White Crosses And A Broken Heart

We had a trip this week to the west side of northern Montana and on our way back I drove for a few hours. As I was driving I started to see white crosses on the sides of the road. At 181 miles left to go on Hwy 2 (in my portion of the drive) I started to count the white crosses. I hit 10, then 20, then 35, and 40. My heart was starting to break. See each of these crosses represents a highway fatality. I kept driving and seeing more and more crosses. Counting 50, 60, 70. I would see groups of two and three and even seven. It got to the point where all you saw were these white crosses on a red stake. I would pray to not see another, but with each intersection, bridge, curve there would be more. by the time I counted number 88 I was in tears. I had only been driving for 142 miles and yet there were 88 white crosses, fatalities. I stopped to take a picture and decided I needed to share what has been on my heart.

This is 88

My heart was so broken as I drove my 181 mile stretch of Hwy 2. I kept thinking that these are someones mom or dad or brother or sister, best friend or enemy. All the small things seem so minor in the scheme of things like this. I felt so much pain for the families and friends of these loved ones that were lost on the road. So I beg of you with tear filled eyes to be careful out there especially with going into this Holiday season. These 100s of white crosses are in Northern Montana where the population of deer might be higher than people are a heart breaking reminder to be careful.

But what breaks my heart more than anything is the thought of how many of these white crosses were followers of Christ. I would  love to think they all were, but I know that would be wrong. It is such a chilling reminder of the importance of sharing Christ's love with others. He died on a cross so we can live in his light and love. Tomorrow is never a guarantee.