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“The devil had his foot on the gas, but Jesus had His hand on the wheel!”
I said these words to a friend hours after an accident that could have resulted in the death of several people. A “freak” electronic malfunction that could have resulted in my death as well.
It was not, however, completely unexpected.
For the week preceding the events of that Saturday morning, I had been speaking extensively about spiritual warfare on social media. Particularly, that the devil will and does attack those who set out to reveal his tactics and deceptions–to “expose the works of darkness. (Eph. 5:11)” I said that his goal is to silence those who speak out by any means necessary. Which would certainly include “freak” electronic malfunctions. I concluded that because there was so much ignorance among U.S. Christians about spiritual warfare, my wife and I would be writing a series of blog posts on this topic of vital importance.
And then it was Saturday morning.
When I stepped up into the truck and eased into the driver’s seat, I noticed my mother-in-law in the passenger’s seat. “You don’t have to ride in this bumpy truck,” I told her. “Why not ride in the comfy van with Rebecca?” My wife, Rebecca, planned to follow me back to the truck rental center in our van. My mother-in-law agreed, and left the truck.
Thank God she did!
As I always do first every time I am seated in a vehicle, I fastened my seat belt. Then I placed my right foot on the brake, and turned the key in the ignition. It started. I placed my right hand on the gear shift lever on the steering column and slid it down into drive. As soon as it was in gear, the engine roared and the truck shot forward like the gas pedal was to the floor. My head jerked violently backward as the truck raced toward an apartment building on the other side of the parking lot.
Having driven trucks and tracked vehicles in the Army for more than 13 years, myImage may be NSFW.
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military training took hold. I immediately placed my left foot on the brake along with my right (which had never left the brake pedal) and stood on it with all my weight…but it did nothing. I glanced down at the gas pedal to see if it was stuck to the floor, but I could see the shadow behind it… it was in the upright position. With my right hand still on the gear lever, I furiously struggled to jam it into neutral or park, but to no avail. Realizing that the truck was not going to stop, I turned the steering wheel hard to the left to avoid driving through the front door of the apartment across the parking lot. I struck the corner of the building at what I would guess was 30-35 miles per hour–as the vehicle was still accelerating! Thankfully, the impact jarred the transmission and I was able to jam the gear shift into park. I then turned off the vehicle, removed the key and my paperwork, removed my seat belt. Rebecca then threw the truck door open and I jumped down and into her arms.
What Went Through My Mind
Praise God, I called out to Jesus as the entire event unfolded. I asked Him for help. And–praise His holy name–He heard me!
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As I’ve contemplated those few seconds (which seemed like an hour), I can say that I was keenly aware of Jesus’ presence in the cab of the truck with me. But there were also many other thoughts that raced through my mind. I thought about Rebecca–the woman who loves me most in this world–and the horror she must have been experiencing as she watched helplessly. I thought about my sons and the conversation I’d had with them the night before about what would happen to them if I died. I thought about my conversation with my dad a couple hours after my conversation with my sons. We’d talked about how I was encountering severe spiritual warfare, and he said that he would pray for me. I thought about my tweets on spiritual warfare, and how I said the enemy would make every attempt to silence those who set out to expose him and his tactics.
I was not afraid.
For a moment, though, I wondered if I was going to die. After all, perhaps that was why the Lord had laid it on my heart to discuss where my sons would go if I happened to die before they were old enough to leave home. But it was only a momentary thought. The peace that overwhelmed my spirit told me that even if I did, I would be with my Jesus. So, either way, I could say with the Apostle Paul, “For to me, living means living for Christ, and dying is even better! (Phil. 1:21)”
It’s a War
So there you have it. And, believe it or not, my experience is not uncommon among those who are actively waging spiritual warfare against the enemy. In fact, you can find many stories similar to mine among preachers, missionaries and evangelists–not to mention laypersons who are actively proclaiming the Gospel. Bear in mind that while the enemy’s attacks are not always this dramatic, they are steady and intense. This world is not Eden, after all. It is a battlefield. There is a war going on that we cannot see. We must never forget that.
I will begin posting my series on spiritual warfare very soon. In the meantime, please continue to remember my family in prayer. We need all that we can get.
Your brother-in-arms,
Dwight
The Parson
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