There was a moment today when all I could see was the gigantic truck bumper in front of me that I knew I was going to hit.
I almost broke my "9 years without an accident I caused" streak this afternoon, thanks to a combination of rain on the road, wet brakes, a second of not paying attention and a giant truck stopped on what is basically a freeway offramp. For about two seconds I pushed my brakes, steered fruitlessly through the puddles and watched as that bumper got closer and closer. I knew I was going to hit that vehicle.
Then, I didn't.
I don't really know how many inches I was from that ginormous bumper (I am a magnet for tank-like vehicles with trailer hitches that are like bayonets to small cars), but it was very, very few. In a matter of five seconds I slammed on my brakes, skidded toward it, stopped just short of it and the other driver, I assume realizing you're not supposed to stop in the road to debate making a right turn, drove away. The car behind me slowed in the normal fashion in which I should have engaged; everyone else either stopped or drove around me. Androg settled down and kept going.
I think I learned in that moment, for the first time in my religion-filled life, what asking in perfect faith, believing I'm going to get the answer I need, feels like. I've gotten answers to prayers before, but there's always doubt; skepticism comes naturally to me. But today, when I almost hit the car, I'd just left the LDS temple, and I was on my way to visit a woman who was just baptized into my ward. Basically, this time period was the most righteous I could basically ever be on a normal Saturday. I could actually ask (in my heart; no words made it in those seconds, and if they had, it would have sounded like a whale dying) knowing I had every right to ask for the blessing of not hitting that needlessly large truck. This is how the brother of Jared must have felt on that mountain with his rocks -- not afraid, not worried, but confident because he'd done what God asked him to do, and when you're doing that, no matter how imperfectly you're doing it, God answers.
So thanks, guardian angel who threw yourself in front of my bumper. Thanks for all the other times too. You know what I'm talking about.