit a deadly patch of black ice. The sound of squealing tires filled my ears as I screamed "No!" As much as I felt the urge to run, to do something, I couldn't; I was utterly rooted to the spot, only able to look on and watch what happened next.

Lyrics car swerved as wide as it could, tires screeching in protest to the huge arc, trying desperately to dodge the spinning and out-of-control truck, but unfortunately it wasn't enough.

The two cars collided with each other in a flash of silver and red; a horrible crunching boom rang through the trees and off the mountains. The silver car was launched sideways by the red truck, briefly hanging in the air before smashing to the pavement on its top, rolling and spinning in a ceaselessly dangerous tumble. Awful scraping noises shrieked from the silver car as it finally skidded to a halt. The red truck had only spun a few 360’s before smashing front first into a tree 20 feet from the silver car.

Then the road was ringing with a haunting silence.

I stood there, speechless and utterly terrified. I couldn't feel my feet or make them move; I stood rooted to the spot, trembling. I managed to get a hold of myself enough to shove my hand into my purse and shakily rip out my phone. It fell from my quivering hand and onto the frozen ground; I swore loudly. Crouching quickly to pick it up, I jabbed my numb finger at the numbers 9-1-1, hurriedly putting it to my ear.

I was finally able to move my feet, surging forwards and losing my balance. I fell face first, catching myself on my free hand, cursing loudly again as I scrambled up to my quaking feet. I ran to the silver car, the shrill ringing of the phone intruding into my ear. My heart pounded against my ribs, fluttering like a winged thing trapped in a cage. My mind raced with dark, terrifying possibilities.

What if...he was dead?

"Hello, 9-1-1, what is the emergency?" A calm, business toned lady asked me, making me jump at the sudden voice. "Um, there's been a cr-crash. P-please send help immediately. T-two people inside damaged v-vehicles." I replied shakily, tears filling my eyes. "What is you location?" The business tone asked me again. I spun towards the stop sign and read our whereabouts to her, stammering and trembling as I spoke. "Help is on the way." The lady replied. I snapped the phone shut and shoved it back into my purse. I threw myself to the ground by the driver’s side window of the silver car, crouching on shards of glass and twisted metal. They cut sharply into my skin, making it cry crimson tears, but I didn't care.

"L-lyric?" I whispered hoarsely, hesitantly looking through the window. I cleared my throat roughly. "Lyric? Are you a-alright?" I asked again, this time louder. I reached my trembling hand up, poising it just over the window. I drew in a shaky breath and knocked. I heard an odd, gurgling and moaning noise come from inside the car. "Lyric? Hello?" I yelled louder through the window. The moaning sound greeted my ears again, but this time it was stronger.

I sprang up onto my feet with more grace than I thought I had, given the current circumstances, and tried yanking open the driver’s side door. To my luck, it was unlocked. I tore it open, falling to my knees to examine the damage and see how badly Lyric was hurt. I gasped, sharply sucking in a gust of air and put my hands to my face. “Oh my God.”

He was suspended upside down by his seatbelt, head almost touching the roof of the car. Blood was gushing from a wound on his head where it hit the windshield and a crimson waterfall was spilling from his mouth. His arm dangled, bloody and shirt ripped, over his head. It was more than likely broken from the impact of the red truck on the driver’s side. His whole dress shirt was dyed a sick scarlet color; you would’ve never known it had been white. Tears filled my eyes and spilled over as they scanned his broken and bloodied form. “Lyric, baby…” I whispered, reaching my arms out to him. His eyes slowly looked over at me and he made that dark, moaning sound again. I finally realized that the gurgling noise was because his mouth was full of blood when he tried speaking.

“What do I do? What do I do?” I jumped up, asking myself quickly, eyes wide and full of disbelief as I ran my hands through my disheveled locks. I heard sirens in the distance and prayed that they got here quickly. “Help is on the way, honey, just hold on.” I whimpered, collapsing to my knees again by his head as tears streamed relentlessly down my cheeks. I sobbed pathetically by Lyric’s helplessly trapped body. If I tried moving him it would only hurt him more, so I had to wait for the paramedics to get here. I hated feeling so…so useless. My love was injured and in pain and all I could do was watch and wait.

Useless.

The sirens shrieked their shrill cries as the ambulances approached, breaking through the frozen air surrounding the scene of the crash. All I could do when they stopped quickly near both vehicles was scoot back on shards of glass and watch with a tear-blurred gaze as they pulled Lyric’s body from the car with such precision and skill that no one other than a practiced paramedic could have achieved. One of the blue clad women walked over to me and kneeled by my pathetic form, asking me if I could tell them about what happened. I just broke down in sobs, feeling my throat going sore as they ripped from my lungs.

It had all happened so fast. Too fast.

