Tragedy and defeat; love and opportunity. Neglect and lethargy; profit and peace. All of these experiences, diverse as they may seem, have common ties holding them together. We’ve all experienced each of these in varying degrees. God allows such extremes in our lives to help us grow in character, to bring us closer to him, and to enable us to stare in awe at his wisdom. My story is but one example.

My opportunity to serve came with a sudden impulse that grew out of my faith. I never really considered becoming a teacher until I was at my second college. I woke up one morning in my mass-produced, dorm room bunk bed, and decided to transfer to Martin Luther College. Events up until that day, as well as the training I’m getting at Martin Luther College now, have all been fundamental in my growth. I have grown closer to the Redeemer of humankind, and I have also grown as his ordinary, plain, and lowly servant.

A ride home after the game

One event that has had a monumental effect on my life and my perspective was a car accident when I was 14 years old. It left me paralyzed. It started simply. Catching a ride home after a Friday night high school football game, I was buckled up in the backseat of a friend’s car. My friend’s dad was driving, and he swerved to avoid hitting a car that was stalled in our lane. We went off the road and hit a tree. My back proved no match for the impact. It was broken into two pieces. My spine was completely severed, leaving only my skin to hold me together.

Pain engulfed my entire body, I fell unconscious.

I remember hearing the propellers of a helicopter as I was taken to the emergency room. I remember a light being shined into my eyes and somebody’s fingers taking out my contacts. I remember the overwhelming pain as paramedics lifted me from the gurney.
Waking up in the Intensive Care Unit, I was forced to acknowledge the fact that I was a freshman in high school who was paralyzed. This couldn’t be real.

Reality is hard to swallow

But real it was, and reality proved hard to swallow. After three weeks of intensive care, I was sent to another hospital for rehab. My life was a mixture of white hospital walls, solitude, and lessons on how to do things like go to the bathroom or get into bed. I returned home after three painful months.