So, I Almost Died…Sorta

I felt on edge all week, but didn’t figure this was anything to worry about. I’d also not been feeling well physically, having been racked with migraines and pain throughout my body.

So, come last Friday when I woke up feeling miserable, I was determined to not let the pain or stress win. I fought against the day. Have you ever felt like that? Where you feel as if you are simply spending your physical energy to resist? I was resisting pain, stress, a burdened heart, loneliness, anger, fatigue. I was fighting against an invisible and yet very real enemy.

And in my fight, I decided that I would win which meant doing something that usually makes me feel better: exercising. So I headed to the gym with my kids in tow, for an hour long kick box class. I felt good. I felt strong. I finished well.

But, as we headed to the car, I realized that something wasn’t right. I was suddenly dizzy and breathless. I reached down and touched my chest and felt mildly shocked to find that my heart was racing, not beating, but racing. I had been out of class for some time. My heart shouldn’t have been racing, but that was just the beginning.

After putting my kids in their car seats, I paused for a moment and wondered if I should be driving. I shook off my fear and drove off. Immediately, however, I knew I had made the wrong decision.

I knew this feeling. I had felt it before. Fear started to creep in. This wasn’t just a rapid heartbeat. I was about to pass out.

I pulled the car into the next parking lot. I tried to think about what to do, who to call, where I could get help fast enough before losing consciousness.

I knew Jonathan would not answer his phone, as he was 40 minutes away visiting a sister church of ours. I scanned the parking lot. The store closest to me was closed. The other two were too far for me to drive to without certainty that I would make it there in time.

I knew I needed to call my mother-in-law. She lives 5 minutes from me and I was 5 minutes from my house. I estimated someone would make it to me in 8 minutes or so, if they hurried (all of these thoughts ran through my mind in a matter of seconds).

I called her and immediately told her I felt like I was about to pass out, where I was, that the kids were with me and to send my father-in-law to help. They called 911.

As I hung up the phone, I discovered that my limbs were going numb. I could no longer feel my hands or my legs. The numbness was slowly creeping up my neck and onto the right side of my face.

Most alarming of all, my hands began to seize. I watched in terror as my fingers coiled up, like that of a stroke patient, and became immobile.

As I was panting to breathe and fighting with everything in me to remain conscious, I heard my poor little Riley whimpering in the backseat. I turned to her and she said, “Mommy, I’m scared.”

I whispered back the only thing I knew to say, “Don’t be scared. Jesus is here. Jesus is here.” That’s all I could say and it kept ringing in my ears…

Jesus is here. Jesus is here.

And I knew He was. Somehow, despite being so afraid that something horrific was happening to my body and worst of all, my kids were witnessing it happen, Jesus was there.

I knew that no matter what was about to happen, He was there. In the thick of it. In the midst of it. He was…

He is.

The paramedics arrived and it turns out though that I wasn’t dying…well, sorta. My body was severely dehydrated and decided to do what a body does when it needs water. It attempts to save your organs by allowing your blood pressure to plummet and your heart to beat rapidly in an attempt to keep blood flowing to your heart. That is why my limbs went numb and my fingers were useless. My body figured they were expendable.

I know it sounds melodramatic. Oh man, Nicole didn’t almost die. She just needed some Gatorade. You’re right.

But, I didn’t know that. My mind was flooded with thoughts of laying in a hospital bed, or leaving my kids, or dying before they were grown.

Afterward, I tried to flush out the “lesson” in all of this. What did God want me to learn, besides that I need to drink more water? What was He wanting to show me?

But I realized, there was no grand lesson. There was no big reveal. It might  sound a bit cheesy or lame, but it’s true. I felt somehow strangely and completely connected to Jesus as I sat in my car, thinking the worst. He is enough. There is nothing more to say…

Jesus was there. Jesus is here.

The End.

Okay, so do you have any actual near-death experiences, since mine was just a tease? When have you been extremely afraid and yet somehow so aware of God’s presence and love?


