Sunday, August 25, 2013

I didn't die.


One year ago today I got on a motorbike in Thailand for a ride that came close to killing me.
Shortly after crashing head first into a metal pole, my unconscious body was taken to the nearest hospital. 
Unequiped to take care of a head injury, the hospital put me in a room with about 10 other patients.
My brain was swollen and bleeding, with blood coming out my nose, I was vomiting on myself, my skull was fractured in several places, my front two teeth knocked out, one which went through my bottom lip, and I was placed on life support.
The missionaries I was serving with came to the hospital and took care of me, turning my head to the side when I vomited so I didn't choke, and pleading with the staff to release me to a larger and better hospital.
The doctors refused to sign to release me because they didn't want to be held accountable for my death if I didn't make it through the 8-hour journey to the larger hospital.
One of the missionaries, whom I had known for 3 days, took responsiblity for my life and signed for me to be released, in an effort to save my life.
I was taken to Bangkok and placed in Bumrungrad Hospital's ICU.
My pastor, who was getting ready to fly back home, cancelled his flight, called his wife, and drove to the hospital to sit by my unconscious body and pray.
My parents booked a flight to Thailand.
People all over the world began to pray.
Jehovah listened.

After sleeping for 5 days, I woke up.
I knew who I was, I recognized my parents, I could read and write, I still had a brain that fully functioned.
I continued recovering very quickly and after 17 days in the hospital, I was breathing on my own, eating on my own,  walking on my own, and recovered enough to be released from the hospital.
I flew back to America with my parents and within a couple months, I was fully recovered, not even having headaches.

Today could very easily be a day of great grief for my loved ones.
   But its not.
August 25 isn't the day that my parents remember the accident that took their youngest daughter's life.
August 25 is the day that my parents remember the way God rescued their youngest daughter's life.
It's the day I remember how God proved Himself faithful,
proved Hmself stronger than the devil,
proved Himself a healer.
Sometimes you're walking along, serving Jesus, and hardship the size of a mountain finds its way right into the center of your path.
Sometimes that hardship is dark and strong and very real.
That mountainous hardship wasn't designed in Heaven, it was designed in hell.
Darkness hates light, so darkness does whatever it can to destroy light.
I'm telling you, I'm telling you, I'm telling you, there is One whose Light is strong enough to defeat the darkest of darkness.

Today, August 25, I am back in Thailand.
This morning was spent in a living room church with my heroes who rode with me in ambulances, held my head as I vomited, argued with doctors, and fought for my life.
We worshipped together, prayed together, and remembered the Love of God together.
There is a Redeemer who knows how to redeem.


I will not die; instead, I will live and proclaim what the Lord has done. 
-Psalm 118:17