His heart was still beating when they got him to the hospital and that was a very good sign. He had lost a lot of blood though, and that wasn’t the best of news. “He’s got a strong heart.” A doctor had told me while we were speed-walking down the white, overly clean hallways of the hospital that always smelled strongly of bleach. “If we can get him patched up quick enough, I’m sure he’ll be fine.” He had smiled at me, a reassuring smile that I’d imagined he gave to every other distraught relative of an injured loved one in the hospital. Although his words had been somewhat reassuring at the time, since I was no doctor I couldn’t verify whether he was sugar-coating it or telling me the cold hard truth, so I believed him.

He was wrong.

Lyric died in the hospital shortly after he got there. They underestimated how much blood he had lost and weren’t quick enough with patching him up. I didn’t even get to say goodbye or see him one last time while he was alive.

He was gone from me. Violently ripped away in a flash. Now all I’m left with is the pile of broken pieces that were once my heart cutting sharply into my hands and a lap full of cold tears.

What could be worse?

Multiply

Ever wonder how Jesus multiplied the loaves of bread and fish to feed over 4,000 people? I know I have. But, have you also ever wondered if God does that still today? Albeit maybe not giving someone the ability to feed thousands from small loaves of bread, God can still do things like that. For instance, this past Sunday I dug around in my purse for all the soles (money in coins) I had to slip into the tithe bucket that was being passed around at church. (I only had around 3 or 4 soles left.) Finding the last of it, I threw it into the bucket without thinking whether I'd want it or need it in days to come. This action left me without any money for the rest of the month, as I only get my allowance at the beginning of every month. This didn't bother me for whatever reason; though - knowing me - it should have.

Then, earlier today I was looking frantically in my messenger bag for a safety pin that I needed and checked every pocket in desperate search. Sliding my hand into a small zippered pouch, I felt what seemed like a folded slip of paper. Pulling it out curiously, I unfolded it and realized that it was a ten sole bill. I had no idea - and can't remember - that I had left that in there. I immediately thought about the money I threw in for the tithe and later thinking that, oh, I don't have any money left. Smiling, I thanked God and slipped it into my back pocket. I feel like God multiplied my tithe and blessed me because I gave Him all I thought I had left without worrying whether I would need it. Some may say it was just coincidence that I happened to find that bill in my bag, but I don't concur. There are never coincidences, just God-instances. (I don't know who originally said that, but it's not from my own mind. Credit goes to whomever thought it up first.)

Have a blessed day! (:
Vicki

Indescribable, Uncontainable; You Are Amazing God

Hey all,

I had some really good God moments over the past few days. And the past year, I should say. My eyes have been opened to a lot of stuff that is about the world and Godly and sometimes a mixture of both. He’s shown me things that I can’t explain, but some of the points that He’s revealed (and that I can, fortunately, explain) I feel like I should share with others. Let’s begin, shall we?

So first, I am propelled to think that there is somewhat of a cycle to this whole “wisdom” thing. These are my thoughts about it (with God’s help):
You gain wisdom through experiences and in speaking to others about the wisdom you gained, you give them knowledge of it. You help them through your own experiences (using the wisdom) so that they may not make the same mistake you did. You don’t give them wisdom; you give them knowledge through your wisdom. Or present them with the knowledge, free for them to take if they so choose.

Which is generally a good idea.

My next thoughts are about rules and regulations, laws and such that we are supposed to follow. Remember that hand book in school that you read that listed all those – what you thought – dumb rules that you felt like they forced you to follow? Yeah, those ones. The smallest rules and the biggest laws are similar in how they attempt to guide you. I feel like laws (like the Ten Commandments or any other rule you should – but are not forced – to follow) are like walls surrounding you. Imagine yourself totally surrounded by bleached white walls that are tall, but short enough for you to climb over if you wanted to. The walls are built for you protection and to keep outside things from getting in, like bad influences and things that could harm you in any way. However, the walls are like a strong suggestion for you not to get out, but you could jump them if you wanted.

I feel like some people think that rules are like a cage, locking you inside and forcing you to do things that you think you don’t want to do. I absolutely despise the phrase “rules are meant to be broken” because they are not made up for people to break them. That is far from the reason they are laid down in the first place. Rules, laws, regulations; any of those things are set for your safety and protection because (generally) wise people set them, using their wisdom to help you not make the same mistakes that they did. The rules are not preventing you from doing something fun or anything like that. On the other side of that wall (not chain link caging) is a field of endless barbed wire, not bright green, unbelievably luscious grass and rainbows.

If you think that, you're in for a big surprise.