30 thoughts on “So, I Almost Died…Sorta”

  1. Nicole, how terrifying! You have me in tears here, imagining this as it’s happening. I’m glad it turned out to be nothing serious, but of course you thought you were dying at the time!

    I’ve only experienced something similar in an apocalyptic dream. I was with my family, and suddenly I saw certain destruction hurtling toward us. We were all about to die, and there was only time to say one word: Jesus. It was a prayer for help and a cry of joyous homecoming, all in one beautiful word. Death was inevitable, and when it came, all was bathed in brilliant white light and I felt no fear, only peace and joy and love.

    So, in a way, I’ve died already… and it wasn’t such a bad thing. :-)

    1. Erin,
      Ah, those apocalyptic dreams! Ha! I jest only because I’ve had them myself.

      Your dream gave me chills. The only Name. I think of this at times. I think of the reference to Jesus in Revelation as Him wearing a name that only He knows. It gives me goose bumps just to think of it.

      His name saves. No other name.

  2. I think that was a great lesson for your child. It showed her what to do in a state of panic. Trust Jesus vs. panicking. She’ll remember that for years to come.

    1. Sundi Jo,
      I hope you are right. I hope she remembers it as Jesus’ provision, not as some scary childhood memory. It did allow us to talk more in depth with both her and my 4 year old about heaven. If that’s the lesson, I’ll take it.

  3. That really touched my soul.

    I have always had experiences like that, I want to share a few.

    When I was 7 years old, I became very sick couldnt keep anything down not even water. For weeks I was either on the couch or in my parents down. I had to be carried everywhere. There was another time my family and I were in Galveston, I was talking with my brother I must have made him mad or something. He pushed me and I tripped onto the main road where traffic was rapidly coming. This one took more than a couple years of my life. I had a nerve condition in my foot that was said to never go away. Last year depression took ahold of my life and I thought of suicide.

    Now that I think about Jesus was in all of it… dear Jesus how I love him….

    For the seven year old girl who had a praying mother who was praying after helping me attempt to eat. She prayed I mean she prayed. Suddenly I got up and began to walk. Lord! JESUS WAS THERE!

    To the girl who was pushed onto incoming traffic, my father grabbed me just in time as an 18 wheeler came my way! JESUS WAS THERE!

    To the girl who was diagnosed with a perement nerve condition. Who came into church with crutches and left with only a limp. Havent been on crutches since! JESUS WAS THERE!!!

    To the girl who suffered from a strong wind of depression and thought of suicide. Dear lord I thank you because like job I laid down on my face and cried out pain and confusion, all to Jesus. None but Jesus! Have your way Jesus! And guess what JESUS WAS THERE!

    So I can relate but I must say this… its always great to have a praying mother and serve a savior who is there no matter what. I could have been gone. Jesus says no Not done…im npt finished with you yet. I never will be. Get deeper in me. Get so deep you dont know where up, down, left, right, is. All you see is me.

    As I am blessed to have a woman of God as a mother, your children are blessed as well. I am glad you are okay. Realizing the lord is with us…its a powerful thing to grasp and somtimes you cant wrap your mind around it. It doesnt matter if wrap our mind around it though….Somethings are made to be a mystery.

    Thank you Lord for always being with us! Amen! Thank you Jesus! -Writerscomposition

    1. Jaque,
      What an amazing testimony you shared here. it had my eyes swelling with tears and my heart praising our powerful and good God. Thank you so much for sharing. I was so encouraged by this, and I imagine others were, as well.

  4. First, I’m glad you weren’t near death.

    Next, I appreciate the telling of the tale. It was gripping and terrifying. I had an experience recently involving a blowout on the interstate. I was never really scared and never thought myself near death but on reflection I was closer than I knew. If you’re interested the longer version is on my blog

    Next, I hope (and I’ll pray) that all of the other conditions that you’ve been resisting lately are resolved or being resolved. Turmoil, stress, and pain are never needful long term and I’ll pray for swift resolution and strength until the resolution.

