1jester
Darkside Pilgrim Sojourner
Posts: 17270
Joined: Jul 2002
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Tuesday September 30, 2003 2:58 PM
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Laurent, first of all I want to thank you for giving me the occasion to
tell this story, which I consider an opportunity to witness to you all
of the greatness and power of the Almighty Lord and Creator. God is a
loving God, and He wants us children to love Him. This is a timeless
and universal need of ours. God has worked countless millions of
miracles ever since He created us, and I believe He has done that in
every instance in order to show us mortals who He is. In my life, He
has performed quite a few miracles (most of which I'm sure I am not
even aware of), up to and including saving me from death and certain,
imminent death.
Having
been raised in a loving (well, at least for the most part), Christian
family, I have always believed in God. When I was 10 years old, I
wanted to be baptised, but my father wouldn't allow it, saying it's a
decision only adults can make (he was baptised when he was 15). I felt
I was ready, but it was a no-go at the time. Not too long after that,
my family stopped going to church, due to some practices of the people
in the church not being 100% in accordance with the Bible, and regional
differences in the way people in that denomination practiced their
faith (we'd moved to Germany, and the Germans were different than those
in the Bible Belt of the South) Throughout my adolescence, I continued
to drift along in my life, wondering what the meaning of life was, and
what truth is. I guess I still had in my memory the fact that God is
Truth, but I was free to explore what I could in this world.
Three
days after turning 18, my younger brother and I got lost in a snowstorm
while skiing, and we ended up in a national forest traipsing through 4
feet of snow, trying to get closer to the ski lodge and the town at the
bottom of the mountain. This was in Garmisch, Germany, and in a weird
twist of fate, the slope we'd been skiing down simply ended halfway up
the mountain, leaving the ski lift as the only way back up.
Unfortunately, the lift operator had left early (this was 4:45 pm, and
still light), and we decided to try to follow his tracks through the
forest. In any case, we got lost and despite my survival training and
skills, hypothermia set in unannounced, probably egged on by the fact
that we'd both fallen through the ice of a creek, and our legs got wet
up to our knees. After a few hours, we did finally find a road, which
made the going a bit easier, but we weren't "out of the woods" yet by
any means. It was about 15 degrees and snowing, and after a while we
decided to stop to check out the condition of our legs, since we could
no longer feel anything. We stopped at a resort building under
construction, which was barred up, and by one entrance we sat down and
took off our ski boots only to find that all of our clothes were frozen
solid. I thought it was a bit strange to have a sheet of ice next to my
skin, but what could we do? We decided that it was a good idea to lie
down together and continue in the morning. Mind you, this happened even
though I "knew" about the dangers and warning signs of hypothermia. We
lay down and fell asleep. I don't know if it was minutes, or seconds
later, but I heard a voice that said "Get up. If you don't, you are
going to die." So I thought to myself (thinking I was just thinking to
myself anyway) that that made a lot of sense, and that we had to keep
moving. So I got up, woke up my brother, and told him we had to keep
moving to stay alive. So we got up and went back about 45 minutes to a
log supply cabin we'd seen earlier. We broke in and found 7 wool
blankets so even though there was no heat, at least we were able to
survive. I won't go into too much detail about how early the next
morning we heard angry voices of some Germans (probably forest rangers)
screaming at us, telling us we were surely terrorists. We told them, in
perfect German, that we were Americans who had been lost the whole
night. They didn't believe us, and were throwing our stuff into the
snow. Finally, it dawned on them that we were indeed the Americans who
they'd heard about all night long on their radio in their new Subaru
wagon. They told us how to get back to Garmisch and as we skiied the
hour back into town, and were met by an oncoming Ski Patrol Land Rover,
they passed by us without giving us a ride. Anyway, the Ski Patrol said
many people had been looking for us all night long, even with a
helicopter. We'd heard nothing. Back at the US Base, my parents were
waiting for us (we were supposed to have met them at 5 pm and when we
didn't show up, they reported us missing but the Ski Patrol and police
told them to check the bars first. But knowing my dad's penchant for
discipline, they were soon convinced he was serious.). My father is a
physician, and he checked us out, and to my astonishment, and his
nonchalance, he could find nothing wrong with us. Our legs and feet
looked, acted, felt completely normal, even though they had been caked
in ice for over 6 hours the previous night. To this day, I have
sensitivity in my feet, hands, and face due to this exposure. My dad
simply said, "There ain't nothin' wrong with you!" I know now that I
experienced at least two miracles that night: the seemingly impossible
good condition of our legs, and the fact that I'd been awakened from
certain death while we were in the last throes of hypothermia.
