January 2, I No Longer Hate You

Is there a day that just sticks out to you as a day you just hate? Not a holiday but a day where something happened and you just can’t forget?

That’s my January 2nd. I can’t believe it, but 14 years ago I had my first bad date with the second day of the year. I was pregnant, my first. I was a PCOS patient in a high risk pregnancy. Of all the places to be going for tragedy to strike, I was on my way to the hospital for blood work. I brought my dog with me because the appointments tended to last 5 minutes and she loved car rides.

The stats say most car accidents occur within 5 miles of home. Well on January 2, I had a major car accident within a mile of my home. I went to fast forward a praise tape, my first time EVER where I had the courage to sing to God aloud, and when I looked up I felt I was too close to a bridge. I over-corrected and my mini-van flipped upside down into a ditch.

The van was less than three months old and the damage was $12,000. They would have totaled it at $15k. It was never the same. I was never the same. I was angry, even though I didn’t have a scratch on me. The baby was fine. The dog was fine. It was a miracle as far as accidents go, bowling balls flew out the back that was supposed to fly forward and hit me.

But how dare God cause an accident the very day I started to sing songs to Him out loud?

That was my thinking, and the start of my hatred for January 2.

Guess what? It didn’t stop then. On January 2, 2001, I miscarried. The miscarriage signs started December 31 during worship at church, but the ER wouldn’t confirm it. I was the first ultrasound with my doctor that year, and he felt so bad I ended up trying to encourage him. I sat in the car after the appointment and sobbed.

I made a vow that I would loathe January 2 for as long as I had breath.

It’s been over 10 years and I confess I worked hard to keep that vow. What I realized after a few years was that my anger wasn’t at the day, it was at God.

There, I said it.

I was mad at God.

I couldn’t comprehend why He’d cause an accident and a miscarriage, especially when I was on the process of praising Him during these times.

Then He showed me, in His great love, that He didn’t cause the tragedy. He allowed it.

Big difference. The allowance came not to laugh at me and mock me, but grow me in ways I’d never experience if times were good. Those were life altering events and for me not to be the same is a good thing.

In fact, January 2 was a God thing. The moment I realized that, confessed my thoughts, and asked Him to help me to see the day for what it really was, a plain ole’ January 2, that exact thing happened. The vow died, and my life moved forward.

I have a feeling someone out there knows what I’m talking about, making a vow and stewing in it. Those vows will eat you alive, I’ve been there. What’s really going on? For me, I was angry at God and afraid to address it.

How about you?

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