Through current news reports the world has learned that rock group 3 Doors Down lead singer, Brad Arnold, has been diagnosed with stage four kidney cancer.  Arnold has been vocal about his Christian faith in recent days and for years about his sobriety from alcohol addiction. The singer is now taking time off the road to address his cancer crisis.

If you’re an individual who believes in praying to the God who is the Creator of this vast universe, it would be a good time to add the famous singer to your prayer list. If you want to join in praying, how about using the hashtag #prayforBradArnold to encourage him that there are folks who care.

I’ve been concerned about Arnold, because one of his band’s famous songs, “It’s Not My Time” supported me emotionally when I was recovering from a serious auto accident two decades ago. Back then, “It wasn’t your time,” was what Nate, the body shop technician said matter-of-factly surveying my husband’s wrecked vehicle. Then he began wrapping the totaled auto with clear plastic, while I dutifully gathered my personal possessions.

Just days before, the black sedan’s pristine finish glistened in the sunshine. Now, what was left of it was a reminder of how blessed I had been to survive.

“It wasn’t your time,” was Nate’s simple theology.

His statement reminded me of something German theologian Dietrich Bonhoeffer once wrote in his Letters and Papers from Prison, “We all have our appointed hour of death, and it will always find us wherever we go. And we must be ready for it.”

Bonhoeffer was a Lutheran pastor who refused to sit idly by as Adolph Hitler killed millions of Jewish citizens during World War II. Instead the German leader joined a movement to have Hitler assassinated, resulting in his 1943 imprisonment. Bonhoeffer’s own appointed hour of death occurred in 1945, when at only 39 years of age he was hanged at the Flossenburg concentration camp. 

Anyway, I’m not comparing my car accident to the slain scholar’s situation, because I felt blessed to be alive that afternoon as I said good-bye to the wrecked vehicle. After all, a few days earlier while driving in heavy four-lane traffic I glanced in my rear-view mirror and saw a car rapidly approaching. My frantic mind quickly realized that there was nothing I could do. Suddenly, I heard the sickening sound of crunching metal and felt the forceful impact that propelled me forward quite a distance.

Miraculously, there was no vehicle directly ahead, nor had I been pushed into an adjoining lane. Momentarily dazed, I gratefully assessed that my injuries were non-life-threatening, although they would require a trip to the hospital. The young man whose vehicle’s front end had connected with my demolished back end assured me that he was ok, too. “We can always get a new car, but we can’t replace precious people,” was the philosophy I inherited from my late mother.

Thankfully, I knew my husband agreed with my practical view of totaled automobiles, since I just “happened” to borrow his car that day. Providentially, Larry’s vehicle “was” proven to prevent injuries in crash tests. It lived up to its promise, even though it resembled a folded accordion after the wreck.

There were several other remarkable occurrences surrounding the event. When dressing the morning of the accident, my treasured angel pin, a gift from late Jewish Holocaust survivor, Elisabeth Sondheimer, seemed to sparkle warningly as it fell to my bedroom floor. 

I also placed an antique picture of Jesus standing behind a sailor who is navigating a ship’s wooden wheel behind the driver’s seat that day. The portrait depicts the Jewish carpenter with one hand lovingly resting on the young seamen’s shoulder and the other arm extended, pointing him in the direction he needs to go amidst the turbulent seas.

My plan was to drop the inspirational artwork off at a friend’s office, since he was encountering some rough seas. When cleaning the car out at the body shop, I found the glass and wooden framed picture undamaged just as Nate was sharing his wise advice about it not being my time.

The borrowed car, the angel pin, and the antique picture are all reminders of my own belief that God is always in control, even when life seems randomly chaotic. However, my greatest blessing was the fact that apparently it wasn’t my “appointed hour of death” as Bonhoeffer once wrote. Because someday, death “will find me,” just as it finds us all, since nobody gets out of here alive. 

And death can be cruelly unfair. I was reminded of this heartbreaking reality a mere ten days ago. My own family lost a beloved member in the prime of her life after she fought a long and courageous battle. Due to privacy, I won’t share any details. But I will say, I’m sure those who love her would have willingly given up some years of their own time if they could have. But it doesn’t work like that, only God has the power to control time.    

For all the folks remaining on this Earth, perhaps some will appreciate the wisdom in the song lyrics of the former 2008 hit, It’s Not My Time by 3 Doors Down.  As the lead singer, Brad Arnold, not only sang this song, but he’s one of the band’s members who wrote it. 

The lyrics say, “My friend, this life we live is not what we have, it’s what we believe. And it’s not my time. I’m not going ….” Hopefully, you and I, along with Brad Arnold, are not going anywhere, anytime soon.  For now, we’ve all been granted the priceless opportunity for one more day with those we love.

Christina Ryan Claypool is an inspirational speaker, frequent Chicken Soup for the Soul book contributor, and author of the inspiring book club read, “Secrets of the Pastor’s Wife: A Novel”. Learn more at her website: www.christinaryanclaypool.com