Anyway,
I give this story as an example of miracles that happen, and how God
does protect people and intervene in our lives. Incidentally, God has
performed numerous life-saving miracles in my life, but I'll spare you
the details in this post. Also, I wanted to say that after this
experience, my attitude toward life was most certainly altered. I
wanted to experience life to the fullest, and do many things that I
hadn't done, because I knew life is short. So I continued on my search
for truth, and took courses in literature, philosophy and history. I
gained a secular education, but neglected the greatest Book and Word,
the Bible. I became involved in many unseemly practices, thinking I was
on the path to a full life and knowledge. I even came to the decision
that Christianity was a farce, because so many people had killed others
in the name of Christ. I studied paganism and identified with it, even
despising Christians. At the same time, I still knew that God was the
Ruler of the world, but I didn't know how to fit Christ into this
picture. Only later, about 6-7 years later, did it dawn upon me that
the people who'd killed in the name of Christ were only humans. Humans
killing humans. Christ had nothing to do with that, and I should give
Him a chance. So I took it upon myself to do what my grandfather had
admonished me to do, and that was to read God's Word. Read the Bible. I
started reading the Bible, and the more I read, the more interested I
became. I studied the Bible and read it through completely. Then I
started over. I then decided it was no shame to identify myself as
Christian. In fact, I wanted to and did. I was glad God had sent His
son to make the ultimate sacrifice in order that we all could have
eternal life. I wanted to glorify God. After a while, and of course
much prayer, I became convinced I should follow Christ's example, and
be baptised in His name. So I found a church that, in my estimation,
most completely follows the Bible and God's commandments (of which the
fourth commandment to keep the Sabbath Day holy is included).
This
brings us to last March. The very week I was to be baptised, in fact on
the first day of that week, I was visiting my friends in a city about 4
hours from my home, and I traveled by bus. On my return trip, I fell
asleep in the back of the bus, but slept lightly. After nearly 2 hours,
I felt the bus pull over, and I knew it wasn't a scheduled stop. I woke
up, looked around, and saw car parts on the road. I turned to the back,
and saw a red VW Golf (3rd generation) sitting in the middle of the
road, smashed flat up to the A pillar; the windshield had been knocked
out and was lying on the road. A little to the right, in the ditch, was
another Golf, also smashed almost to the A pillar. I saw a line of
about 10 cars behind the red Golf, and about 20 people or so standing
not too far off. There were some people in the red car, but nobody was
helping them. I looked at the green car in the ditch and saw 2 people
trying to open the doors. I jumped up and started saying (or yelling)
that we had to help those people. I ran to the front of the bus and the
driver opened the door and I ran out and to the red car. There had been
a head-on collision merely seconds, max 1 minute before we arrived. I
saw that there were 4 people in the red car, and I thought, wow! Were's
the engine? The front was flat as a pancake, and yet everybody was
alive. I noticed gasoline and other engine fluids leaking onto the
pavement. I thought, that's not such a good situation; we must evacuate
the people from the car before it catches fire. I noticed some people
smoking too. I was surprised that nobody wanted to help; perhaps
everybody was afraid to get involved. I heard people inside the car
screaming, and also saying to call an ambulance. I heard people outside
saying they'd already called an ambulance and fire department. The
people inside were in shock, and a bit hysterical. They kept begging
for the emergency services. I told them that we'd already called them,
but that we needed to get them out of there immediately. They seemed
awfully comfortable inside, and insisted that they would wait for the
fire department. I said, OK, we can wait, but we need to get you out of
there right away. I assessed the situation as best I could: imminent
danger of fire and explosion, four door car with only the left rear
door openable, four people inside, no apparant injuries save the front
passenger, who was screaming the whole time due to a very bloody face.
