The car accident took both my legs. It also melted my face beyond all recognition. My right hand, the one I write with and eat with, my precious right hand, gone as well. Sleeping pills almost took my life. My wife and children, lost that horrifying night. I was always careful. Seeing the car coming from miles away, I had no idea who was driving, or that he was drunk. In a split second, which took an eternity to develop, he veered into my lane, plowing into my vehicle head-on, and ruining my life. My parents, who were keeping all night vigils at the hospital, prayed for my recovery to be swift and painless. While all the while, I am asking God to take my life, selfishly not wanting to live like this. Thankfully, He did not listen, and when I consumed the handful of pills I acquired, He was there to keep me from committing a grave mistake. Now I reside in my parents’ home, recuperating from the physical and mental anguish I have endured.
Rolling into church in my metal prison I call wheelchair, I ask for God’s guidance in these ever-pressing times. Finally, I have found some answers and I ask God to come into my life, my heart, and take over where I cannot. Feeling my body fill with instant joy, a boulder of remorse and self-pity rapidly lifts from my shoulders and I see everything in a new light. When I return home that glorious Sunday afternoon, I am a reborn man, a humbled man, and a loving servant.
“Mom, take me over to the mirror, I want to have a look at myself.” I say as my mother, this wonderful woman who has cared for me in my darkest hours, pushes me to the reflective glass. As I peer in at myself, expecting to see the hideous beast I have come to hate, something happens. I realize I am not disfigured or scary to view, but I am now, and forever will be, beautiful.