The smell was so bad he was embarrassed to take friends to lunch.
My husband drove a burgundy Saturn in the early days of our marriage. And it stunk. For a male, a little stink in a car is like a trophy.What guy wants his wheels to smell of strawberries and roses?
Join me today at 5 Minutes for Faith. Click HERE to read the rest of my devotion.
Carol
If you dig down enough, the tender spots are still there. Betrayal runs deep.
“Every time I call, her mom says she can’t come to the phone,” I shared with my own mother, confused. I was sixteen and had been in my first wreck. I was driving with one of my best friends when I turned left in front of an on-coming car. It struck us on the passenger side where she sat and pushed us through the intersection.
When the firemen arrived on the scene, they carefully pulled open the door for my friend so the shattered window wouldn’t fall in her lap. Her head hit the window on impact. Neither of us had a scratch, but the EMT suggested we take a visit to the hospital anyway – just to be safe.
Climbing in the ambulance scared me almost as much as the crash. Questions dashed here and there, so I couldn’t get a handle on any of them. I reverted to the simple and told the paramedics again and again, “I’m diabetic. I’m insulin dependent.” And I held out my wrist with Medic Alert dangling as if to ward off the IV poles and tubing all around me.
“It’s okay.” They assured me and patted my leg. “You are fine.”
The rest of the night was a blur. My aunt and uncle coming to the hospital in place of my parents who were at the lake. The tiny room made from a curtain pulled around a bed. And the safety pins my aunt brought for the drafty hospital gown.
I don’t remember leaving the hospital, but I do remember calling the next day to check on my friend. Each time I dialed I heard the same. “She is resting.” “She can’t come to the phone.” “Can she call you back?” Only she never did.
I didn’t intend to wreck my car that night. I wasn’t trying to harm my BFF, but she turned her back to me nonetheless. I cried for weeks – maybe months. I felt betrayed.
One day we were besties, and the next day we were nothing.
Taking that into mind, I can’t even wrap my mind around what Jesus went through that night in the Garden. Jesus took three of his closest friends with him to Gethsemane. Understanding what was about to happen, Christ told them, “My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death.” (Mark 14:34 NIV) He desperately needed some time alone with His Father. He asked his three buddies to keep watch while He prayed.
Instead they fell asleep. Christ was in agony, while his friends were catching some shut-eye. Ever feel like no one cares what you are going through? I’m sure Jesus felt the same. After waking the disciples, the praying/sleeping scenario happened two more times. Peter, James, and John just couldn’t keep their eyes open. I can only imagine the frustration to find them sleeping that third time. Just then, Judas approaches with an angry mob or crowd armed with swords and clubs. (v. 43)
He boldly walks right up to Jesus and betrays Him with a kiss.
As the guards began the arrest, chaos begins. Then everyone deserted him and fled. (Mark 14:50 NIV) Let that sink in a moment.
Then everyone deserted him and fled.
Betrayal hurts. Even if you are the Son of God.
For we do not have a high priest who is unable to empathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are—yet he did not sin. Hebrews 4:15 NIV
Being a Christian doesn’t mean you are immune to bad things. It doesn’t mean your friends will never betray you. Christ’s did. Why should we be any different?
Being a Christian means that disloyalty won’t keep you down. God conquered betrayal and death. Jesus was crucified as a result of Judas’ treachery. But friends, death could not keep Him in the grave. Don’t let a betrayal be the death of you.
Stand tall. It may be Friday, but Sunday’s coming.
Carol
If you dig down enough, the tender spots are still there. Betrayal runs deep.
“Every time I call, her mom says she can’t come to the phone,” I shared with my own mother, confused. I was sixteen and had been in my first wreck. I was driving with one of my best friends when I turned left in front of an on-coming car. It struck us on the passenger side where she sat and pushed us through the intersection.
When the firemen arrived on the scene, they carefully pulled open the door for my friend so the shattered window wouldn’t fall in her lap. Her head hit the window on impact. Neither of us had a scratch, but the EMT suggested we take a visit to the hospital anyway – just to be safe.
Climbing in the ambulance scared me almost as much as the crash. Questions dashed here and there, so I couldn’t get a handle on any of them. I reverted to the simple and told the paramedics again and again, “I’m diabetic. I’m insulin dependent.” And I held out my wrist with Medic Alert dangling as if to ward off the IV poles and tubing all around me.
“It’s okay.” They assured me and patted my leg. “You are fine.”
The rest of the night was a blur. My aunt and uncle coming to the hospital in place of my parents who were at the lake. The tiny room made from a curtain pulled around a bed. And the safety pins my aunt brought for the drafty hospital gown.
I don’t remember leaving the hospital, but I do remember calling the next day to check on my friend. Each time I dialed I heard the same. “She is resting.” “She can’t come to the phone.” “Can she call you back?” Only she never did.
I didn’t intend to wreck my car that night. I wasn’t trying to harm my BFF, but she turned her back to me nonetheless. I cried for weeks – maybe months. I felt betrayed.
