My Mother loved Subarus. She owned a few in her lifetime, but I only remember one. We called it Mother's "white Subaru". I have a strange but true story involving that vehicle, which is why I remember it so well.
On April 25, 1997, when I was 24, Mother asked me to drive to Morrilton from Mountainburg to do something for her. She suggested that I take her "white subaru" since the mission was hers.
Before I left that evening, I remember stepping in to Mother's bathroom to brush my very long hair. While standing in front of the mirror, the Holy Spirit told me that I was going to be in a car accident that evening, but that I would be okay. Hmmmm, I thought, or maybe I should just stay home? No. He said go. Strange, I agree. This is my story and happened almost 27 years ago, and I still find it strange.
It wasn't until I lost control of Mother's white Subaru on the now-wet-from-rain Interstate 40, that I remembered what the Holy Spirit had told me, so instead of feeling afraid, I felt a strange peace, even as I was being thrown around in circles, into the median, and back on to the Interstate, over and over.
I remember thinking, "Don't hit your brakes." But who knows what I did, reactively, as it all happened so suddenly. The last time I headed into the median, something told me to bear down on my brakes with all I had, and I did. Finally, it was over. The moment I came to a complete stop on the grassy ground, an 18 wheeler barreled by and Mother's white Subaru shook in it's wake. Dennis Jernigan was singing from the cassette player, and I sat still, in awe and wonder at what had just happened. I well remember the whoosh of the semi truck and the feeling that washed over me, knowing that mere seconds made the difference in my being safe in the median, stopped and still, rather than being flung again onto the Interstate and directly into his path. And what about the seconds or minutes before? I was protected from more than I know. I have always wondered which one of Dennis Jernigan's songs was playing, but I just don't remember.
I noticed a vehicle pulled over on the right side of the Interstate, with flashers on, and I got out to assure them I was alright. It was a young couple, and they invited me to sit with them while we waited for the police. They told me it was their wedding anniversary, I think their first. I felt awful for being an interruption to their anniversary evening, and told them to go on, but they said they were glad I was okay and insisted they stay with me while I waited for help.
I remember the police officer who showed up was noticeably kind and I remember he asked me if I had been drinking. My answer was, "Yes, buttermilk." I had a quart of my favorite buttermilk on the floorboard of the passenger's side. He drove me to the next exit, where I met my family at Waffle House on Arkansas Avenue in Russellville. I have no idea how they knew I was there, but somehow I was taken care of, and the newly totaled white Subaru was recovered as well.
When I got back to Hot Springs, a doctor friend looked me over and suggested I take some muscle relaxers, which I did. I had no physical pain or injuries from the accident. The only thing I did have was recurring dreams where I was spun and tossed around and around in different scenarios. This happened continuously for at least a month. When I mentioned these dreams to a friend, she said, "well, that stops right here right now," and she prayed over me. The spinning and tossing dreams never showed up again.
141 days after Mother's white subaru was totaled, and 2 days after Mother's 53rd birthday, I arrived in Jerusalem, Israel, where I would live for the next 40 weeks with 3 new friends I had yet to meet, one from Nottingham, England, one from Houston, Texas, and my roommate, from somewhere in Florida. I was a student of the newly formed School of Worship in Jerusalem.
Jerusalem, Israel, while I lived there (97/98) was a sea of white Subarus! I have never before or since witnessed such a large number of the same color and make of a vehicle in one geographical location. It was almost unbelievable. All those white Subarus in Jerusalem were a constant reminder of the strange foretelling and safe accident that I had experienced, and increased my amazement and wonder at what it all meant.