    Last, and most importantly, thanks for the reminder that Jesus is here. In all circumstances.

  5. Wow. That’s really scary! But that’s kind of how a lot of things go I think – big scary moments turn out to be created by small, easily fixable things, whether it’s being dehydrated, or the car acting crazy because someone sawed off your catalytic converter. :) Thankful that you’re okay!

  6. Is it wrong that I went to get some popcorn while I read this? Such a good story! (I obviously say this, because you are OK. Lord knows we care!).

    The body is such a wonderful piece of machinery. It speaks, and does what it needs to do. Sometimes it gets confused and throws you up for a loop. I get vertigo attacks from time to time and that’s no fun. It’s like being pissed drunk, except I don’t drink. You puke your brains out and then it goes away in a few hours. It has to do with the brain that is receiving signals from your eyes, ears and joints and 1 of those signals is not consistent with the others. The brain, trying to make sense of this, “resets” itself and that’s when things start spinning. I literally see a standing object (like a pen on a desk) start spinning around the room. Craziness!

    I did have one experience that almost ended my life. It has to do with a 13 yr old kid (me) and a retired K9 police dog. Maybe one day I’ll share the story.

    Stay hydrated!

  7. You can die from dehydration so if you hadn’t called the ambulance then who knows. My sister was hours from dying of dehydration. She finally went to the doctor and it’s a good thing! You were smart to get the care you needed. I’m glad you are okay. :)

  8. I wouldn’t say it was a ‘near death’ experience, but I remember being terrified and completely unable to control anything during the birth of my son. I had labored for over 24 hours and had been pushing for just over 3 hours when my doctor told me I could continue, but it wouldn’t end well. My son was in distress and I was quickly loosing the battle. I consented to a C-Section, which was one of the most terrifying things of my life. Until this point, I’d never been in a hospital for more than a couple hours, had never had to spend the night in one, and had never had any form of major surgery. No broken bones, nothing. Now I had all these things hooked up to me, oxygen was being given through a machine to my baby, and I couldn’t feel anything because of the medication.
    My son was born, safe and sound, about an hour after I consented to the surgery. He was perfect in every way, but I wasn’t out of the woods yet. They let me kiss my boy and take him in for a moment, and then continued working on me. My surgery continued; due to the length of how long I had labored and pushed, my uterus would not contract back to its original state. I almost needed a blood transfusion. I slept through the rest of my surgery after my son was taken out of the operating room, but I’m not sure if I slept thanks to medications or if I simply passed out from it all.
    So no, it wasn’t near death – but it was terrifying. At one point I felt I didn’t know what was going to happen to me or my son. But we all lived to tell the tale. And I knew, as soon as my son was put into my arms for the first time, that Jesus had been, and always will be, there.

  9. those are great stories. I’m glad all of them came out well. Ironically, reading your story makes me realize that symptoms I was having up until several months ago, were most likely the same thing! I’ve been drinking lots of water, almost on a regimen now, since a couple of weeks before Easter. Between that and getting into shape, I no longer have to stop and hold myself up when walking.

    Jesus does care for us and watch out for us. Just having someone nearby that you can call was a blessing (and of course they were wise enough to call 911, where you probably never would have thought to do so). Just the right people in just the right places… if we’re paying attention and respond!

    (and who knows how many times He takes over when we aren’t paying attention)

    Glad you are back up to par!!

  10. So thankful you’re all right, Nicole. What a terrifying experience, and yet you handled it so well – I have to say it; you kept fighting and staying strong and said exactly what you needed to say to Riley. (Was Tolan much aware of what was going on?) The mere fact that you went to a kick-boxing class at all, feeling like you did, impressed me. I’m much more of a wuss. Our bodies are indeed remarkable, aren’t they? Designed to work as they do…fascinating even while terrifying because we don’t KNOW exactly what they’re doing. I would have surely thought I was having a stroke, and been worried about paralysis, etc. Hope that you’ll work on keeping yourself more hydrated in the future. ;-)

  11. Nicole, Jesus was there with you and your kids. I was filled with so much emotion as I read this. I have never met you in person, but this story tugged at my heart so much. I am so thankful for you, and your ministry.