In short summary, (if the above was so incredibly scatter-brained that you couldn’t follow along, I’m sorry) rules are made up for your safety, not to prevent you from doing anything fun. (You’re not missing out on anything being inside the walls.) Laws are like walls, not caging. We have the free will, the choice to stay inside the walls or climb over them. God asks us to stay inside the walls because He knows what’s best for us, but we - as fleshy, sinful humans – always want to know what we’re not allowed to do. Our flesh and curiosity gets us in trouble and it breaks His heart to see us scale the walls, but He’s always got His arms wide open if we choose to jump back over, bruised and scratched.

I am still attempting to grasp just how God loves us as much as He does and I know I’ll never fully understand it because if I did, I’d probably explode. It’s too much for us humans to handle, but I want to know more of how He can love such imperfect sinners so unconditionally. It’s so awesome to think that I have a Heavenly Father who will always, always take me back into His loving arms no matter how badly I’ve screwed up.

I love it.

Thoughts? Comments? And please, don’t hesitate to tell me if I’m out of line in anything I said. Don’t hesitate to point me back onto the right path; I stumble off it daily.

Thanks for letting me share my thoughts with you (:
Have a blessed day!
~Vicki

Kiss A Cloud

A few droplets of moisture landed on the exposed skin of her arm, surprising her, the gray sky stealing her gaze upwards. The rain that came down was unsusual rain; it fell soft as snow but touched the ground like water. The mist caressed her face with chilly fingertips and she grinned.

"It's like kissing a cloud."

-------
The original idea of this is not mine, but the writing is. The words "kissing a cloud" are from one of my friends, Ryan Stauffer (ryanstauffer.wordpress.com/)
Thanks Ryan for the great idea (:

I wrote this because this is exactly how it rains down here in Peru. Peru only gets 1/4 of an inch of precipitation per year. So, the way that it "rains" is as a thin mist. It's weird.

~Vicki

Pictures of the Orphanage

Here are some pictures that I really liked of the orphanage. And a random picture of chairs in the cafeteria that I thought was cool.
The fourth picture is an updated picture of the orphanage, taken just today. The Gateway team is just flying here! It's got paint on it and everything. I really love their company; it's an awesome group of people ranging from teens to middle-aged and older Moms. It's been a great experience working with them so far and it's only the end of the second day! I can't wait to see what's going to happen these next few days.

The two pictures in the middle I will not take credit for (other than editing them); they were taken by David Mosemann (http://www.davidmosemann.net/). The one of the chairs and one of the orphanage, however, I can claim.

~Vicki

Methodical Dressing

I had an epiphany while standing in front of the mirror, gawking awkwardly with a toothbrush sticking out of my mouth at an odd angle and foam dribbling down my chin. I’m not sure why it struck me in this moment, but it did.

I realized that I dress methodically after a shower or in the morning when I’m getting ready. There is a certain order that I put on my clothing every single time and it hasn’t changed. The order goes something like this:
Under garments (without details for the sake of it being public), pants/shorts/skirts, first layer shirt, second layer shirt(if there is one).

I always, always have to put on my pants first because if I put on my shirts first, then I might have to pull them up to button my pants and then have to straighten the shirts back out. Since I put on my pants first, then I can just smooth out the shirts as I put them on and not have to use extra time to mess with them.

So, you see? Methodical. It might also be a little bit of my OCD seeping in too.

Who knows.

~Vicki

Sorry

               “I’m sorry,” she murmured softly, staring downcast at the blue tiled floor, avoiding his eyes entirely. He shook his head slightly as a small sad smile crept onto his features. “You keep saying that, but you know just as well as I do that no matter how many times it’s uttered, it doesn’t really help. They’re just words, even if I know you mean them.” And he knew she meant them too, but it made no difference. She could be saying, “I think I’ll have a sandwich today,” and it would have the same effect on him as the words she was muttering now. They both knew that those words had lost their sincere meaning over the years because of how much people abused them. She sighed and closed her eyes, that foreign, small frown on her face deepening. 

               “I know,” she practically whispered, opening her brown eyes to stare at the plain white wall, again avoiding his eyes.

               He gazed at her face, letting his eyes trail up her neck and over her softly angled jaw, up around her small but full lips and letting his eyes rest on her unfocused ones after he spied the hardly noticeable patch of dark purple half moons hanging underneath them. 

              “I'm sorry,” she murmured, grimacing as she realized she had said it again. He chuckled softly, shaking his head again. “Sorry, it’s impulse. Ack! Sorry! Gah!” Her hands rapidly came up to her face, smacking hard against it.

               He laughed and walked over to her, gently tugging her hands back from her face. “It’s alright, love. I forgive you,” he whispered tenderly into her ear as he began wrapping her arms around his torso. She caught on quickly and coiled them around his body as she went to rest her head against his chest. Before it lay against him, however, he put his forefinger under her chin to bring up her face so that he could look into those beautiful eyes once more.