Healed from Guilt After Tragic Car Accident

In June 1989, one week before my youngest daughter's first birthday, our family was in a tragic car accident. We were on vacation in New Mexico to visit our relatives and attend my brother's wedding. My first husband, Wes, and I lived in Alexandria, Louisiana, where he was stationed in the U.S. Air Force. It had been at least a year since we had seen our relatives, so there was much to catch up on.

There was also so much to do to get ready for the wedding after a very long drive. The drive took about twenty-one hours with the speed limit of the day, and we were traveling with three children under five, Charlotte, Laura, and LeeAnn. But we joyfully started helping with the wedding reception preparations as soon as we arrived. Whether it was wedding fun or just catching up with loved ones, there was not much rest. We averaged about five hours of sleep each night.

The sun was setting all too soon as we said our goodbyes and headed back to Louisiana. Our plan was to drive all night so most of the trip would be while the little ones were asleep.  Heading east on I-40, my job was simply to drive as long as I could then wake up Wes. He would drive most of the way back to Alexandria. Our oldest daughter, Charlotte, was riding up front with me in our Toyota van. Wes and Laura were lying in the back, and our youngest was in her car seat. Laura asked for a sip of my root beer and settled in to sleep.

It didn't take long for my eyes to get really heavy after everyone else fell asleep. Mile after mile, it was a constant struggle for me to stay awake. I cranked up the music as loud as I could without stirring anyone but to no avail. Suddenly, I found myself waking up as the van was driving through the rough median. I woke up screaming, "We’re wrecking!" Suddenly and quickly, the van went from rough riding to spinning and rolling. Charlotte and I were screaming as we found ourselves in the ditch on the opposite side of the interstate.

I checked Charlotte for injuries, and there seemed to be none at the time. We unbuckled ourselves and went to find the rest of the family. Shockingly, there was no one at all in the backseat when we landed, including almost one-year-old LeeAnn, who had been buckled in her car seat. She was the first one we found. She was sitting up on the edge of the blacktop crying. There was a lot of blood coming from a couple of glass cuts on her head. My mother-in-law, Bev, was an emergency medical technician (EMT), and she had taught the family what to do if ever there was a wreck. I did what she had taught us both for Charlotte and LeeAnn. When I had completely checked and cleared LeeAnn for major injuries, I picked her up. Charlotte was by my side helping.

By that time, a trucker was approaching the scene. He stopped, jumped out of his truck, and said that he had radioed for help.

"The police and ambulance are on the way!" he said.

His headlights lit up the scene, and together we saw what happened to Wes and Laura. They were both lying in a large puddle of their own blood. It seemed like Laura was dead, but Wes was breathing weirdly. I knew that touching them in any way would only harm them. The scene populated fast. I guarded the two on the ground like a momma bear. Well meaning, untrained people can hurt those in such a vulnerable state. The trucker helped me as I had explained all that I knew. He put his grey hoodie on Charlotte and insisted we sit in his truck. Though I objected because of all the blood we had on us, his persistence won. I knew Charlotte needed to not look at the tragic scene, and LeeAnn needed to warm up.

The police and ambulance arrived rather quickly. Questions were asked, and statements were given. Not long after that, we loaded the two ambulances. Wes and Laura in one, and Charlotte, LeeAnn, myself, and two officers boarded the second. The girls were checked again for injuries by the EMT. When we arrived at the hospital, our ambulance was locked while the first ambulance unloaded. So Charlotte would not hear, the officers quietly explained to me that if I cooperated, they would not have to handcuff me.

It was at that moment, the probability of the death of Wes and Laura and my guilt laid heavily upon me. I reassured the highway patrolmen they would have my full cooperation. The girls were taken away. Drug and alcohol tests were given to me. When the results came back clear, the girls were returned, and I was released from police custody.

Hard decisions followed, which all began with someone in a white coat holding a clipboard, paper, and pen. Laura did not look well, and despite all the efforts of the doctors and nurses, she grew worse not better. Though heart-wrenching, the first decision to make was obvious, signing to remove life support from Laura. We stood around her and watched her go. The next clipboard contained permission pages to donate Wes’ organs and tissues if he were to pass away.

On our first date, Wes pulled out his wallet and showed me the place where he signed to be an organ donor, so most of those pages were easy. Then the hardest clipboard day of all came four days after the wreck when it was time to unplug the life-support equipment on my husband. We stood as a family and watched my strong husband fade.