    As soon as I read this, I prayed Psalm 34:15-18 over you as a prayer of thanksgiving.

    “15 The eyes of the Lord are toward the righteous
    and his ears toward their cry.
    16 The face of the Lord is against those who do evil,
    to cut off the memory of them from the earth.
    17 When the righteous cry for help, the Lord hears
    and delivers them out of all their troubles.
    18 The Lord is near to the brokenhearted
    and saves the crushed in spirit.”


  12. Oh my dear Nicole…great parenting, great faith…so grateful you are all right, so grateful for you thinking in the midst of brain haze, so grateful the kids were secure in car seats and not in the middle of 115 degree parking lot watching you pass out…so many terrible things could have been, and yet Jesus was there!!! Caring about every detail!!! Praise the Lord!!!!

    So, are you regularly filling water bottles from the RO or having lots of Dasani available?

  13. Wow! I don’t think the fact that you survived made this story any less intense. I’m impressed with your quick thinking, and I love that when you came to the end of yourself, Jesus was there. That’s totally how it works. Glad you came out of it alright, and I hope you have a water bottle with you all the time from now on ;-)

  14. So glad you are okay! I have a crazy immune system that randomly decides it wants to be allergic to things. A couple years ago I tried a coconut ice cream at my brother’s school program. Unfortunately it had been sweetened with agave nectar. We didn’t know that I was allergic to agave. By the time I got to the hospital, my blood pressure was 60/30, pulse was almost 200 and oxygen levels were at 70%. The doctors said that if we were any later to the hospital they wouldn’t have been able to bring me back around.
    The comforting thing is that no matter what happens, Jesus is always with us taking care of us and somehow he has a plan for everything, even if we can’t see it.

  15. Yep, I can remember it clearly! In high school I went through a long period of depression. There were times that I had thoughts of suicide. Durinig those times, I would lay on the floor in my sister’s bedroom, so that I wouldn’t feel alone, I would lay at the door of my parents bedroom door because I just wanted to have the assurance that they were still there. I had thought the Lord was coming soon and I didn’t want to miss it.
    When I couldn’t sleep, I would pace the house and sing to the Lord and then there were moments where I would cry or just be numb. One night I went to the kitchen because I thought I wanted to end it all. I opened up the drawer where some of the sharpest knives were thinking I could stab myself or slit my wrists but as much as I was in depression the thought of killing myself also scared me. The enemy kept on whispering in my ear to do it, that God would save me. I had the scars for a long while on my body from where I poked at my stomach with a knife, reminders of God’s mercy.
    One night as I laid in my bed thinking that it was no longer worth it to live, as clear as can be, God whispered in my heart to not give up. He reminded me of my cousin who had made it through and that she made it. Little did I know what my cousin was going through. She is someone that I look up to. God allowed me to go through that with His love and grace. As desperate as I was, those were the times that His precense was most clear.
    My cousin is loving God with all her heart and serving Him. I love the Lord, He is so good.
    There are some things I cannot put into words as I would like but this is one of the many stories of God’s love and I’m so grateful that I am still alive to experience it!

  16. So grateful that you are ok and that your heart, where the rubber meets the road, knows who it belongs to. Praying Riley feels comforted by Jesus and not scared by what happened. Not enough space on the internet to recount the many times Ed and I have said, “Jesus was there”. What a faithful Savior!

  17. So. This is sort of a two-for-one deal, but I’m going to abbreviate the first a bit, even though it’s pretty obvious in retrospect that there were angels heavily involved.

