There is a God

This testimony took place in February, a little over 12 years ago.  I was 7 months pregnant at the time.

The phone rang.  It was 6:15 and I was still sleeping.  I ignored it.  Then it rang again.  Groggily I answered it.  It was Joey on the other end, “Ashley’s been shot.  I think she’s dead.  All the windows are shot out.”  Then silence for a moment.  “I’m calling you from the ambulance phone. I have to go to the police station.  I’ll call you when I need you to come pick me up.”  Click.  What!? 

My brain was still slowly waking up, trying to put the pieces together.  I knew Joey had gone in early to the gym that morning.  Ashley was part owner of that gym and would arrive early to open up.  Was this a mass shooting inside the gym?  What windows was he talking about?  What had my husband just witnessed?  I plopped my sore, pregnant body into the bath tub and began to pray.  My prayer was, “God, whatever he’s just witnessed, give him peace.  Protect his mind.  No flashbacks, no nightmares.”

It was hours before he called me again.  I drove down to the New Holland Police Station, hands shaking on the wheel.  When I got there they directed me to Joey.  There he was, sitting on a chair, a bible in his hand.  He was pretty scratched up and his shirt was bloodied, but he wasn’t hurt.  In fact, he looked calmer than I felt.  He told me later that he had been somewhat in shock until he arrived at the police station and asked for a bible.  The minute he began to read it, a peace washed over him. 

After a little while, we drove home together.  It was then that I got the whole story.  That Monday morning Joey had off work.  He wasn’t sure if he was going to head into the gym at his normal early time, but after a quiet time that day felt like he was supposed to.  He arrived at the gym that morning like he did several times a week, turned up his music and waited for Ashley to arrive and open up.  Minutes later he heard what sounded like paintball shots then a scream.  The windows to his car began to shatter.  He ducked (which due to Joey’s excess muscles looks more like a slump and a head tilt).  When the shots stopped for a moment he looked up in his rearview mirror only to see a man with a shot gun in his hand moving from the back of his car towards the front.  More shots, more shattered glass.  He grabbed his keys and quickly threw them into the ignition thinking either he was either going to get out of there or hit the man on the side of the car.  As soon as he began to reverse the man ran, hopped into a van and drove away.

Joey got out of the car, joined another member of the gym next to Ashley, who was now laying in front of his car, and prayed.  A minute later the ambulance and police arrived.  The EMT’s explained that Ashley had died instantly.  There was nothing Joey or the other gym members could have done for her.

Later that day we went back to the police station where I got to see Joey’s car for the first time.    They estimated that approximately 15 bullets went through the car.  There were bullet holes everywhere – through the ceiling, headrests, dashboard, and every window but one.  Joey’s dad took one look at the car and said, “Son, there is a God.” 

It wasn’t until that night, when I laid my tired body down next to his that it fully sunk in.  Joey should have died.  I should have been a pregnant widow, alone in that bed, our 4 year old asleep in the next room.  It hit like a ton of bricks. 

Joey never had nightmares or flashbacks.  Instead, he was able to pray with most of the gym members who happened to be there that morning and struggled with what they had seen.  He knew that God had directed him to be there that morning so that he could be someone for others to lean on during such a difficult time.  He was there to be a light in the darkness. 

One month later I delivered a beautiful baby girl.  Joey was there to hold my hand and kiss his new daughter.  Two days later we drove her home in our bullet ridden car, which my Aunt Lydia appropriately named the “God Mobile.”  I don’t know why God protected my Joey while others have had to walk the path of loss, but I am forever grateful.  “For the Lord is good.  His unfailing love continues forever, and His faithfulness continues to each generation.”  Psalm 100:5 (NLT).