Wednesday, March 21, 2012

Losing Touch With Reality

Benjamin saw the swaying truck a few seconds late. He rammed on the brakes of his Subaru. The swish-swash of the windshield wipers seemed to slow their wiping off of the large drops of the rain. Benjamin exerted more force on the brakes. The car could not stop in time.
The truck kept coming. It was only ten feet away now. Its driver had lost control of it.
The rain continued to pour down in large torrents.
Benjamin swerved to the left to prevent a head-on collision. His actions were mechanical, his mind gripped with fear.
He slammed on the brakes one more time and the Subaru skidded on the rain-slicked tarmac.
The honking of the truck's horn deafened Benjamin. The truck was now five feet away.
Benjamin panicked.
The Subaru stopped, facing the left side of the road. Benjamin could now see the truck from his side window. Its headlights blinded him.
The truck was four feet away.
Benjamin fumbled with his seatbelt.
Three feet.
"God!" he shouted. His seatbelt was stuck.
Two feet.
He yanked his seatbelt free.
Too late.
A gut-wrenching scream erupted from his throat as the truck collided with the Subaru. The last thing Benjamin heard was the crunching of bones and the crushing of metal.

The man woke up to the glare of lights and machines and computer consoles around him. Tubes protruded from his body. Wherever he was, he didn’t know. And now, thinking about it, he didn’t know who he was.
There was a sharp pain in his head. He touched it and felt the bandage wrapped around his head.
He really didn’t know who he was.
A face appeared in his line of vision. A beautiful woman.
“Hello dear,” she said.
Whatever! He didn’t care. What he wanted to do now was to get up and find out who he was — really was — and why he was here.
“Benjamin, dear,” said the beautiful woman, “are you ok?”
Couldn’t she see that there was no way he could be fine? And was that his name?
Yes, that must be his name.

Have you ever had moments when you really wondered who you really are, why in the world you do what you do, or where you are going? Is your life like a fatal accident that sometimes leaves you a hopeless amnesiac?
You are not alone. There are very many people just like you, who function like normal human beings, go to work or school, eat and sleep, but think like they are amnesiacs. All of them have this one similarity: they have lost touch with reality.

 (exerpt from my upcoming book, What If God Doesn't Really Love You)

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