My brush with death

Last night was most certainly the closest I've ever come to dying.  As I was walking under a covered walkway at the airport, a runaway shuttle accelerated and took out one of the poles about 10 feet behind me.  The pole flew into a man and he went still to the ground with his blood soaking the pavement.   The whole experience was so surreal like something that could only happen in a movie. 

I remember hearing a story about the Value Jet flight that went down in '96.  A man was running after the plane and just missed it; hours later he was left to ponder his new lease on life.  Now my experience wasn't quite so cut and dry, but I can now empathize a little bit more with what he must have been going through.  It is events like this that make you contemplate your position in life.  Some will say that God was watching after me.  Now, that very well could be the case, but it seems a bit hollow when another man may have lost his life.

I turned on the news last night in hopes of hearing something of the outcome.  I scoured online news sources in search of some account of the incident, but nary a word.  I did however stumble come across a few other equally as tragic events and was left with a reality where things like this are almost blasѐ.  Nevertheless, I will be left with two images from the night: one of the man lying on the ground and the other of the driver frantically pacing.

I don't know what this means for me -- probably not a whole lot for the immediate future.  It is a reminder of the frailty of life and how quickly it can be taken from us.  I have been embarrassed by some of my emotions and pensive about others.  I am going to refrain from making any pronouncements about God's role in this.  I do however want to use this as a marker in my life that will keep me grounded and pointed in the right direction -- now if i could only figure out which way that was...