    First, in mid-July 2009, when my kids were not quite 4 and 2.5 (twins), I was in a bad two-car wreck. It was one of those things that you see coming (kind of like Erin’s dream), but you’re powerless to stop it. The accident had a combined vehicular speed of nearly 90 mph, so you just know my poor little sedan got totaled. (It made the local papers the next day. Small towns.) I came around the bend in the road, saw a maroon sedan sideways across the road about a thousand feet out, and continuing to careen towards me. My thoughts ran from, “Dear God, I can’t stop this” to “God, I know where I”m going but I’m not wanting to leave here just yet” to “I am going to close my eyes and scream like the girl I am.” I waited about five seconds after the impact to open my eyes because I wasn’t sure I wanted to see what had happened (I sure hadn’t wanted to *see* it happen). I was intact, and so was my windshield, but neither of the driver’s side windows were. I got hauled out through my car sideways, out the passenger side (couldn’t get me out the driver’s side because of the other car), and got hauled through a cornfield by six burly guys, one of whom apologized for the light rain that was getting me wet. I broke my right wrist in two places and my right ankle in four. The ankle required surgery to fix. I spent a week in the hospital and then was discharged to my folks’ home, because they had everything I needed on one level. My house didn’t have that. So the kids and I moved in with Mom and Dad, and I couldn’t even cut my own broccoli for weeks. My husband came out for about 40 hours once a week. The kids and I lived with my folks for almost two and a half months before I could come home. My friend who’s a former EMT looked at the picture of the wreck and said these comforting words, “I’ve pulled people dead out of wrecks that weren’t that bad.” Thanks, Stace.

    The accident messed up my back something fierce, so in addition to PT and follow-ups with the orthopedic surgeon and hauling my own carcass around in a platform walker, I threw a chiropractor into the mix. At one point, I was in such pain that I was screaming. This is an important detail, because a lot of the discomfort I had, particularly when doing necessary things like, say, breathing, was due to severely strained intercostal muscles. Those are muscles that run between your ribs, to help move your ribcage every time your lungs expand. Every. Time. And when they bark, you KNOW it. It’s not a pain you easily forget.

    At the end of February 2010, I came down with what I was sure was a stomach flu. Probably brought home from the oldest’s preschool class. I couldn’t keep anything down for over 12 hours. I sent the kids to my folks’. I stayed in bed all day Friday, all day Saturday, and most of Sunday. By Monday, I figured my stomach-flu Olympics had caused my form to really suffer, and I’d pulled something in my back as a result. And strained an intercostal muscle or two. I knew what that felt like, and this felt exactly the same. I also got started on a z-pack for what the PA swore was sinus stuff left over from my flu bout. On Tuesday, I confessed my idiocy to a local chiro (not the guy I knew and trusted from my previous adventures). I apparently *had* messed up my upper back and shoulder with my weekend activities, and that felt better. Not so much the rest of my back. He wanted to see me again on Thursday. I didn’t bother getting dressed on Thursday until I had to; it hurt too much. I made my husband drive me because I couldn’t drive myself.

    I have plenty of experience with those 1-10 pain scales that hospitals use. I just hate them. I think they’re woefully inadequate as far as expressing pain levels, because what was a 10 two years ago is now only a 5 because you have new perspectives in pain. And I’m apparently notorious for underestimating my pain level, because my husband says I have such a high threshold (I say I’m a wimp). So when he asked where it was that day, and I grimaced and told him a 9, he got REALLY concerned.

    The chiro could hardly touch my back. The pain was THAT severe by then. He suggested I get my butt up to my regular doc for muscle relaxants, anti-inflammatories, and heavy-duty pain meds, and he’d see me Monday after the meds had a chance to work. Well, by the time we collected the kids from the sitter and got up to my doc’s, the regular practice office was closed. The walkin clinic was still open, and, astonishingly, it was my doc on duty (providentially, I am quite sure).

    Had I pulled intercostal muscles and messed up my back?

    Nooooo. I had a rollicking case of pneumonia. Yes, it CAN cause that kind of back pain. My O2 level was at a scary 87% (if it gets below 92%, docs get twitchy). The back pain, my doc said, was pleurisy, not strained muscles. (For you young upstarts who don’t know, pleurisy is a painful inflammation of the protective pleura–chock full of nerves–that surrounds your nerveless lungs. The pneumonia was so deep in my lungs that it was pushing on the pleura.). I was SO sick that my doc called the squad right then.

