We have policies in place to protect the interests of copyright holders and corporations, but misfortune is paraded about like some morbid trophy.
I’d like to believe we are better than that. Perhaps one day it will become the new normal.
I was inspired to write about my own miracles. The indisputably tangible evidence of God’s hand upon my life…
Circa 1975: As a toddler, my mother said that I was rambunctious and curious about everything. My mother would tell me later that I was a very active child and she could often tell what I was doing by the amount of noise I was making. Well, one day while playing in the house in another room, I all of a sudden fell silent. When my mother looked over at me she saw me convulsing violently on the floor. This was the beginning of my battle with idiopathic epilepsy. A battle that included multiple daily doses of penicillin and blood tests at least 3 times a week. A battle that was frightening and complex, being told that I could die. A battle I would continue to fight until the age of nine when, after telling my parents that he was tired of seeing me suffer these frequent grand mal seizures, the pastor of our church took me to his home for a few days saying he was going to God in order to finally put an end to this. I honestly do not remember what he did. Because of my seizures, I don’t remember much before the age of 9. But I can tell you what God did. I was taken off medication and never had another seizure after that day.
God: 1 The Devil: 0
September 1984: My father owned an old blue Ford pickup truck that looked like a replica of the one driven by Fred Sanford. It didn’t have seatbelts, because apparently prior to 1975, passenger safety wasn’t a top priority. So one Sunday evening after church service was over, I followed my father and older brother out to the truck which was parked just in front of the church. As we got in, I was sandwiched between them with my hands folded across the bible on my lap. No sooner had my father turned the ignition than BAM! Some guy rear-ended us. HARD. The jolt threw my head forward and banged it against the dashboard. Back then, those trucks were built like tanks with all metal construction and none of the current plexiglass metal alloy. Damage to the truck was minimal. Thankfully, the dashboard had a padded leather covering and although my face was definitely bruised, the paramedics said it could’ve been a lot worse. Like brain damage or death…
God: 2 The Devil: 0
December 1984: One week prior to this incident, I’d been released from the hospital after having my appendix removed. I was again following my father out to the truck after choir rehearsal. This time, the truck was parked across the street. I looked both ways down the road before starting toward him. Again, seemingly out of nowhere, a car comes barreling around the corner and, yep, you guessed it… BAM!! He hit me dead on. The following details were relayed to me later… the same brother that was in the truck with me the first time, was standing on the sidewalk when this all happened. He started screaming hysterically, running back into the church. My dad runs over to me and my mom comes out to see what happened. I’m in the street. Broken. The force of the impact tossed me into the air and threw me a good 50 feet. When I hit the ground I was out cold and my brother thought I was dead. 15 minutes had passed before I regained consciousness. The paramedics were already there. I woke up crying and disoriented. I glanced at my right leg to see it bent in a place it shouldn’t bend. The bone was exposed and the pain was excruciating. This of course, is a compound fracture. I wound up back in the same hospital room I’d been released from a week ago. I would not wish this kind of pain on my worst enemy. But the pain let me know that I was still alive…
God: 3 The Devil: 0
There are many other experiences in my life I could share, but I think these illustrate my point. Sometimes it seemed as if the devil was determined to kill me. Which was strange because I never considered myself significant or special. But the facts remain. I would not be alive if not for God’s mercy and intervention.