Two nights ago, Ashley and I went on our weekly date to the mall to enjoy
good food, some AC and each other's company.
All was normal as we hopped on her motorbike to head home at around 8:30pm.
We frequently talk about how dangerous the roads are here because people are just careless when it comes to driving, and when you are on a moto, well… there's just no protection at all.
The first time I ever rode with Ash, we watched a teenager fall off the back of a moto
that was not going very fast, but he was still badly hurt.
Heck, I've even seen people just fall over on their motos and be injured.
There are just so many risks when it comes to driving here.
As we neared the bridge that would take us over the thin stretch of water
that divides Phuket from Koh Sirey, I felt an urgency to pray.
Now, I just want to preface this with the fact that I trust Ashley's driving capabilities completely.
I wasn't feeling afraid of the way she was driving, nor was I fearful about what could potentially happen.
I just knew I needed to pray, so I did.
I just kept repeating the words,
"Jesus, keep us safe. Get us home safe. Keep us and the bike safe."
I felt the rush of wind against my face on the open stretch of road, and repeated my prayer.
I was in the middle of repeating it a third time when I heard Ashley yell, and felt her pull on the brake harder than usual.
It all happened so fast.
In a matter of seconds, our bodies were on the pavement on the opposite side of the road,
scraping against the rough tar underneath the momentum of the bike that was now on top of us.
Ashley stood up first, and it was then that I realized I couldn't move my right leg
as it was trapped under the exhaust pipe, which should have been scorching hot considering we had just been driving for half hour.
The man who was driving the car that unexpectedly pulled out in front of us without looking
came running over, and he was the one who lifted the bike off of me.
When I stood up, I immediately reached for my forearm expecting to find blood,
but instead found only pebbles from the road imprinted into my skin.
I looked at Ashley completely dumbfounded at what had just happened and asked if she was okay.
The man kept saying "so sorry! so sorry!"
and in my shocked state, all I could do was look at him and shake my head.
He started the bike again to make sure it was still working and then he adjusted the mirror,
the only thing that was out of place on the entire bike.
He kept apologizing profusely and Ashley told him in Thai to drive slowly and that this was not good.
He apologized again before he got in his car and sped away.
Ashley and I asked each other about ten more times if we were okay and then hopped back on the bike.
During the two minute drive home from the site of the accident,
I couldn't stop marvelling at the fact that we were almost completely unharmed.
It doesn't make any sense.
We should have been seriously injured.
I remember feeling my arm scrape against pavement, yet there is only a bruise and a few scratches to show for it.
Not to mention the fact that we were laying on the opposite side of the road and there was absolutely NO TRAFFIC coming, which is completely unheard of here.
It's nothing short of a miracle.
There is no doubt in my mind that Jesus kept us alive.
And as I laid in my bed praising Him for the fact that I was alive and could feel pain in my bruised elbow, God began to speak to me about where my heart has been the past couple months.
He reminded me of all the promises He spoke to me.
He reminded me that my heart for Thailand is His heart for Thailand.
He reminded me that I am loved, and that I am heard, and that
He is deeply honoured when I choose to worship Him in the midst of all the chaos and the unknown.
And I guess when you're so caught up in what's going on and aren't listening,
Jesus will throw you off a motorbike to remind you of how much He really does love you.
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