Just imagine the scene: it’s a frigid winter’s night in New York City. You’ve just left an event where you’ve met a famous author. You’re feeling exhilarated and happy; maybe they’ll even give you an autograph. You hop in a cab to head home. Suddenly…BOOM! You’re in a horrific car accident. You’re trapped, bleeding, and unable to move.

You’re going to die.

You think to yourself, “This is it.” Life as you know it is over. You might as well let go and prepare to meet your maker. But then you hear a voice. “Help me! Help me!” It’s an unusual voice; rough, compelling, yet disheartening. It’s not a man’s voice. It’s a woman’s.

You look up and see a face shrouded in shadows. You can’t make out her features, but you know that it’s not Katherine Kellaway Robinson you’re looking at. It’s a woman you’ve never met, whose acquaintance you’ve only recently made. A complete stranger. Yet you recognize her as your savior, the person who is going to get you out of this hellish situation.

A Divine Intervention

What do you do? You help the woman in the car. You apply first aid to her wounds. She’s injured her left arm and her right leg. The car’s on its side, blocking the road. The air bag has deployed, so you can’t help her out of the car. You don’t have straps or a harness to tie her down. Plus…

…she’s a person of faith. You’re not exactly sure what type, but she’s wearing a necklace with a crucifix on it, and a small statue of the Virgin Mary in her jacket pocket. So, to save her life, you guess it’s a divine intervention. Yes, God had a hand in this particular rescue. Maybe it was Saint Christopher or Jesus. Or Mary. You don’t know.

A Miraculous Recovery

Once the woman is safe and sound, you sit with her in a coffee shop across from her apartment building. She’s hyperventilating, terrified and in great pain. Thank god you arrived when you did, she tells you. She didn’t know whether to call for help or just stay in the car. Thanks to you, she didn’t have to make that decision. You’d like to think that there was something more than luck and coincidence at play here, but…

…you’re not quite sure. She seems perfectly normal, healthy, and happy. You ask her about the accident, how she’s doing. She doesn’t seem to remember much of anything. The next day she wakes up and slowly begins to piece together what happened. She can’t believe how she survived. It seems like an impossible miracle.

A Reason to Live

After she recovers, you have her transferred to a hospital where doctors can monitor her and her prognosis can be assessed. While she’s still in the hospital, you take the opportunity to get to know her a little better. You discover that she’s an independent woman, full of life and boundlessly optimistic. She encourages you to keep your faith and not give up. It’s a miracle, she tells you. An impossible miracle. You tell her you’re not sure and that you hope she’s right. You want to believe, but you can’t help but feel it was somehow just a matter of luck, that she’s still fighting for her life. She sees that you’re struggling and decides to teach you a little bit about faith. She encourages you to find the good in every situation. Even when you feel like things can’t get any worse, she says, they can. There’s always hope. A fragile hope, but still…

…she believes in miracles. You tell her that you do too, and that it’s something to believe in. It gives you a reason to live.

A New Kind of Faith

You pray for her and she recovers. Over time she begins to see the good in every situation. Even when things go wrong, she finds the silver lining. She begins to rely on her faith more and more, as you did. While she still goes to church, she finds that their sermons don’t seem as relevant as they used to. She begins to question the meaning of life, the purpose of God. She wonders if the accident was a punishment for her own arrogance and that of her unbelief. You tell her that you don’t think that it was, that you believe it was a miracle. You want to encourage her to keep on believing, even if the doctors don’t. You tell her that miracles are possible and that your life is proof of that. Every day is a miracle, you tell her. Something she’ll agree with.

An Unforgettable Night

You eventually decide it’s best for both of you that she doesn’t have to stay in the hospital. You bring her home, where she can continue her recovery. One day she’s going to be back on her feet and able to walk again, just like before the accident. You remind her that this was no ordinary accident and that she should be grateful to be alive. You pray for her, as you always do, but this time you ask for a little more. You ask for healing and mercy, just for that unforgettable night. You tell her that you love her.

…she hears you and smiles. You ask if she remembers what happened. She nods. You ask if she trusts you. She nods again. You ask if she loves you. She tells you that she does. You ask if she’ll marry you. She laughs and says, “I’d better! What else is there to do?”

You’re both happily married, raising families, and still going to church. She thanks you for what you did and tells you that you’re a gift to her, that she wouldn’t have made it through that night without you. You tell her it’s your faith that saved her life and that of her family. You tell her that you hope she has more adventures like that one. You ask if she’s ever thought about doing anything risky, about going anywhere or seeing anything dangerous. She shakes her head, no. You ask her what keeps her alive each day. She tells you that she has faith and that when she loses that, she loses everything. You tell her that she has you. That you’ll always have her back.

You pray for each other and for all those who need help, that they may find peace and that their faith may grow. You pray for those who don’t have faith, that they may be saved and that their lives may be meaningful. You pray for those who have lost their faith, that they may find it again and that they may be healed. You pray for all those who are hurting, that they may feel comfort in knowing there is a God and that he hears their prayers. You pray for those who don’t know how to pray, that they may find the comfort of faith. You pray for those who don’t believe that there is any God, that they may find the comfort of trusting in something greater than themselves…in each other.

…something better.