5 Hidden Crosses

Tis the month for anniversaries, I guess. And today I talk about another one. Do you remember this story of mistaken identity? Even if you're not from the middle of Indiana, you probably heard about it; it was plastered on the national news for quite a while.

Today is the anniversary of the accident.

I think about that accident every single day, because the people in that van were riding the exact path I take when I come home from work.

WBCL sits on the campus Taylor once operated in Fort Wayne. The van was traveling down the same interstate I drive. And the accident happened within view of the exit I take every night.

I couldn't find it online to show you, but somewhere in the media coverage, I saw a picture of the accident scene, and in the not too distant background was the brightly lit sign for the gas prices at the truck stop...and McDonald's. Every night when I round the bend and that sign comes into view, I think of the accident and how life stopped entirely for five...and changed forever for many more.

And then I look for the crosses. There were five white crosses placed near the fence along the road and I used to see them easily from behind the wheel. Either they've been taken down or they're overgrown by weeds, because I can't find them now. And I've searched. And still look every day.

Why?

Because while I knew no one in that accident, the story had a profound impact on my life. I read the book Mistaken Identity in one day flat and I soaked up every TV interview the families gave...with Matt Lauer...with Oprah...all of them. And in every interview, I saw nothing but amazing grace and unabashed peace. I've known Jesus personally since I was six and I was still blown away by the way He radiated from them in those interviews.

You think I have drama? They had drama. Drama beyond drama. And yet they never moved their focus off the Lord. They went through all the hurt and stages of grief. They weren't super-people. They didn't get to avoid all that. But in all that, they offered prayers of trust and thanks and praise.

Astounding.

I don't know that I could have had that much spiritual poise. But I do know I learned from it and I don't want to forget it.

So I look for the crosses. I see the lights of the sign...I look for the crosses...and I realize that path is no more guaranteed for me than it was for the Taylor van that night.

But if that kind of adversity comes my way, I hope someone else would see a girl as focused on God as those families were.