Nobody has the ability to foresee the future, except for God. On September 10, 2012, as I kissed my fiance good-bye, I hadn’t planned on meeting him in the emergency room later that evening. In fact, I had been pulled out of my car with the jaws of life after driving through–what I was certain–a clear intersection on a green light. I couldn’t have been more wrong. My car furiously spun in circles, my airbags deployed. I don’t remember my windshield breaking, but it was shattered, along with the whole front end of my car. My seatbelt, and God, saved my life along with the paramedics. I am truly blessed to still be here today.
After about a week in the hospital, I was admitted to one of the best nursing home facilities in town. I had about ten or more broken bones, scattered throughout all four exterior limbs. Thankfully, there was not any injuries to the center of my body. I was petrified, but my Christian upbringing and positive attitude played a role in my healing. My post-traumatic stress disorder took full control of me for the next six weeks, questioning why God had put me in this situation. At the same time, God placed his hands on my wounds. He calmed my anxieties and I could hear the stillness of his voice. He carried me through the pain, while he taught me patience and acceptance of the situation.
As my post-traumatic stress disorder began to go away, God blessed me with my sense of humor I had always known. I began to make friends and make my roommate, Barb, laugh. I began to socialize and take part in some of the activities so I didn’t feel so alone. I’ll admit, being in a nursing home at 32 was not easy. I was fighting my independent spirit as I laid flat on my back day after day. I was fighting mild anxiety, part of my PTSD, that made me worry I would not be my normal self. God never left me, however, and I feel blessed to have recovered this well.
I believe time heals all wounds, and God helped heal mine. Physical wounds aside, God helped get my emotional trauma from the accident back under control. During the weeks I was in the hospital or nursing home, I prayed each night for healing and recovery. I prayed for angels to watch over me by my bedside because this was all new to me. All I could think about was my fiance, how much I loved him, and how God had blessed me with a second chance. Now, almost healed from my physical wounds, I am working on my relationship with God much harder. I owe it to him to be closer to him than I have been in the past.
We may not be able to see exactly what’s going to happen to us. God wants it that way. Only he knows the hour we will be called back into heaven. If we knew this information, it would not only change our lives but the lives of others. We might not take risks or fulfill our dreams, and this would be a loss. God wants us to trust him, and if we love him, we won’t fear when we die because he’ll be there to greet us. I’m thankful for my second chance, and I owe it to God.