(2 minutes, 20 seconds)

I went to school to be an Athletic Trainer. And so, by way of a college major, I signed up for being a first responder of sorts for sports injuries and emergencies.
On a recent drive with a few family members, I was recalling (what I thought was) awe-inspiring detail of my glory/ gory days of sports medicine, including a pole vaulter accident and a steeplechase wounding. I had just shared with them the ironic fact that even though this is what I had signed up to do, the truth was I hated emergencies. And accidents. And trauma.

Unbelievably less than three minutes later, we were first at the scene of an awful car accident.

As we approached the multi-vehicle accident, my mind slowly began registering the surreal and horrific reality just in front of us.
Stopping, I saw that immediately to our left was a banged-up SUV on the shoulder of the road and a visibly shaken guy standing near his vehicle, cell phone to his ear.
Strewn over the road in front of us were car parts leading to the remains of a smashed Corvette, which was facing away from us.

As I got out of our car, I couldn’t see movement or hear anything coming from the vehicle ahead.
Imagining the worst-case scenario, I encouraged my boys to stay back as I hurried toward the utterly destroyed car. Hollering to the driver of the SUV, I made sure he was calling 911.

I neglected to grab my emergency kit in my haste, but I instinctively prayed all the way to the car ahead. I whispered earnestly for God’s mercy, His presence to go before me, and wisdom and skill once I reached that car.
God answered all three of my requests.

Unbelievably and miraculously, by God’s great mercy, no one died in this accident.

I found two conscious people sitting in quiet stun in their smashed car, with their deployed airbags in their laps. Their two doors were inoperable, but the driver’s window was down. After briefly assessing that neither of them had sustained severe trauma and because of a foul smell and smoke rising in increasing measure from the passenger side of the car, I encouraged the two shaken people to climb through the window and sit at a safe distance from the vehicle and road.

Thankfully at this accident, I didn’t need to use my CPR mask or call upon much of my training in first aid. My greater purpose was that of staying for a long while and ministering to a wildly shaken but mercifully un-shattered woman who was the passenger of the car.
Sitting on the ground next to her, I listened, talked softly, and stayed near with my hand gently resting on her back while we waited for medical help to come.

And I am reminded, sometimes we have tangible skills or abilities to offer someone who’s hurting or in crisis.
But sometimes, we can’t “fix” them any more than I could have fixed that mangled Corvette. And as it turned out, my most significant offering was the gift of presence.

Though it seems less heroic than saving a life, I’m encouraged today not to underestimate the value of simply drawing near and sitting beside others in their pain and rubble.