One Year

It's strange to think of, but it's only been one year since I was hit by that truck. Exactly one year ago I was sitting at Carol's house in a wheelchair looking ahead with intense trepidation to surgery and cheering myself up by figuring out how to solve the problems I could while faced with so many I couldn't. Like how to take a picture of myself including wheelchair without a camera timer and limited range of motion in all limbs or how to maneuver the wheelchair at the end of the hall to get into my room without help.

I look back on that time with a smile in my eyes because that's when the seed of faith that had been planted and sprouted that spring took some real root and grew. It's when I learned a little piece of another world and  started fighting to learn the lessons that I otherwise would have had a worse time learning.

Just yesterday, I asked a few people for help without them prompting me. You see, one thing that was a major battle for me (Carol and Dad as my main witnesses) was needing help and asking for it. I never wanted to be weak. And I couldn't stand the thought of actually asking for help from someone. But I had to learn...again...and again and again how to do that. Now, a year later, I can say that humility is really starting to internalize. The battle comes up every once in a while, but admitting weakness isn't a trial anymore.

I've found that just walking is enough cause to smile. I was asked about it the other day in between classes, what I was smiling about and I asked in turn, "Do you realize how amazing it is to have two functional legs and all the muscle and bone intact and working together? Or how wonderful that feeling is each time you switch your weight to one side or another without any crutches? It's plenty enough to smile at."

There's another lesson that has become more a part of who I am. And that's that it's very hard for me not to initially love people. I don't even want to fight them now where before I loved debating. I guess that's patience. Sure, I loved people initially before, but now the patience extends beyond that so that I love them later too.

I don't particularly advise getting hit by a truck, but it really was exactly what I needed. I've deepened as a person and in relation to God... In fact those two are really intimately connected.

              “What I believe about God is the most important thing about me.”- A.W. Tozer

 I've still got so much to learn...in fact, getting hit smacked this idea into my skull that I really am not near as wise as I'd like to think. Wisdom was realizing that you can't run as fast as you can as soon as you're allowed to. Wisdom was asking for a ride to the doctor instead of trying to wheel there. Wisdom was not being jealous of people who could walk and run. Wisdom was knowing that that wheelchair was exactly where I was meant to be at that time. 

I can now, honestly, look back with nothing short of complete gratitude for this experience. All in one year.