The Rest of the Story

Farming is dangerous. At eleven years of age I was made very well of this when the father of seven children from our church was killed. He wasn't the last person I knew that was killed in a farming accident.

If you read the news you know the story. Train hit by a swather. Young man life flighted to Wichita. Devastating, how could anyone flirt so closely with death and survive? Even as helicopter blades blew over the soil of a farm field; already phone calls were being made and word was spreading quickly about the plight of this young man. Emergency crews of course couldn't arrive right away, but there was someone there to comfort. Close to the accident site lived a family from Jarad's church. The couple soothed Jarad with words and right there at the accident site they prayed. When he felt so alone and there was someone to say that everything was going to be alright. Others quickly heard the news and sent up cries of help in prayer not knowing if they would see mischievous smile of Jarad again.

Before the newspapers and media ever heard about the story a whole community of people rose up to pray for him.

All this went on that Friday morning without me knowing. Away at camp I couldn't answer my cell phone and when I did see my brother's name as a missed call instantly I knew something was wrong. He told me that the man that had been such clown in some of the wedding pictures of his big sister, also the wedding of my big brother, had been hit by a train, but was going to be okay.

I didn't know till later that of course it was question if he would actually live. Being hit by a train isn't exactly the most safest thing in the world. Just a few days later though there are still no brain injuries and though the story isn't over yet he is alive. The family still shudders when they hear a train whistle. Whispers of thanks go through our brains and we try so hard not to think of the what ifs.

We will go to church this morning and it will be a normal Sunday. A Sunday that so easily could have been a time of mourning for a life snuffed out.

Nobody fully understands how the accident happened. Nobody quite understands how he is alive, but all we know in those few horrible seconds Friday morning there was Someone watching out for Jarad. In the moments that followed there were the very tiny wondrous ways that it was evidence Jarad was being taken care of. Yes it was Friday the 13th, but there was not a stroke of bad luck. Bad things just happen. We don't like them, but then happen. What happened to Jarad was a bad thing, but there were the good things. In fact looking back over the events more good things happened then bad. Strangely yet not so so very strangely there has been more good that came out of the supposedly unlucky Friday the 13th then bad.

Friday the 13th last week was a very good day.