12:31 p.m. Caller: There is a woman unconscious.
12:31 p.m. 9-1-1: Ok, what’s the address?
12:32 p.m. Caller: Silver Diner. Tysons Corner.
12:32 p.m. 9-1-1: Does anyone know the address?
12:32 p.m. Caller: Yea. Um. (Inaudible). Yea, this woman… she’s dead.
I arrived promptly at 11:34 a.m. for my 11:45 a.m. business breakfast. Excitement oozed out of every pore as I walked through the entry doors. The good-spirited waitress escorted me to a window-side booth just left of the entrance. However, she abruptly changed course and seated me in a booth across the aisle approximately six feet away.
Sitting facing the wall of windows, I silently grumbled about feeling boxed-in by the solid, half wall on my right. Yet, I gave thanks that I could still enjoy the view of patrons coming and going. My associate arrived, and we sprinted to share our entrepreneurial triumphs over laughs, soft scrambled eggs, smiles, turkey chili, and you-go-girl giggles.
Those giggles morphed into a babel of screams when a man intentionally rammed his Hummer into the diner entrance and the patrons rushing out to help him. The repetition of his actions crushed the thought of perhaps he had a seizure and lost control. While attempting to call 9-1-1, all remaining hope was seared when I watched the driver set himself and the Hummer on fire.
The morass of sudden, bright, orange flames teleported me back to my grandmother’s hallway where my six-year-old self watched in awe as fire leapt into existence behind the ceramic grates of the 1960’s gas heater with a guttural whoooump. That subconscious whoooump yanked me back into the conscious reality. This was not a warm and fuzzy situation. It was time to go.
I raced out of the building, to my car, and out of the parking lot. Eventually, I made my way home. My mind raced with the myriad could-haves. The waitress could have seated me at that first booth where he hit the building. The driver could have turned slightly to the left and drove directly into our booth. I could have been killed. That is the moment I heard my attempted 9-1-1 call playing out very differently.
Caller: Yea. Um. (Inaudible). Yea, this woman… she’s dead.
Then, I just started praising and thanking God for what did happen. He protected me. He shielded me. He boxed me in. He forewarned me during my commute to the diner:
“Do it now. Do not delay. Do not hesitate. Just do it. Go.”
At that time, I thought it more of a pep talk to not regret following His lead to resign in March, start my business, and reject three viable job offers. In part, He was. He was also referring to this incident. However, mostly, God was urging me to continue surrendering to His will and His way without pausing and trying to make sense of His future directives.
He simply commands:
“Follow me… Let the dead bury their own dead, but you go and proclaim the kingdom of God… No one who puts a hand to the plow and looks back is fit for service in the kingdom of God (Luke 9:57-62, NIV).”
Has a reliance upon rationalization rendered you spiritually unconscious?
Is your greatness going up in flames because you are leaning on your own understanding?
Is a hesitance to follow God’s lead killing your miracles?
Following the voice of God will cost you in the choice of how you spend your free will. Choose Life.