“And the road goes ever on and on, down from the door where it began. Now far ahead the road has gone, and I must follow if I can…” (JRR Tolkien).
All I remember is the noise. It was a compact crunching sound that seemed to suck the air out of the vehicle I was in, bracing myself for impact in the passenger’s seat. Having spent a year-and-a-half in college focusing on my future, I was faced with the very real possibility of it all coming to an end that slick January afternoon as a four-wheel truck slammed into my side of the car at approximately 60 mph.
Exactly why the Lord spared me I don’t know, but I’d like to think it was to give me a second chance; a second chance at getting to know Him for who He is, instead of who the culture told me He should be.
Studying journalism at a secular college, I’d had many experiences that challenged the faith I grew up with. Despite my Catholic upbringing (including 12 years of Catholic school and involvement in the church choir and youth ministry), I found the faith to be more ritual than reality by the time I was 19.
Compromise — that was the name of the game. If I wanted to work in the college’s information booth, I’d have to officiate things like a contest to win a jarful of condoms. If I wanted to be an “objective” reporter, I would have to cover the “gay pride” parade on campus. If I wanted to hang out with certain friends, I would have to tolerate their use of illegal substances, abuse of alcohol and promiscuity. “Live and let live,” as many of my classmates would say, and I bought into it, hook, line and sinker. It’s the danger a lot of college students still face today — selling ourselves out just to survive in a culture that blurs right and wrong into a frighteningly dull shade of gray.
There were so many questions I didn’t have answers to, and I didn’t know where to begin. So instead I threw all my energies into my future career — I worked hard at the newspaper and in my courses. Then came that January afternoon.
I wish I could say that I had a sudden “conversion” experience as the firefighters cut me out of the car, but, as I’ve continued to find out, God often works in much more subtle ways. While I had miraculously walked away from the accident with only a minor case of whiplash, it wasn’t until months later that I would look back and thank God for His mercy.
In March of that same year, the youth minister at my parish invited me to be an adult leader. I’m not sure why I said yes, but there was something inside me that wanted to try it. Soon after I began volunteering, we made the St. Louis de Montfort 33-day Consecration to Jesus through Mary. It was a very powerful experience as we prayed each night before the Tabernacle, and the Lord’s True Presence struck me like never before. Of course, whenever we open the door to Christ, His Mother is always close by, leading us home.
During this time, I was fortunate enough to know a very orthodox, young priest who (in addition to being very devoted to Our Lady) wasn’t afraid to speak to the issues and questions I had begun to ask in college. He also wasn’t afraid to pose some questions of his own:
Did you know that holiness and sainthood aren’t just for priests and nuns?
What does it really mean to have a relationship with Christ?
How often do you stop to think about Jesus’ True Presence in the Eucharist?
Have you ever thought about what God wants for your life?
I was spurred on to go deeper into my faith, and the Internet became a valuable tool in my search for answers. The apologetics and catechesis on several Catholic websites, including catholicexchange.com, inspired me to live the faith in a very real way. It was then — when I began to cherish the Church and Her teachings — that I realized how close I came to losing it all in that accident. It is always a reminder to me of God’s mercy.
The catechism teaches us that God’s almighty power is at its height when He freely forgives sin, when He shows mercy. In this way, when we forgive, we are most like God. While we frequently think of this in terms of forgiving others, which can be quite a challenge, it can be even harder to forgive ourselves.
When I look back at that accident all those years ago, it reminds me that I cannot dwell on my past mistakes. Instead I must move forward to make the best of that second chance (and the many other second chances He gives us through the Sacrament of Confession) so at the end of my life I will hear the words of the Lord: “Well done, good and faithful servant; enter the joy of your Master.”