    My chest x-rays at the hospital revealed that my pneumonia had caused nearly white-out conditions in my lungs (I became something of a PCU celebrity over that–PCU is the ICU step-down unit; yeah, I was REALLY sick). I got hooked up to IV antibiotics before I even got into a room or they knew what kind of pneumonia I actually had. I was on four different IV and oral antibiotics for four days before scaling back to just pills.

    As if all that wasn’t enough fun, the morning after I was admitted, they sent me for a precautionary echocardiogram. There’s a fun test when you can’t breathe when you’re laying flat. I wasn’t in quite as much pain (I love you, steroids), but I still felt like I had a couple elephants sitting on my chest, even on 2 liters of O2. When the cardiologist saw those test results, he apparently had a cow and called my hospitalist to order a contrast-dye CT. (There’s another fun test.) The contrast dye makes your blood vessels light up like a Christmas tree…and get dark if there’s clots.

    I made medical history again by my horrendous failure to light up like a Christmas tree in lots of places that I should have. The docs were flabbergasted. It was unheard of for a woman of my general age (mid-30s) and reasonably good health, who didn’t smoke or drink or anything, to have massive bilateral pneumococcal pneumonia as it was. It was unheard of for someone like me to have a massive pulmonary embolism. It was even more mind-boggling that I had BOTH of these conditions. I went on Coumadin that night.

    And this was not your normal, run-of-the-mill blood clot in the lung. This was so huge the nurses on the PCU were freaked about me getting out of bed just to use the bedside commode. It was in all three lobes of my right lung, and congesting the pulmonary artery leading into the right lung. (The echocardiogram showed my right heart–which pumps blood to your lungs–was under severe strain.)

    It’s one thing to feel as you did, Nicole, or to see imminent doom coming right at you, but this came out of nowhere. It was VERY scary to realize that I would not have made it through the weekend if I hadn’t sought medical help when I did. My friend who’s a cardiac nurse very nearly dropped everything to come out and take care of me (I had to assure her I was on the mend and in good hands.) I was life-threateningly ill, and we didn’t even realize it.

    Turns out my “stomach flu” was really a case of very confused white blood cells, because the infectious disease specialist was sure it was actually the pneumonia heating up.l

    God gave us the miracle my husband prayed for–by the time I was discharged the following Wednesday, the clot had resolved. I remained on Coumadin for a whole year after that, and I’m on an aspirin regimen for the rest of my life, just to make sure that I don’t do this again. (The cause of the clot was ultimately determined to be a medical mash-up of several factors, with my birth control pills being the biggest culprit.) Exhaustive blood panels were run to make sure this wasn’t a clotting defect (it wasn’t).

    It was hard for my kids to be so young and to see me weather all that. They didn’t understand the accident, and watching me get carted off in an ambulance scared them. They had some pretty severe separation anxiety last summer when I had outpatient surgery to take out the screws that had been put in my ankle back in 2009.

    But I can tell you this…those experiences have turned my girls into very compassionate kids, who will pray for someone’s little boo-boos or big boo-boos at the drop of a hat. And I love that.

  18. I was moved as well- thank you for sharing. Jesus is here! Praises to the Lord on high! I am grateful and beyond thankful for knowing and growing in the Lord God Almighty without him I am nothing but through Him by Him because of Him I can do any thing!

  19. That happened to me! About 18 months ago, I had been working way too much and not taking care of myself physically. I was at our office building by myself when I realized that the headache I’d had all morning was turning into a migraine, so I got up from the table where I was working and went to lay down across a row of chairs (I work at a church). Halfway across the room, I knew I was going to get sick so I turned around to go toward the bathroom. I started getting really hot and lightheaded so I walked past the bathroom to sit outside and get some fresh air. As I shifted my phone to my other hand to call my husband, my arms went completely numb from the elbows down, my fingers curled in, and my hands closed into distorted fists. I started having a panic attack and couldn’t catch my breath, which made the whole lightheaded thing much worse.