One day we were besties, and the next day we were nothing.
Taking that into mind, I can’t even wrap my mind around what Jesus went through that night in the Garden. Jesus took three of his closest friends with him to Gethsemane. Understanding what was about to happen, Christ told them, “My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death.” (Mark 14:34 NIV) He desperately needed some time alone with His Father. He asked his three buddies to keep watch while He prayed.
Instead they fell asleep. Christ was in agony, while his friends were catching some shut-eye. Ever feel like no one cares what you are going through? I’m sure Jesus felt the same. After waking the disciples, the praying/sleeping scenario happened two more times. Peter, James, and John just couldn’t keep their eyes open. I can only imagine the frustration to find them sleeping that third time. Just then, Judas approaches with an angry mob or crowd armed with swords and clubs. (v. 43)
He boldly walks right up to Jesus and betrays Him with a kiss.
As the guards began the arrest, chaos begins. Then everyone deserted him and fled. (Mark 14:50 NIV) Let that sink in a moment.
Then everyone deserted him and fled.
Betrayal hurts. Even if you are the Son of God.
For we do not have a high priest who is unable to empathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are—yet he did not sin. Hebrews 4:15 NIV
Being a Christian doesn’t mean you are immune to bad things. It doesn’t mean your friends will never betray you. Christ’s did. Why should we be any different?
Being a Christian means that disloyalty won’t keep you down. God conquered betrayal and death. Jesus was crucified as a result of Judas’ treachery. But friends, death could not keep Him in the grave. Don’t let a betrayal be the death of you.
Stand tall. It may be Friday, but Sunday’s coming.
Carol
“I can’t find the thing,” I spat into the phone. “Which thing?” my husband questioned me. “The thing. The thing! The thing that tightens the car seat!” My patience thin, I shouted into the phone while my husband tried to explain how to install my daughter’s car seat…
Join me at 5 Minutes for Faith for the rest of my devotion. The deep freeze in Georgia is getting to my brain. This post was actually up to read last Friday on 5 Minutes for Faith, but I’m just now remembering. Click HERE to join me there.
Carol
There were no shows at the theatre we wanted to see, so he suggested we drop by Blockbuster for a rental. I was driving, so I chose the route home beside the movie store, but as I came near I drove right past. Alan questioned me and I gave him a simple, “I changed my mind.” I paused thinking, “How strange. I wanted to see a movie just five minutes ago,” but drove on home.
My parents were up the street at a birthday party. The house was empty. I walked straight back to my room and put my purse down. The phone was ringing when I returned to the den.
“Hello, is this Mrs. Buell?”
“This is Carol Buell.”
“Carol, is Susan Buell your mother?”
“Yes.”
“How old are you?”
“Twenty-three. Can I take a message for my mom?”
“I guess you are old enough. Carol. I need you to listen. Your brother Jay Buell has been in a car accident-”
“Is he okay?”
“Well he’s a strong guy, but he is hurt pretty bad. Do you know how to contact your parents? You need to come to the hospital.”
I sank in the chair next to me and listened while she gave me the details of where we needed to go. I grabbed the closest pen and paper. My hand shook. My eyes were wet.
I hung up and knew why my desire to stop at Blockbuster left. We would have missed the call. No one would have been home.
Alan and I got back in the car to get my parents. They were laughing and opening gifts with friends and relatives. I wasn’t sure how to approach. I beckoned my mother to me and don’t even remember what I said, but we quickly left – my parents in one car and Alan and I in another.
At the hospital, we waited for an eternity before anyone would let us see my brother or even come talk to us. When the doctor finally appeared, he tried his best to prepare us for what we would see. He explained how Jay was trapped in his car after a head-on collision. The Jaws of Life had to cut him out. His car had completely crushed his lower body. His face was bruised and bloodied, and there was a large chunk missing out of his arm. I’ll never forget the doctor explaining how Jay had NO internal injuries. “It was as if someone were to have placed a hand over his middle section,” the doctor explained and placed his own hand on his chest, “and protected that part.”
Chills ran down my spine and tears fell down my cheeks because I knew someone had done just that.
Jay spent all night in surgery to fill his legs with steel rods and pins. But within a week, he was home. He could barely walk, each step caused excruciating pain, but he was home.
When my dad went to see if he could get some things out of the car before it was totaled, he was in shock. Mom said he sat down and cried, thanking God for sparing his son. The car was a mangled mess. It was a miracle my brother survived.
You won’t believe this, but my brother wore a tuxedo to my wedding just two weeks after the accident. He was in a wheelchair. We were so thankful.
Today, my brother is married to his high school sweetheart. The accident brought them back together after many years apart. She never left his side, and he knew she was a keeper. They have three children. Jay can walk, run, ride a bike, and jump on the trampoline.
And every day I have the privilege of watching. Watching God’s plan unfold for my brother’s life. Because on June 14, 1997 it became very obvious that God was not done with him yet. He had a greater plan.
Jay and his three blessings. 6/2008
Carol