What have I become?

I was born in 1965 into, some ways, a pretty typical non Christian American family with the exception of a close family member's alcoholism. We worked hard, I attended school, I graduated and worked as an ironworker and welder until, at 22, I joined the US Navy in 1986 and served in Norfolk Virginia with the engineering department on a navy warship. I didn’t follow in my family member's footsteps of alcoholism and wasn’t the wildest single guy in the navy, but I was certainly a person with worldly values. After all, I liked my life. I did what I wanted, was seeing the world and thought I was basically a good person.in my own opinion.

Time went by and I was happy. Then, on May 20, 1988 I was serving a night watch in the engine room and was training another petty officer for the night. Eventually we went to have some coffee about 3am, when he asked a random question out of the blue, "Would you like to follow Jesus Christ and make Him the Lord of your life?" 

Completely caught off guard. I was direct, but polite, "No."  Why would I want to do that? I liked my life and didn't need any "guilt clubs." The thing I didn't know was how significant that 3am conversation would be.

Two days later, I was involved in a horrible accident and wound up landing on a vehicle over 80 feet away. The paramedics were quickly called but when they got there, I had no heart beat and was not breathing. My neck was obviously broken. (reports) 

So, they went to work, successfully restarting my heart and my breathing using machines by the time we arrived. In the emergency room, of Virginia Beach General Hospital. They assessed my condition. They determined I had a concussion as well as 2 shattered vertebrae in my neck, leaving me paralyzed from the neck down. I also had a lacerated heart and crushed organs including my lungs, spleen, kidneys, liver and pancreas. Other broken bones included a broken pelvis, ribs, shoulder blade and numerous other smaller fractures and lacerations.

They rushed me into surgery and 3 doctors worked at the same time to try and stabilize my condition; repairing or removing organs, setting my neck with weights and a chain, performing a tracheostomy so I could breath with life support as well as various other major procedures.. I survived long enough to be placed in Intensive care in critical condition.

Over the next week, things continued to get worse. My lungs were continually filling with fluid and whenever they would empty them my heart would stop, and I would have to be resuscitated. The terror of having that happen when you can't move or speak cannot be put into words so I will not even try. I was aware I was probably going to die though and my mind was a blur on what had even happened, so I was scared. I had lost all control of my life and it quickly became a nightmare.

Finally, it had happened 2 times in an evening and showed no signs of stopping. The Dr. prepared my family, who were now there, for the obvious; that I would not survive a 3rd time and it would happen soon. The chaplain came and they gathered around my bedside.

As they waited, evidently something else was happening. A small, routine prayer group was meeting at a Methodist church in my hometown of Shawnee, OK. I was on their list. I know this because I received a “prayer gram” in the mail stating the date and time they prayed for me. I still have it. The date and time matches exactly the time that my family was waiting for me to die. (I have my medical records also)

My medical records indicate that about 10 minutes after the doctors gave my family the news and that prayer group prayed for me, I went from being on my deathbed to awake and wanting to sit up to eat something, although that was not possible because I was immobilized. But I had no more cardiac arrests.

But even with this improvement in my condition I still had big hurdles in front of me. My other organs were a mess, I had developed an infection problem and I was paralyzed from the neck down. Doctors told my family I would be that way for the rest of my life. But during the next few months, as my other issues began to slowly improve, I noticed I began to move 1 finger, just a little. I knew nothing about God, but I took it as a sign that he was going to help me. But, no one else shared that optimism....(photo 6 months after accident)

END PART 1