Praise, Prayers, and a Painted Rock

I found this rock in a creek (in it’s natural state of course) while in the mountains for our anniversary trip.  I’ve always been one of those kids that collected rocks.  I’m not sure why, seeing as I was pretty much an indoor kid, but I’ve always been drawn to rocks, gems, and things of that nature. (No pun intended!) When I saw this one, I immediately wanted to keep it.  My first thought was that it would be my prayer rock.  I wanted to paint it when I got home, and it would be my physical reminder to always pray.  No matter where, no matter what, just pray.

Prayer has never been something that has come easy to me but I’ve been striving to make it a common practice throughout my day.  I kept it in my coat pocket the remainder of the trip and would hold onto it from time to time and rub it’s not completely smooth surface.  It was kind of comforting.  However, like with all things, I soon forgot about it, setting it in my side table dish.  I never painted it and it became more of a memento of our trip rather than the reminder I had originally chose it to be.  I still pray every day but not as often as I’d like my habit to be.

Then this Monday rolled around with a very harsh reminder of why I wanted that rock in the first place.

I received a call from my father-in-law as I was leaving the studio for the night and thought, I’ll call back once I’m on the road.  I don’t get good service in here anyway.  Once in the car, my mother-in-law called.  This was weird so I had a feeling something was up.  It was my husband, he was at the hospital after a t-bone collision, he was fine and just being checked out.  They we headed there to meet him.  By the absolute grace of God the accident happened to occur right in front of the main hospital in our area. He was ok and although I was worried, I wasn’t scared.  I picked up Mr. G from my parents’ house and just to make sure I was safe, my mom came with me for which I am very grateful.

As we drove to the hospital, we chatted about how crappy this was but how fortunate that my husband was ok.  Mr. G feel fast asleep.  Accidents can always be devastating and the fact that he was fine, nothing broken, completely conscious, was beyond a blessing.  We have very good insurance and all will get taken care of in time.  Then we came up to the intersection where the collision had occurred and saw blue lights and a tow truck at the gas station on the corner.  There was the car.  But the accident hadn’t occurred like I thought it had, on the passenger side.  I could tell that the driver’s side was caved in.  I lost it.

He had been hit, on his side.  His side.  Visions of what could have happened ran through my head and I began to cry.  Once I got in there, I saw my husband a got to him as fast as I could.  A little blood here and there, he had scrapes on his knees and marks where he had bit his lip hard from the side air bags deploying.  I didn’t want to hug him too tight for fear of any pain, so I did the best I could, shaking the whole time.  Once the shock wore off, we sat calmly in the waiting room while he got checked and x-rayed.  My mom and I ended up leaving before he was discharged just because Mr. G started to become restless and needed to go home.  I was comfortable leaving at that point, knowing that my husband was being looked at, had his parents to drive him home, and I had seen that he was ok.  Another major blessing in all this is how much support we have around us living 5 miles from the majority of our family.

Nevertheless, the next morning I saw my little rock sitting idly in my side table dish and immediately pick it up.  I carried it with me everywhere and plan to continue to do so.  I praise the Lord every chance I can that my husband is alive.  That he was watched over and protected in so many ways from that crash.  I’ve seen pictures of both cars and it’s just a miracle.  Also, my husband used to drive our smaller car but we’ve since switched due to mechanical malfunctions with the seat in the big car.  Basically, it won’t go up anymore so I can’t drive it anymore because I’m so short.  My husband is 6′ 2″ and had he been in the smaller car, I’m not sure what I would be writing, if I’d be writing at all.  God has a plan for us all.  Every little detail of our lives are for a purpose.  There was a reason that we hadn’t gotten the seat in the Mazda fixed yet.  This was it.


Huge praises to the one that watches over us all and loves us as his children.  I pray to continue to pray as much as I can, whenever I can.  To pray not only when I’m upset, in distress, or simply anxious, but when I’m happy and content too.  He deserves all of our praise, all of the time.  For God is good all the time and all the time God is good.

XO, Kelly

One Comment

  • Sarah

    I have been in a few car accidents myself so I know all about this feeling! God is good. So glad your husband is okay šŸ™‚ Your prayer rock is a good idea. I should get myself one.

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