Life.
I’ve often heard that when someone is about to die, their whole life flashes before their eyes. Having never been in that particular predicament, it is pure conjecture to me. Here’s another; when someone is subjected to the alleged state of past life regression, why is their story often akin to having been a swashbuckling pirate, or a British nobleman, or fame and fortune had been theirs in abundance? How about something like having been born a Sudanese child, dying at the age of three from starvation and exposure? Or a teenager in the Congo who was dragged off of a bus and shot as part of the ongoing genocide in that country? Or, (gasp!), how about a regular Joe, living an unremarkable life, working in a factory, raising a family then retiring to finish his days on earth sitting on his front porch?

We have a penchant for the sensational. And a distinct disregard for the everyday mundane. We call it being *bored* with life. I beg to differ.

When Jessica was born, her airway was suctioned, then she was placed on her Mother’s abdomen while her umbilical was tied off and cut. Seeing that she appeared healthy, she was then handed to me. At that point I floated her tiny body in a tub of water which had been heated to 98.6 degrees.  As she floated, she silently stared up at me, her eyes meeting mine, then going out of focus, then meeting mine, losing focus, etc. etc. Those first few moments were remarkable – I was a Dad, I had a daughter. Lisa and I had a family. Although I was very young, inexperienced and lacked maturity in many ways, I knew that a new chapter in my life had begun.

Every Eight Years
I would enjoy detailing the events of Jessica’s life here, yet I want to make a few brief stops along the way because after she passed, I realized that a peculiar pattern had emerged. I don’t want to over-think this, nor do I wish to sensationalize – I’ll leave you to your own conclusions on all of that.

It was the day after Christmas.  My family and I lived in Southern Oregon and had traveled to Colusa in Northern California for the holidays. Driving back to Lisa’s mother’s place after having breakfast and  saying goodbye to relatives in Yuba City, a pickup truck pulled onto the highway from a side-street, crossing just in front of us. Seeing that we were going to hit the truck, I jammed on the brakes and tried to swerve. He was too close, we t-boned the truck at somewhere between 50 and 60 miles per hour.  I’d been driving, Lisa and I hit the windshield of the Volkswagen van we were traveling in. Jessica had been behind us, between the seats, talking to her mother and I. After Lisa and I hit the windshield, Jess was ejected from the van through the windshield opening, evidently hitting the ground at a high rate of speed. The van began to roll, eventually landing on it’s top. When she came to a stop, Jess got up, brushed herself off, then walked over and sat down on the median in the center of the highway.
Our little eight year old Jessica was unhurt, without a scratch. Aside from some minor tenderness in one of her ankles, she’d miraculously survived – fully intact and well. The miraculous events of that cold December day would also serve as a catalyst in cementing my budding relationship with God in Christ.

It was like most Sunday mornings around the Terry household – except Lisa was not feeling well and was staying at home. I busily got ready for church, then left early to tend to something or another at our church, 31 miles from Colusa in a town called Gridley.

Jessica was excited – our pastor’s mother had passed away some months before, and had owned an old Volkswagen Beetle that she’s bought when it was new. It was in excellent condition and we were given a very good deal on it. This would be Jessica’s first trip to church in her new car, she and her brother started off towards Gridley.

At sixteen, Jessica had only recently gotten her driver’s license and was obviously an inexperienced driver. Plus, this was a car which she was relatively new to driving. Just clearing the Colusa city limits, while taking her speed up to 55 for the half hour drive, Jessica was having trouble shifting. She looked down at the shifter for a moment, shifting her focus, and missed a turn in the roadway. She hit an oak tree dead-on. Both she and Justin’s seat belts snapped with the force of impact. Justin literally rounded the steel dashboard on the passenger side when he hit it. Jessica took the steering column in the chest, then was thrown out of the car, landing in an orchard.

When Lisa heard the siren at the volunteer fire department, she shuddered – intuiting that something was very wrong. I had already arrived at church when a policeman showed up, telling me, “Your daughter has had an accident, she is still alive, I need for you to call the hospital in Colusa in order to give the helicopter crew permission to medevac her to the trauma center in Chico.” I fell apart – the policeman had to dial the phone for me. After calling the hospital, I called Lisa. Justin was at Colusa Hospital, Jessica was en route to Enloe Medical Center in Chico, an hour’s drive from Colusa, but half the distance from Gridley. It was decided that I’d go to Enloe for Jessica, Lisa would tend to Justin at the hospital in Colusa. One of Jessica’s friends, a teenage boy named Danny, took me to Chico. Had I not been in shock, I’d have probably mentioned to him that I didn’t know Ford Maverick’s could go that fast without totally falling apart.

Justin had a torn ear and was banged up, yet had no life-threatening problems. Jessica on the other hand was much worse off than when she’d been in the accident at eight years old and had been unhurt. She had taken the steering column in the chest – it had come to within about a sixteenth of an inch from puncturing her heart. She also had multiple fractures in one arm, had lost a lot of blood through what the fire chief referred to as, “A hole in her chest that I can place my entire fist into”. After a week in the Intensive Care Unit as well as lots of rest over the next month, Jessica was back at it. Her indomitable spirit, dramatic flair, and love of sarcastic humor were back as well, and fully engaged.