Miracles

I saw on Facebook yesterday a page dedicated to intellectual, atheist women. I don't have a problem with their having a page. Why should I? I believe that everyone is entitled to their own beliefs. But I was offended by their insistence that any woman who considers herself "religious" is automatically giving up her freedom and equality. They also insisted that no intellectual woman could possibly be religious, and therefore all religious women must be of below-average intelligence or deluding themselves.

It was a very condescending attitude.

I consider myself equal to men. I consider myself free. I also consider myself intelligent. I'm no genius, but I do have an IQ somewhere between 130-140 (although it's been a long time since I was tested, so I don't remember the exact number). I'm definitely no dummy. But I also consider myself religious. In fact, religion is at the very center of my life. Therefore, by their explanation of "the way things are," I must be an idiot.

Never mind that their arguments as to why all religion is fraudulent were full of fallacies. For example, the very first reason they listed was "thousands of priests molesting thousands of kids." Okay, so because people have the capacity to be horrible human beings, religion is a load of crap? That's like saying all peanuts are poisonous because sometimes people die from eating peanuts. It makes no sense.

And never mind that these women were so arrogant as to believe that their way of thinking was the only correct way to think. When asked if pro-life women were welcome on their page, their response was that there's no such thing as "pro-life," it's actually "anti-choice" and it's an attack on women and their freedom and equality. As a woman who is definitely "pro-life," I thought that was ridiculous. I believe that there are better alternatives than abortion, such as adoption. I believe that every baby deserves a chance at life. For me, it's not about trampling on women's freedom. I don't go around telling people that they're evil because they might be pro-choice. I just believe differently than they do. For me, it's not about them, it's about the babies and whether or not they should have a chance to live. It's about the life. I don't call them "anti-life," so why should they be so arrogant and rude as to call me "anti-choice"?

It's not their pro-choice status that bothers me; they're welcome to their own beliefs. It's the condescension towards anyone who chooses to believe differently. But I digress.

All of that set aside, the fact of the matter is, there are a lot of things in life that can't be explained by science. Things happen that confound logic. Experiences occur that can only be considered miracles. I've had miracles in my own life. And I can see no other explanation for them than that there's a God out there looking out for me.

Granted, it probably helps that I already have a strong belief in God. I was raised in a religious family. But just because my parents believed didn't automatically mean that I would. I had to gain that testimony for myself. I spent years learning about the gospel, studying it out in my mind, and praying to know if it was true.

I am my own woman, and I came to my own conclusions. And I am 100% confident in my beliefs. So I'm sure that many would say that the miracles in my life were merely happy chance, and that I attributed them to God because of my beliefs.

They're welcome to have that opinion. But I know differently. Let me share experiences from one particular night that stands out in my mind.

I was fifteen years old, and it was just a week or two before my sixteenth birthday. My family and I had gone to Manti, Utah, to see the pageant they hold there.

It ended fairly late in the evening, and my family and I were making the long trip back to my grandmother's house in Roy. My aunt, brother, and I were in the lead car, with my parents and two youngest siblings in the car behind us. I was sitting in the front passenger seat, reading out loud from The Princess Bride to help my aunt stay awake.

My eyes were down on the page, so I didn't see what was coming.

I heard my aunt gasp, and felt her slam on the breaks. Now, normally when someone slams on the breaks, everyone's head is thrown forward. Physics, and all. But that's not what happened to me. Instead, my legs locked on the floor, and I felt myself being shoved backward, tight against my seat. I didn't move an inch.

The elk that my aunt had hit slammed into the windshield, creating a huge hole - right where my head should have been.

Miracle number one.

I missed seeing most of it. I only managed to look up as the elk was rolling off of the windshield and across the roof.

Now, typically, when something like that happens, people's eyes immediately look up to see what's coming. And how long does it take to look up? A fraction of a second. But somehow, for some reason, my eyes stayed down until after the elk had hit and was rolling away.

Later that night, we found tiny red dots all over my eyelids where glass from the windshield had hit my skin. If I had been looking up, that glass would have gone directly into my eyes, possibly causing serious damage.

Miracle number two.

We pulled off into the grass along the road. There was very limited cell service, and we were having a heck of a time trying to reach anyone.

While my parents and aunt and several good samaritans tried to get a phone call through to the police, my siblings and I sat in the undamaged car my parents had been driving. We weren't buckled or anything, of course, because we weren't moving. We were just talking, joking around, playing. My brother spent a few entertaining moments pretending to be an elk running into the car.

As we were sitting there, I looked up to see my aunt and mother running toward us, waving their arms and screaming, horror on their faces. I looked around to see what was going on, and saw a car pull up just next to us.

I found out later that the car had hit the elk's body, which was still lying in the road, and the driver had lost control. He found himself speeding off the road - on a collision course with the car where my siblings and I were sitting.

I don't know what my mom and aunt were hoping to accomplish by running over to us. As a mom now myself, I believe that my mother probably would have tried to stop the car with her bare hands. But God was looking out for us. Just before the car should have hit us, it changed direction and pulled up beside us instead.

I don't know if the driver managed to regain control at the last second or not, but I do know that there were angels protecting me and my family that night.

Miracle number three.

I mean, think about it. It's easy to dismiss one miracle as "luck" or "coincidence." But three miracles, all improbable, all occurring the same night? I don't see how logic or science can explain that.

By all logic, I should have ended up in the hospital with a head injury, possibly even brain damage. Logically, maybe I should have died that night. I certainly should have gotten glass in my eyes. Maybe, logically, I should be blind because of that night. Probably that other car should have hit us, and my siblings and I should have been injured, maybe even killed.

You know, logically.

As it was, we all walked away from that night in perfect health, aside from the scratches on my eyelids. And those healed quickly.

The only explanation for that night, for me, is that God is real and angels were watching out for me. I still don't understand why I locked my legs and was pressed back against my seat. I didn't even see what was coming. And the force pressing my body into the seat was not my own. I know for a fact that it was an angel.

Call me crazy or stupid, tell me I'm not free, insist that I'm treated as an inferior. None of that is true, but you can think that if it makes you feel better.

The fact of the matter is, I am an intelligent woman. I am married to a man who not only sees me as his equal, but as his better half. And I have the freedom to choose whatever path I wish to take.

No one chose this path for me. No one forced me to follow my religion. No one coerced me into believing in God. I made those decisions myself.

I know that God lives.

I know that Jesus Christ suffered and died for me, because He loves me.

I know that God spoke to men in biblical times, and that He still speaks to us today.

I know that revelation is continuing, and the heavens are still open.

I know that angels are real, and that they watch over and protect us.

I know that my husband and I have a marriage that was sealed in heaven as well as on earth, so that we will continue to be husband and wife even after we die.

I know that nothing else makes me as happy as my family does, and I know that God has provided the way so that I can be with my family forever.

God is good.

My name is Cassie Fifield, and I am a free, equal, intelligent, religious woman.

At the temple with my sweetheart and the Stickneys