He was a big guy. I went over to him, and the engine was near his feet
I guess. The whole car looked like an accordian. He had his seat belt
on, as did the driver. The passenger kept screaming. I didn't know what
to do for him, but I supposed that his face had knocked out the
windshield, breaking his nose. I returned to the driver, and knew the
first order of business was to cut the seatbelts. I felt my right
pocket for my Gerber 400, but realized I'd broken it (or actually lost
some parts) the previous week while practicing my knife throwing. I
thought, big bummer. Just when I need a knife (and I've carried one
every day for nearly 20 years), I don't have one. Then I almost
instinctively felt the top pocket of my military field jacket, and
relieved, I noticed I still had my back-up knife. I pulled it out, and
cut his belt. I heard someone outside the car say, "Good, he has a
knife!". Then I went around to the front passenger and cut his belt
too. I returned to the left side of the car, and the left rear door was
open and a very fat lady, about 300 pounds, was sitting, swinging her
legs around. I then knew that she'd not hurt her spine or neck, and
could be evacuated. I told her she had to get out immediately. She
said, "But I can't feel my foot." Apparantly, in the confines of a
Golf, there isn't much room for such a big woman, and her foot had been
caught under the driver's seat when they crashed. I managed to put my
arms around her, under her arms, and locked my hands together, and
somehow, easily, and without any pain or feeling, lifted her slowly and
carefully out and about a foot or two away. Then she repeated that she
couldn't feel her leg. I thought to myself, if she can't move on her
own, I will need help. I carried her back to the seat, sat her down,
and looked around desparately for someone to help me. There must have
been 30-40 people standing around by this time. Nobody wanted to help
me. Then I just shouted, "Somebody help me!!!" And immediately there
was a man by my side, who took one of her arms and I took the other,
and we took her about 4-5 yards away, to the shoulder of the road, and
gently lay her down. I thanked the man. I didn't see him again after
that. But I was too busy concentrating on the next order of business,
which was getting the others out of there. I went back, and the right
rear passenger was a young lady, and she had no injuries at all. She
was wiggling around inside, but made no effort to get out, just saying
that it was safe in there and nothing was wrong, and she intended to
stay inside the car. I said, "No, you must get out immediately." and
proceeded to move her legs around so I could pull her out. Seeing that
I was serious, she simply climbed out of the car herself and walked
away, without a scratch. Interestingly, neither of the rear passengers
had been wearing seatbelts. Then I went around to the bleeding
passenger, and tried to force the door open. It wouldn't budge. He kept
screaming that his face hurt. I told him to relax and that everything
would be OK. I then checked out his bloody button-down shirt. Blood
everywhere. I unbuttoned it to give him room to breathe, and noticed
that he had no visible damage except to his nose. I was relieved. I
then went back around to the driver, and grabbed his seat and simply
pulled it from behind. It folded like paper, giving him room to crawl
out, which he did. He walked away without a scratch. I decided against
trying to evacuate the fat passenger, due to the fact that the car
wasn't on fire yet, and the possibility of him having some unseen
injuries, plus it would have been difficult to pull him over, back, and
out of the car. Right at that moment, and about 8 minutes after we'd
arrived on the scene, a van full of about 4 young (20-ish) policemen
pulled up, and they sauntered over to the red car and asked what was
up. They didn't look too competent, and this was perhaps their first
such accident. I know it was my first. They didn't know what to do, and
there wasn't much that they could do until the firemen arrived. About
30 seconds later, two firetrucks pulled up, and I knew they'd be able
to take care of the situation. They immediately went to the red car,
put some sort of device under the car and near the engine. My guess is
that it's some device to evacuate fumes, in order to avert a possible
fire. I thought, excellent idea. Then they proceeded to start cutting
the car apart, which took over 10-15 minutes I suppose, and it left
nothing of the car except the floorboard and wheels. At this point, I
turned my attention to the other car in the ditch. The rear two doors
were open, and the rear passengers, I ascertained, were those 25-year
old guy and girl, who was running around screaming hysterically, "Oh,
my mom!!! Why did this happen to my mom??!!" The two rear passengers
were unhurt. But on the shoulder was the mother of the girl, the driver
of the car, a woman of about 50 years. She was blue and lifeless. I
thought, she's gone. But knowing that statistically, about 0.0000001
percent of people who've been without oxygen for that long (8-10
minutes), have survived, I decided it was worth trying to give her CPR.