My family was great. They helped through the whole process and supported me in every decision. We all drove back to my home town together. There was a funeral, and more details and decisions were finalized. The biggest decision at that point was where the girls and I would live and what would I do. Though it was difficult to leave the support of my family in New Mexico, I knew I had to go back to Alexandria, Louisiana, to the church we were attending there. I knew my answer was in God.

It’s hard to put into words how completely and utterly devastated I was. I was a young woman who relied heavily on my husband, and I was a bit of a controller. Okay, I really controlled everything. My husband couldn’t leave my sight without my permission. I hated when he had to be gone from my side. I needed him so badly, and I relied on him in every way.

It was devastating that night on the interstate to see him in the condition he was in—so mutilated. The strong man that I leaned on didn’t look the same, and the condition of my little Laura was devastating. Everything was so horribly devastating.

How hard it was to walk away and know what to do. I was a baby Christian. We went to church, but I really didn’t know a lot. So, I went back to my church. I knew to do that. I knew I needed God. I grew up Catholic—not that being Catholic is bad. I love the Catholic church. My family is Catholic, and I love them. There’s a lot of people full of faith and God in the Catholic Church, but for me that was not what I needed. I knew I needed the Full Gospel Church we had started attending, and I knew I needed the Word of God.

I went back there with the girls. I was praying, and I was serious about hearing from God. You really can hear from God and know that you know that you know what He says. I knew whatever He said was what I was going to do.

I prayed and asked God, “What do I do now?” He spoke to me often during that time. It’s not spooky because God promises in His Word that He’s close to the brokenhearted. He spoke to me very clearly and said, “I want you to get up in the morning. I want you to praise Me. I want you to pray—pray for others and pray in the Spirit. And read the Word.”

So, I did. I got up in the morning, and I started to worship God. It was really a revelation. It was a new thing to worship God in my own house. I thought the reason for worship in church was so people who were running late had a chance to get there. I didn’t know there was any purpose other than that. In church we would sing songs and lift our hands to worship God because He is worthy. But I didn’t realize anyone worshipped God in their own house. How awkward, I thought. But I did it. I started singing and worshipping God in my home just like God had told me.

During that time, I was absolutely amazed I actually had the fortitude to put one foot in front of the other. I felt like an empty shell. I would get up in the morning and do what God put in my heart for that day. When God gives you a word, He gives you a knowing or practical how-tos to get done what He’s instructed you to do. He just kind of deposits them in your spirit. So, I would get up in the morning ready to do what He said.

It was hard to get up at 4:45 a.m. when you spent until 2 a.m. crying and feeling sorry for yourself. I called that time period “Years with Tears in My Ears.” When you cry a lot standing up or sitting up, tears roll down your face. But if you cry a lot lying down, the tears all roll to your ears. I cried so much I had to put Q-tips in my ears to keep them from getting plugged up with water. Every night I would cry and feel sorry for myself until I fell asleep. But then I’d get up in the morning and start worshipping God. The more I grew in God, the less I felt sorry for myself.

At one point, I remembered a preacher who said something that really helped me. She said, “Never feel sorry for yourself. Never!” She experienced almost the same thing as I had, and she said, “Self-pity is nothing more than putting yourself in a pit.” She had learned that she couldn’t do anything if she was feeling sorry for herself. And that’s the truth—you cannot. When you’re feeling sorry for yourself, you’re welcoming the devil to pile it on.

Eventually, I did stop feeling sorry for myself, but it’s hard to do. In fact, you must make a firm decision not to feel sorry for yourself. As I got up in the morning and start worshipping God, I was tired. I was mad. I was sad. I was devastated. I wondered why. And my mind was filled with questions and thoughts like: Why did this happen? How could this happen? We were tithers. We were givers. We worked in the children’s church. We loved each other. Why? Why? Why? I would be so mad at God. Then I knew I shouldn’t be mad at God, so I would apologize. All this was going on while I was singing. I was really just singing through my teeth. I would sing, “I worship You, Almighty God” with gritted teeth. “There is none like You” with gritted teeth. “Thank God for Your mercy” with gritted teeth. I was being obedient just not so willing. I was a brand-new Christian.

Wes and I had been going to church for about a year at that time, and the things I learned at church helped me. Just going to church helped me. I knew that I knew that I knew that God was worthy to be praised. I knew He was worthy. I knew He was a good God, and the devil was bad. I knew that all good and perfect things came from the Father above

Yet I would wonder why these terrible things happened to me, and it took me a while to get it. When you’re going to church, you may not think you’re really getting anything. You think, I have problems. I have this. I have that. Why go to church? I need a counselor. I need this. I need that. But God’s Word is amazing. It helps you whether you know it’s helping you or not.

