Face-to-Face With Jesus
If I only had a few days’ rest, I could get back on top of things,” my husband’s youngest sister, Valerie, said. Her husband, Richard, was out west on a business trip. She sighed. “As darling as our kids are, it’s hard taking care of two little girls and a five-month-old boy by myself.”
“At least Doug’s a good-natured baby.”
“Yes, he is.” She squeezed him.
I studied his sturdy limbs, his adorable wispy curls above dark brown eyes. “When does Richard get back?”
“Monday night.”
“Doug drinks from a bottle now, doesn’t he?”
“That’s right. I couldn’t manage otherwise.” Valerie sank against the soft sofa cushions, looking exhausted.
I sat beside her. “Here, let me hold him.” As I lifted him, he snuggled without fussing. This was Friday evening. I didn’t have classes again until Monday. My husband, Jerome, and I exchanged glances. My eyes asked the question. His eyes answered.
“Valerie, my homework’s caught up—no classes until Monday. If you think . . .” I swallowed. “I mean, if you’d be willing to trust me, we’d love to have him for the weekend.”
When I patted Doug’s cheek, he cooed.
Relief flooded her face. “Are you serious?”
“Yes,” I said, with more confidence than I may have felt. “I’ve watched you care for him. I helped lots with my younger brother when he was little and he survived. Is there anything special I’d need to know?”
“Not really—not that I can think of. Phone if anything comes up.”
Jerome chucked Doug under his chin; he grinned.
I shifted the baby’s weight in my arms, and his smile grew. “Look, he understands. He’s okay with us.” My confidence grew.
“It looks that way. Wow. If you’re sure, that would be amazing.” Valerie gathered a few items in a diaper bag. “He’s a good little guy. Here’s lots of diapers, one prepared bottle, and plenty of formula.”
She slid the diaper bag strap over my shoulder and kissed Doug’s sweet forehead. “I love you, Dougie.” He waved and cooed.
“Thanks so much,” she said with a sigh. “A few days of rest will make me as good as new.”
“It’ll be fun. We’re glad to help.” It was after 10 p.m. on a warm summer night in Richmond Hill, north of Toronto. We drove south on Highway 404, slowing to the posted 45 miles per hour as we entered the residential area, though few houses were visible yet. The highway was well lit with little traffic. Road conditions were perfect.
Doug slept, wrapped in a blanket across my lap in those days before infant car seats. When he stirred minutes later, I felt impressed to give him his bottle immediately, before he woke up. Shifting him into the well-anchored football position, I placed the bottle in his mouth. I’d no sooner gripped him securely, when something very large, loud, and fast crashed into us from behind.
Brakes squealed and torn metal screamed as our car crumpled and the violent impact propelled us forward. The steering wheel held Jerome upright, but his driver’s door was torn off the frame and left behind on the highway.
Everything happened so fast. The magnetic flashlight on the front of our dash broke free and circled in the air. Though baby Doug’s bottle was torn from my hand and joined the spinning flashlight, he stayed secure. Whatever hit us had such force it snapped the substantial solid steel rod across our car’s front seat that released it to a complete fold-down bed. I was thrown into the back seat, still clutching baby Doug tight.
Until then, I hadn’t believed people who said their whole lives flashed before them when they faced possible death, but mine did now.
As Doug and I flew to the back seat, with our car careening crazily forward, out of control, I asked the Lord, Is this it? Are you taking us home?
Badly shaken, with objects flying everywhere, my husband managed to steer the car to the shoulder, finally stopping.
I scrambled out with Doug. That’s when I heard and saw Jesus—face-to-face.
“What did He look like?” people ask.
“Like you would expect,” I answer. He appears in ways familiar to us, I think, so that we’ll recognize Him.
Back in Sunday school days, I’d always loved the Sallman’s Head of Christ portrait, so that’s how Jesus appeared to me. Calm. Solid. Smiling. Real. With honey-brown hair curling to His shoulders, warm brown eyes, and wearing a long, simple homespun robe. He stood so near in the twilight, I could have reached out and touched Him. But it was enough to bask in His presence.
Clutching Doug close, I felt cocooned in peace. Jesus was there with us, only three or four feet away.
“Your time is not yet,” He said, love and peace emanating from His warm gaze. “I have more for you to do.” I heard His soft, reassuring voice. Comforting.
I felt safe, surrounded by great peace. I knew no serious harm could reach us.
I turned to Jerome. “The Lord is here. Do you see Him?”
He answered, “No, but I believe you. I feel the peace.”
Several things happened very fast. A car driving the opposite direction squealed to a stop as the driver ran to us, carrying a black leather bag. “I’m a news photographer with the Toronto Globe and Mail.” He hauled out a huge camera and started clicking away. “I saw the whole thing, so I’m taking these pictures and can be your witness. The driver didn’t hit his brakes at all. It’s almost like he hit you on purpose.”
The police came. The seventeen-year-old driver who’d crashed his father’s heavy car into us was going nearly 80 in a 45-mph zone. He didn’t have his headlights on and didn’t engage his brakes.
The young man was unhurt, since his car was so large and heavy. But he tested positive for drugs, lost his license, and faced serious charges.
Our car was totaled and missing a door, but we could drive home very slowly. Severe whiplash troubled me for years, but eventually subsided. Best of all, clutched safe and secure in my tight football hold, since I’d given baby Doug his bottle as soon as he stirred, he suffered no harm at all. Several doctors said if the steel rod controlling the release of our car’s front seat hadn’t broken completely, throwing Doug and me into the back seat, my neck would have snapped, paralyzing or killing me.
What I recall most about that unforgettable night is Jesus’ loving presence reassuring me that He had a plan and purpose for our lives through every circumstance. Although we’ve faced tests since then, He’s always kept His word.