What-ifs are usually dangerous. They can paralyze you with indecision, and keep you shut up in your house in fear. What if I make the wrong choice? What if I say the wrong thing? What if nobody likes me? What if I'm alone forever? What if, what if, what if?
Occasionally, though, the what-ifs can make you stop and take stock of what you have. I was in a motorcycle accident recently, and playing the what-if game helped me realize how incredibly fortunate I was (for which I give all the glory to God--I wouldn't be here today if it weren't for his protection and mercy!).
Basically, this is what happened: I was driving home from my language lesson, and it started to rain. I'd just bought a rain suit two days earlier, and was wearing the jacket instead of the poncho--maybe you've seen the ponchos; they have two slits for the bike's mirrors, and a hole for the driver's head. A bicycle was driving down the middle of the narrow, curvy road that swings around the edge of the temple, and I swerved to go past him. Unfortunately, he was blocking my view of an oncoming motorcycle, and in my panic, I lost control of the bike and laid it down (don't ask me what I did; I have no memory of the actual accident. I probably squeezed the front brake which made my back end skid). As I was laying there, staring up the sky and realizing I'd just been in an accident, my first thought was, "Oh, crap!" My second thought was merely an overwhelming sense of thankfulness that I was still alive to have such thoughts, and that nothing major was broken. I could feel how badly my feet and legs hurt, which meant my back was fine, and I hadn't lost consciousness, so my head seemed to be okay, too.
So, what if? What if I had been going faster than 25 mi/hr? What if I'd been wearing my poncho that effectively ties me to the bike? What if I'd hit a truck rather than another motorcycle? What if I'd been on a busier road and another vehicle had struck me before I could get out of the way? There's a sharp drop-off on most of that road; what if I'd dropped off the 30-foot ledge? I could go on and on. The effect of all these what-ifs serve to make me thankful. Usually when something like this happens, people start to look for reasons why, or at least what lessons can be learned. For me, I think it was a reminder that I am not in control. I have no memory of the events immediately leading up to the accident, so there's nothing I can point to and say, "Next time, try this. Next time, don't do that." I don't know what went wrong, so I don't know how to avoid it again. Maybe I did everything right, but the wet road simply made staying in control impossible. I don't know. So what I take away from this is that, no, I'm not in control (much as I think I'd like to be); God is. And he's pretty good at it.
Occasionally, though, the what-ifs can make you stop and take stock of what you have. I was in a motorcycle accident recently, and playing the what-if game helped me realize how incredibly fortunate I was (for which I give all the glory to God--I wouldn't be here today if it weren't for his protection and mercy!).
Basically, this is what happened: I was driving home from my language lesson, and it started to rain. I'd just bought a rain suit two days earlier, and was wearing the jacket instead of the poncho--maybe you've seen the ponchos; they have two slits for the bike's mirrors, and a hole for the driver's head. A bicycle was driving down the middle of the narrow, curvy road that swings around the edge of the temple, and I swerved to go past him. Unfortunately, he was blocking my view of an oncoming motorcycle, and in my panic, I lost control of the bike and laid it down (don't ask me what I did; I have no memory of the actual accident. I probably squeezed the front brake which made my back end skid). As I was laying there, staring up the sky and realizing I'd just been in an accident, my first thought was, "Oh, crap!" My second thought was merely an overwhelming sense of thankfulness that I was still alive to have such thoughts, and that nothing major was broken. I could feel how badly my feet and legs hurt, which meant my back was fine, and I hadn't lost consciousness, so my head seemed to be okay, too.
So, what if? What if I had been going faster than 25 mi/hr? What if I'd been wearing my poncho that effectively ties me to the bike? What if I'd hit a truck rather than another motorcycle? What if I'd been on a busier road and another vehicle had struck me before I could get out of the way? There's a sharp drop-off on most of that road; what if I'd dropped off the 30-foot ledge? I could go on and on. The effect of all these what-ifs serve to make me thankful. Usually when something like this happens, people start to look for reasons why, or at least what lessons can be learned. For me, I think it was a reminder that I am not in control. I have no memory of the events immediately leading up to the accident, so there's nothing I can point to and say, "Next time, try this. Next time, don't do that." I don't know what went wrong, so I don't know how to avoid it again. Maybe I did everything right, but the wet road simply made staying in control impossible. I don't know. So what I take away from this is that, no, I'm not in control (much as I think I'd like to be); God is. And he's pretty good at it.
