It was the kind of summer day that every gear-head looks forward too. The August skies were clear and blue and northern pavement invited me to ride. My mission was to ride my Gold-Wing motorcycle out to a northern Michigan resort and conduct a wedding rehearsal. My plans were to return later that day and officiate the wedding.
My plans for the next year were about to change.
After the rehearsal my bike roared to life and I sped off to enjoy the day. A young girl ran a stop-sign and I T-boned her little Ford at full speed. I hit the door post of the car and flew through the wind-shield of my motorcycle.
As I lay on the road-side, I examined my broken state. I did not know it but I had 18 broken bones, including a compound brake of the right hand, broken pelvis and crushed left leg. Both my lungs and bladder were ruptured. All I knew was that I was panting for air and was certain that this was my last moments on earth.
I prayed a prayer that I thought would be my last spoken words in this life, “Dear God take care of my family.” Then I waited for death to overtake me.
God had different plans. A volunteer fireman had watched the accident and drove up to my bruised and bleeding body. His skills went into motion. My bleeding was stopped by his gentle hands. He bagged me and I was able to get gulps of life-saving air. He called an emergency helicopter and I was rescued from certain death.
There was intensive care; six surgeries; three and half months in a hospital bed; wheelchairs; physical and occupational therapy; pain, tears and joy. After a year I took my first steps after the accident.
About the time that I started walking, I was in a tire store getting a new set of rubber for my Jeep. At that season in my recovery I still walked with the help of a walker. It was very oblivious to any observer that something very painful had happened to me. There was one other customer in the store and she asked the question that I had heard many times, “What happened to you?”
I told her that I had parked my ride in a painful way in August. The she asked, “Where?” I told her my near-death story. Then she began to gush with excitement. She explained that her best friend’s husband was the volunteer fireman that was both the witness and first responder to the accident. Then she said a chilling comment, “He thinks you are dead, you ought to call him.”
The lady opened her purse and wrote down a phone number to my rescuer. This unusual conversation led to a very unusual conversation. I was the not so dead man who was thanking his rescuer for the gift of life and for each new day.
How do thank someone for such a gift?
The joys and experiences of life that I have experienced these years have all been a gift from someone who was ready to rescue a stranger who was completely helpless and doomed.
This was not the first time that I have been rescued! Colossians 1:13 states “for he has rescued us from the dominion of darkness and brought us into the kingdom of the Son he loves”
At another time in my life I was riding alone and far from God. I needed to be rescued from my own sinful self-centered ways. I was doomed to eternal death. Jesus was the one who meet me at the road-side and rescued me from certain eternal death in hell.
I prayed a simple prayer of faith that went like this; “Dear God, Forgive me, I’m a sinner. I place my faith in you to be my Lord and Savior. Amen.”
I invite you to join this eternally rescued biker and put your faith in Jesus Christ. Jesus’ sacrifice on the cross was the means for my access to eternal life and hope, peace and purpose in this life.