I knew that those survivors had also been in extreme conditions, like
falling off ships into cold water, thereby slowing body functions. But
I wanted to give this woman every chance to survive. There was another
young lady near me (and she was a passenger on my bus, it turns out, a
medical student). She was sad, but we tried to give her CPR. It didn't
work, because she had massive internal injuries and we couldn't get air
in. She had no rib cage anymore, and probable punctured lungs anyway. I
got up, and so did the young lady. A man came up, announcing he was a
doctor, checked her out, and pronounced her dead. I said, I know.
Because I could do nothing else, I turned away and started to cry, as
did the young lady who was assisting. Then my gaze fell on another lady
who was lying not too far away. My guess was that she was the front
passenger of the green car. She was staring at me. I've never seen
anything so eery in my life. She was giving me the most penetrating
stare I've ever seen, right into my eyes. I think she was alive. But I
don't know when she gave up the ghost, because that's what it looked
like she was doing at that instant. I couldn't look anymore, and turned
away.
The bus was still sitting there, and a group of
passengers were sitting down not far away. I walked near them. I think
the bus driver was talking to a policeman about the accident. We
weren't involved in it, but perhaps he'd seen something of it. Anyway,
nobody was getting on, so I waited around at least 5 minutes, maybe
more. I watched the firemen work on cutting apart the car. Eventually,
I felt the need to relieve myself, so I went down the embankment (on
right side of the road, the opposite side from the green car), and went
behind a big tree. As I came up, I looked at the bus, still parked
about 20 meters away, up the road. I no longer saw the group of
passengers sitting outside the back of the bus. But there was one man
waving to me and shouting to me. "Aren't you a passenger on the bus?" I
replied yes! He said, "Well, you better hurry, because it's leaving!
Come on!!" I looked at the bus, and sure enough, it started to drive
away. I ran toward the man and the departing bus, and he ran alongside
me, and we were waving to the driver in the rear-view mirror, to stop.
After running about 40-50 meters, the bus pulled back over and stopped,
and we ran up to the door. I breathed a thank you to the other
passenger. We waited a second for the door to swing out, and I stepped
back as it did, and the other guy got on in front of me. I heard the
bus driver ask, "Is there anybody else?" As the man stepped on the bus,
I looked down to place my foot on the first step. As I looked up, the
bus driver repeated his question, looking directly at me. I realized he
was talking to me, while I thought he was talking to the other
passenger. So I said, "No, that's all." The driver shut the door and
pulled away. As I made my way to the back seat, I didn't really think
of the significance of the missing passenger, but I did scan all the
seats looking for where he might have sat down. He had simply
disappeared. Vanished into thin air. I didn't give it much thought
though. After about 10 minutes, I moved up to near the front of the bus
where the medical student was sitting. We talked the rest of the bus
ride. She was distraught that we weren't able to save that woman. I
tried to reassure her that we had been instrumental in saving lives
that morning. When we arrived to the bus station, she invited me to
visit her that Friday evening.
The whole week I thought about
the missing passenger. Where had he gone??? I couldn't understand it.
So when I got to her place, her boyfriend and sister and I discussed
the accident with her. Practically the first thing I asked her was
where that guy had gone to. She asked me, "What guy?" I said, "The guy
who got onto the bus with me." She said, "I didn't see anyone get onto
the bus with you." I said, "Don't you remember? He was the one waving
to me and shouting to me to hurry up and catch the bus. We were running
together (under her window on the bus), and when the bus stopped, he
got on in front of me." She said, "There was nobody else. You were
running alone and got on the bus alone." We were all pretty amazed. So
I had confirmation of what had started to creep into my conscience;
namely, that it had been an angel of the Lord who'd saved me from
missing the bus. And it happened the week of my baptism; the week of
the very important event in my life when I'd decided to follow the
Lord. And I'd found out for sure that it had been an angel, exactly on
the Sabbath of my baptism, on Friday evening (since the Sabbath starts
Friday evening at sundown). The Lord had chosen to pick the most
important, symbolic time in my new life to show me that He is here with
us all the time, that He cares if we live or die, even if we miss the
bus!!
Praise the Lord Almighty!!! God is most excellent.
  
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.....GOD
"Get thee behind me, Satan: for it is written, Thou shalt worship the Lord thy God, and Him only shalt thou serve." --Luke 4:8
"But he that shall blaspheme against the Holy Ghost hath never forgiveness, but is in danger of eternal damnation." --Mark 3:29
"For many are called, but few are chosen." --Matthew 22:14
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