|I woke up lying on the pavement and noticed the neighbor lady was walking down the sidewalk. What happened? I was unable to sit up or even move. My mind slowly began to clear, and my eyes focused. That was when I realized what happened. I was riding my bicycle home from school and hit a car. After a few minutes, I was able to stand and walk the short distance to my home, collapsing soon after into convulsions. Little did I know how this was about to change my life.|
The doctors sent me to a hospital one hundred miles from my home. A severe head injury would keep me from returning to the fifth grade. I needed a spinal tap to relieve the pressure and pain in my head. The third attempt finally worked. I also needed more testing. Two nurses were putting me on an elevator for testing when I had a seizure and fell off of the bed. I was diagnosed with another concussion and had to postpone the tests for another day. I was moved into a ward with nine other peers. They were all terminal cases, and many passed away before I would leave the hospital.
One night I wasn't able to sleep. I kept wondering what the future would hold. The damage was permanent, and there was little hope. I didn't even know anyone within one hundred-mile radius from the hospital. While these things were going through my mind, I heard a voice coming from the dark. When I looked up, someone was standing near me and assuring me that everything will be okay. It was like the person was reading my mind? I felt my body strengthen, and the pain left. I rang the buzzer for the nurse. She came in quickly and asked me what I needed. “Who was the nurse that was just here,” I asked. Her reply, “There hasn't been anyone in the room tonight except for me.” Today, I'm convinced it was an angel unaware.
I spent the next six years trying to recover at home. Convulsions were a way of life. I believed in God; in fact, it was his fault I was in this mess. There was this fear each time I had a convulsion, that I would wake up in a place called Hell. When I was twelve, I was told I would never be able to work. "Terminal" had already been crossed out of my dictionary, so I wasn't impressed with the diagnosis.
I was invited to a special church service one evening. I was comfortable until I opened the program. His sermon title was “To Hell And Back.” After the sermon, he gave an altar call. They say the sweat on your hands is the strongest glue in the world, bonding you to the pew and keeping one from going forward. It wasn't working that night. I could not get upfront fast enough. I was still only fifteen years old, but I knew it was time. I gave my life to Christ that evening and never looked back. He took a load off of my shoulders. About fifteen years later, He chose to heal my injury totally. First, He needed to teach me things you can only learn by going through it. Looking back on the accident, I consider it the best thing that happened to me. I doubt I would know the Lord today if He didn't set me down so I would realize I needed to better myself. Today, "I can do all things through Him who strengthens me." Philippians 4: 13.