    The first thing to pop into my mind was “I’m not having a stroke because that would only affect one side of my body, not both sides at the same time.” I wasn’t completely sure I was correct, however, but if I was then that meant I had no idea what was happening and what if my migraine was actually an aneurysm?? The very next thought was of the incredible expense of just an ambulance ride to the hospital and what if nothing was wrong and now we owed a couple grand for no reason when we already don’t have a couple grand even if there IS a reason. The irrational indecision of wasting money or dying right there on the front steps because I was cheap sent me over the edge and I started crying while trying not to pass out at the same time. This caught the attention of a property maintenance guy working nearby, and he overrode my plea that I would be fine in a minute and called the paramedics. They arrived to tell me that nothing was wrong, I was having a panic attack and needed to rest and drink more water. My husband came to get me and after several hours, my hands uncurled and my arms went back to normal.

    You would think that would have gotten my attention about the pace at which I work but, to be honest, I still struggle with it. On the ride home that day, my husband lovingly scolded me about not listening to my body or him when he tried to get me to slow down, but I barely heard him because I was too busy scolding myself for being such a wuss that I couldn’t handle the pace I set. Reading your post today is a reminder to (a) drink more water! and (b) slow down, because who am I racing?

    So glad you’re okay and glad you had the presence of mind to say the right things to your kids. They’ll remember this incident, but even more so they will remember Who you relied on in that moment. You taught them faith in the midst of fear even if they don’t fully realize it until they’re older.

  20. I had a panic attack once before I knew what a panic attack was. I thought I was having some kind of heart attack or lung failure. Of course that made things worse! I have since received a lot of prayer, which has helped, and have thankfully not had any real brushes with death. All that to say, I can relate a little to your experience of expecting the worst.

    1. Ed,
      I can relate, as well. I had a panic attack once in college. I blame it on my Civil Rights professor, at the time. :) But, yes, our minds can make these situations so much worse. I’m thankful, as I’m sure you are, for prayer and God’s surpassing peace.

      Thanks for stopping over and commenting!

  21. I had a similar experience to yours when my bp plummeted after a late-night hot bath. I had my cellphone in the bathroom and I called my husband, twenty feet away, because I knew he wouldn’t hear me call out to him. I don’t remember if I prayed or just sat there thinking “please don’t let this be death” (which is a sort of prayer, I suppose), and eventually, it all ended up being okay, it was just scary.
    On the same lines, I think calm and collected adults can help kids deal with frightening situations, even if the name of Jesus doesn’t mean anything to them. I’ve been a child-care provider for years, and when crazy things happen, as they sometimes do with kids, being calm is much better than panicking, because they see that, and they realize that not everything is a crisis (even if it really is a crisis). Internally, I’m often terrified, but on the outside, I am much like you were in this situation.

  22. i’m reading this now because I’m over a week behind in my Google Reader…but yes, I have had one experience I was sure death was imminent and survived to tell about it.

    I was driving through the night to visit my now-wife who lived 7 hours away in Minnesota, as many have heard weather in Minnesota isn’t kind, especially when it rains in October. I knew the roads were slippery but am quite seasoned in driving in pretty crappy conditions, so I figured I’d continue. I was driving behind a semi-truck who was driving insanely slow and decided to pass him.

    As I type this, I realize that I am indeed, an idiot.

    Anywho…I hit a patch of black ice as I was passing the truck and begun sliding into the ditch to the left. My car began skidding sideways as I tried steering back onto the interstate when I looked to my left and saw that I was heading straight into an overpass. I knew that if I got back over to the right there was a good chance I would hit the semi, and straight up thought this was it, and remember thinking, “Becca is going to be pissed at me when she hears about this.” My next memory is the car correcting itself into the left lane and I couldn’t move. I had lifted my foot off the gas and coasted until I came to a complete stop on the interstate.

    I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that my Lord had control of my vehicle that night, thinking about it still causes me to shake.

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