September is often a nostalgic time of year. Schools are back in session. Leaves begin their change as does the weather. Football and cheerleaders…It’s events that give us those “anniversary’ markers.
And, so it is with our household. It’s this time of year we nostalgically remember our very own unique anniversary…
In the early days of September, 19 years ago, my husband – the ever conscientious homeowner – was preparing windows for winter. Poised on an 8 foot wooden ladder, tools in hand, and whistling while he worked – he shifted his weight, and in a flash, everything crumbled under him. Ladder pieces disintegrated beneath his weight, tools went flying, and my husband crashed hard on the concrete driveway. Stunned by the impact, he didn’t move – not sure if he was in pain or had the wind knocked out of him.
Pain made itself known when a neighbor arrived on the scene – assessing the seriousness of my husband’s plight, he made a joke, which my husband instinctively laughed, and then screamed in searing pain. ‘Nuff said.
Fire truck and ambulance arrived shortly, thereafter. The paramedics took little time to determine a transport to the hospital was imminent. Heavily sedated, x-rays and hours later, we learned my husband had cracked his pelvis – a six-inch break.
Surgery and twelve metal screws later, reality began to settle in – it was apparent life as we knew it was about to change. We just weren’t quite aware as to the how.
Days turned into weeks and then into months as we nursed my husband’s healing from hospital bed and therapy, to wheelchair, and then to very small steps without crutches by Christmas.
The roller-coaster of emotions weighed heavily and often. We’d be on ‘highs’ through the treasured moments of encouragement. We’d plummet with discouragement when setbacks sent my husband back to the hospital on two more occasions. Each day taught us the importance of baby steps. The process gave us renewed focus. Early on, we gathered together and prayed as a family for the Father’s care and provision through this crisis. We experienced a constant peace, we learned strength even when we wavered with worries and setbacks.
Before the accident, we lived life confidently – putting our trust in the Provider, the Master Physician, the Comforter – or, so we thought. During these long weeks of recovery we discovered faith at a new level.
These and other questions gave us pause when everything seemed to spiral out of our control. What we thought was my husband’s crisis – became a launch for renewed Hope.
Our Provider supplied us with food through unexpected means. Monthly bills were always paid – and on time. And it would be three months before my husband would be up and walking – with help – with attempts at returning to work part time.
And in those months, he had much time to think – to pray – to trust…and then…take another leap…this one intentionally.
“Would you support me if I stepped out on my own and opened my own business?” he asked me one day.
Of course I would!
And, so, my husband’s CPA practice opened for business not long after – which is another chapter – but let me just say…
“Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen…”
“In hope he [Abraham] believed against hope….he grew strong in his faith as he gave glory to God…”
Have you experienced a giant leap? Please share with us in the comments.