Back then, when we were first married, it was hard for us to go to church. We were a young couple with young kids and getting ready to go to church wasn’t easy. There were all kinds of fights just getting out the door. You had to find shoes for the kids, and about the time you found one pair, you would lose another pair. We were tempted to think, Why even go? But, thank God, we went anyway. Looking back, let me tell you, it’s important to go to church. Just put the kids in the car and forget the shoes. If you’re going to fight, fight. Just get there!

During my recovery, I would get up in the morning and worship God while all these thoughts, feelings, and emotions were going through my head. I knew in my spirit that I just had to hang in there and stick with it. That’s part of the knowing the Holy Ghost gives you to help you. I knew to just stay with it. I knew that to sing a couple of songs or read a couple of verses and walk away was not enough. I knew to stay with Him. So, I just kept singing and kept singing.

Day after day this continued. Eventually, I would get to the place where I would stop the whole gamut of, Why? Why? Why? with all the emotions and feelings of devastation. I would think, I know this situation is awful. I know it hurts. It hurts so much I can’t foresee ever feeling good again—ever. But even though my whole life is a mess and parts are missing, God is worthy to be praised. God is so worthy to be praised. At that point, I would worship God with my whole being—my spirit, my mouth, my mind. I would say, “I worship You, Almighty God. There is none like You.” If you’re born again, your spirit is always ready to worship God.

As time passed, God healed me completely, but it’s just so precious when I share my testimony. I relive that depth of that place where I was nothing. I had no joy—zero joy. But God would flood me with His presence as I would worship him with my heart, my mouth, and my mind. God would flood me with His joy. He would flood me with His peace. God would flood me with His life.

As I continued day after day and refused to quit and give up, God began to do a miracle in me, and I didn’t feel like an empty shell anymore. I would get full of the Holy Ghost and ready to go. I would read the Word, and every day it was so good. It was just for me. I loved it. I would write down scriptures and thoughts on a 3x5 card and keep it throughout the day. It would really help me because it’s hard not to feel sorry for yourself. The devil doesn’t play fair. He doesn’t say, “Oh, you look like you’re really suffering right now. You’ve gone through a lot. I’ll come back later.”

The devil is just the opposite of Jesus. Jesus says, “He will not crush the weakest reed or put out a flickering candle…” (Matthew 12:20 NLT). God’s there to fan your flame and to heal the reed. God’s there to strengthen, but the devil is there to cause as much hurt, harm, and agony as possible. The devil was there every second of my day to bombard me with thoughts of guilt: It was your fault! It was your fault! It was your fault! I could never get away from that. I hated myself so much. I knew it was my fault. I had a ten-page report from the Texas Rangers showing me how guilty I was. Yes, it was my fault, and I couldn’t even look at myself in the mirror I hated myself so badly.

I had to overcome not only the sadness and the guilt but “the why.” One day God helped me and said, “Carol, you just need to put why on the shelf.” Every time I asked God why, it was worse than the last. Eventually, I had to put why on the shelf. And you can too.

I didn’t use antidepressants to get over the great loss, pain, and guilt. God healed me! That’s not to say antidepressants are completely wrong, but God can help you. The medicines can ease symptoms, but only God can heal your broken heart.

God helped me with the guilt, the sorrow, and the sadness. I was a new Christian, and I didn’t know all these things. I didn’t know there was a “sacrifice of praise” until God led me to praise. I worshipped God with all my heart, my mind, and my mouth whether I was mowing the lawn, cooking dinner, paying bills, or whatever.I worshipped God.

And I had to do something else to get over the guilt that haunted me. I had to take the Word of God and extinguish every thought.2 Corinthians 10:4-5For the weapons of our warfare are not carnal but mighty in God for pulling down strongholds,  casting down arguments and every high thing that exalts itself against the knowledge of God, bringing every thought into captivity to the obedience of Christ.

I had to find something in the Bible to help me because I was guilty. The wreck was my fault. But, praise God, I found the help I needed in God’s Word.

Isaiah 53:4-5 (AMPC)Surely He has borne our griefs (sicknesses, weaknesses, and distresses) and carried our sorrows and pains [of punishment], yet we [ignorantly] considered Him stricken, smitten, and afflicted by God [as if with leprosy].  But He was wounded for our transgressions, He was bruised for our guilt and iniquities; the chastisement [needful to obtain] peace and well-being for us was upon Him, and with the stripes [that wounded] Him we are healed and made whole.”

I saw it right there in the Word. “He [Jesus] was wounded for our transgressions and He bore our guilt and iniquities.” Jesus carried our guilt. He bore my guilt!

Colossians 1:22 says:…in the body of His flesh through death, to present you holy, and blameless, and above reproach in His sight….Colossians says that He’s made us holy and blameless and above reproach. He made me holy, blameless, praise God!

Ephesians 1:4 says almost the same thing:… just as He chose us in Him before the foundation of the world, that we should be holy and without blame before Him in love.”

These scriptures were my ammunition, and there were whole entire days and weeks I spent fighting my thoughts. I had to make sure to think the Word because if I thought three other thoughts in a row, I was overcome with guilt. I would sink to places where I was so deeply depressed, I would lock myself in a dark room with a knife at my throat.

I won’t go into too many details on that topic because it isn’t edifying to hear, but clearly, I just didn’t want to live. Now, listen to me! You don’t have to think those thoughts. You don’t have to think every thought that comes into your mind.

What’s so amazing about those really dark days when I was in the closet is most of the time, they were Saturdays. I called them “the Saturday devils” that tormented me. I would end up in the closet almost every Saturday. The thing is, our church had prayer on Saturday night. All day I would feel sorry for myself in that dark closet, but at five o’clock Saturday I knew I had to go to prayer. And I did. Everything would be better after that.

You can choose your thoughts. You can help what you think!

Think about the demoniac of Gadara. He had an entire legion of devils harassing him. But when he chose to go to Jesus, not one of the devils—or all of them together—could stop him.

You can choose what you think just as I could choose what I would think. I chose the Word of God. The Word was far greater than my circumstance. I thought on the Word, and it healed me. It made me completely whole.

When you break your arm or leg, you go to the hospital. They bind you up and send you home. But when you go to God with a broken heart, the Doctor goes home with you. I fell in love with the Doctor. I fell in love with Jesus. I fell in love with God. He’s so very good.

I’ve heard about a lot of women and men who go through tragedy and struggle as I did. They ask, “Why did this happen?” or “Why did this person do this or that to me?” I’ve heard divorced people say, “Look what my former spouse has done and is doing to me.” These people are angry, hurt, and bitter. But being angry, hurt, and bitter doesn’t change anything.

What do you do?

You go to God!

No matter what feelings are crushing you or what thoughts are bombarding your mind, you can go to God. Then you can grow up in Him by feeding on His Word. The more we get in God, the more we have a fighting spirit and a spirit of joy. God is so good, and He will make you completely whole.

I remember feeling like I lived with a constant pain in the pit of my stomach for a little more than two years. There’s no automatic one-year, two-year, three-year, four-year timing to overcome regrets or depression or a broken heart. But if you stay with it, complete healing and total deliverance will surely come. God gives you His Word on it!

For me, it was about two and a half years after the tragedy that there was no more pain. It was gone. I got to enjoy God and enjoy life again.

There are two more scriptures I want to share with you that really helped me:

Deuteronomy 29:29“The secret things belong to the Lord our God, but those things which are revealed belong to us and to our children forever, that we may do all the words of this law.

This scripture helped me put “the why” on the shelf. Like it or not, why and how some things happen is God’s business—not ours.Here’s another scripture that helped me on those many Saturdays I spent in the closet:

Psalm 27:13“I would have lost heart, unless I had believed that I would see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living.”

This scripture helped me because it promised me that I would see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. In other words, things would get better here on earth, not just get better in heaven someday.

If you’re suffering like I was, you can ask Jesus right now to heal your broken heart and set you free—free from sadness, depression, loneliness, addiction, and regrets of the past. Ask Him to show you the supernatural power of God.

Jesus will put your broken heart back together again. He will put your life together. He will give you joy, love, and vision. He will make you fruitful and empower you to make a positive impact on your world. The gospel will do things in your life that will make a difference—not just for you but for everyone around you. That was the invitation God gave in Psalms when He said, “Taste and see that the Lord is good.”

Jesus is saying to you, “Just give Me a chance!”

Some people will go to every doctor in town. They will try every expert opinion they can find, but I dare you to give Jesus a chance. Let Jesus work on your problem. He’ll set you free from your past just like He set me free from mine.