5 Years and Counting

Sailing The Bay

Over five years. A long time in many ways but also short in other ways looking back. When one of our pastors preached on Matthew 25:35-40, something hit me. I’d heard sermons on this for years, but this time it was like eureka, perhaps because five years had recently rolled around since the accident. Before now, I never saw myself as the one Christ pointed to as being needy.

“For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me      something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison, and you came to visit me.’ 

“Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’

“The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’

Collectively, family, neighbors, friends, and colleagues fit the description of ‘seeing you hungry and feeding you, … thirsty and giving you something to drink, … needing clothes and clothing you, … sick and going to visit you?’ My Lord will reply to these precious people, ‘Truly, whatever you did for this sister of mine, you did for me.’

I know that it hasn’t been easy. Our children literally dropped everything to come and support my husband and me – adjusted job responsibilities, studying, and long-awaited vacation; taught me to believe in myself as an N of one; dropped to their knees and prayed for me from across the world; encouraged me; came or texted to visit; answered medical questions; found encouraging research; sent flowers; prayed; … You and our sisters realized I had few casual clothes that were appropriate for using a wheelchair and several magically materialized. It goes on and on.

A couple close friends met Alan at the airport, brought him to the trauma hospital, and provided crucial support. One neighbor drove my visiting sister to the local hospital and then again to the trauma hospital. One couple insisted on Alan using their car. Our family repositioned cars and ensured that we had safe transportation between hospitals, rehab, and home. You created, designed, repurposed, built, and/or reorganized to make our home and lives more accessible.

Some of you visited in the rehab hospital. Some visited at our home. Some helped clean. Some made a quilt or prayer shawl. A friend mobilized meals to be brought in; many made food but then also came and ate with us. You talked about normal life, which is what we desperately needed. You’ve encouraged. You’ve sent cards, emails, texts, and phone calls. Relatives and friends in multiple states and around the world voted for us in the Local Hero (NMEDA) accessible vehicle contest. You, and your friends who we don’t even know, voted for Van Gogh for us! You prayed for us both as we healed, transitioned, and worked to develop a life that is as normal as possible.

Some of you knew me before the accident and prayed hard for both of us. Some brought cheery flowers. There are others with whom we had sailed. We had built wonderful memories of our sailing years in The Bay. In those years, we ate together, drank together, sailed together, laughed together, explored together, endured storms together, celebrated holidays together, and just had fun. After the accident, you did not disappear from our lives.

There are many, who we hadn’t even met before the accident, who have accepted me for who I am, not how I move about. You helped me feel so normal that I often forget the wheelchair when we’re together. You’ve encouraged and accepted me as is.

Some reading this only know me through this blog. You readers are from 50 countries including all continents except Antarctica. That is humbling. I often wonder why you read this. Some might because you also have a Spinal Cord Injury (SCI). Some have loved ones or acquaintances with SCI and are looking for techniques, tips, break-through research, answers to questions, or coping strategies. Others are curious. It is those especially who are learning about living with SCI and how life has impacted us greatly. I trust you are more sensitive, particularly when it comes to parking, steps, curb cutouts, and a lack of entitlement. Some learned to watch for your blessings, and in doing so, remind us to watch for ours.

Life isn’t the same – never will be – and my family, especially, carries more responsibility than they should have to. I trust they and friends will never forget how I love them and appreciate what they do. More than that, Jesus notices and says that doing it for me is like doing it for HIM. Wow! What a gift. A blessing.

A Story of Grace

I was asked to speak at our FL church for a stewardship moment. It is at the very beginning of the service immediately after the announcements. If it doesn’t come up, it was Nov. 27 ~ click the “watch” button.

http://www.moorings-presby.org/archive-services.html#

For a second time, my testimonial was called “A Story of Grace” by others. It is.

We all receive blessing. Shalom, Collene

A Story of God’s Grace

A Story of God’s Grace

Stories make truth come alive. The larger context is The Best News Ever. As part of that, I was interviewed about my story, focusing on the last 1.5 years since the accident. My story was entitled – not by me but appropriately – A Story of God’s Grace. The interview follows:

• Collene, you were in education all your life. Where and in what capacity?
  1. I started teaching kindergarten and remedial reading in Hudsonville in a joint position between the public and Chr. schools.
  2. We moved to Lansing and …
     1. I taught first at Lansing Chr. in primary grades and reading support.
     2. When our children were born, I taught a variety of classes, part time at Lansing Community College, teaching adults to read.

• When the boys were in school full time, I began at Waverly Community Schools focusing on K-12 reading support and became the curriculum director.

1. When we moved to Harrisburg, PA, I became the Asst. Supt. and ultimately the Superintendent in the Palmyra Area School District.

• What happened that put you in a wheelchair?
  We had just retired mid summer of 2013 and begun to sail The Chesapeake Bay and to travel. We moved our belongings to Holland in November. On March 19, 2014 I was hit by another car in Florida. I broke about a dozen bones from my scull to my left fibula, had 2 collapsed lungs, required 7 units of blood, and was on life support, but most severe was the spinal cord injury at T-6. I’m paralyzed from the chest down.
• Such a major change, how do you handle it?
  1. First, I don’t want to minimize how difficult this is. Everything I do from the time I get up until I go to bed, including how I sleep is different and more difficult. That said, from the day of the accident, the word miraculously spread and many, many people were praying for me. A girlhood friend got the word out to our graduating class from Unity Chr. HS. The accident happened on a Wednesday and Alan’s sister is in the choir here. They began praying. Prayer groups I didn’t even know about meeting that Wednesday in Palmyra prayed for me. An order of Nuns in Lansing was praying for me. Of course, we also had our family and their friends from across the country and world praying. Our daughter-in-law began a CarePage which had over 900 followers. I firmly believe that the prayers are why I am alive, why I don’t have brain damage despite having had a closed head injury, why I have my arms and hands, and why we can deal with this. It is a 180* turn but not the end of the road.
  2. We have seen God Moments throughout this journey.
     1. One of my nurses in intensive care in FL had Jeremiah 29:11 tattooed across her lower arm. That became my special text. “For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”
     2. Our two sons and daughter-in-law came when I was in intensive care, along with my sister and Alan. Our children are all in the area of science and they reminded me from Day 1 that “I am an N of one.” “N” stands for a critical number in research and science. If 5% of people can improve with this injury, I can (and will) be that one of those 5/100. I am an N of one.
     3. A very special physical therapist was placed in my life at Mary Free Bed. Marium was raised Muslim but is now an amazing Christian. She was there to say the things I needed to hear on difficult days. One day she climbed onto the therapy table with me, grabbed my hand, and said, “There is a difference between fact and truth. The fact is that right now you have a spinal cord injury and cannot move below the T-6. The truth is that God can and does perform miracles and I believe He can do a miracle in your life.” Over the next couple days she shared miracles she had seen in her own life. We keep praying for that miracle which could be in the form of medical breakthroughs.

1. During our years in Lansing, we kept our sailboat at Anchorage Marina. We first heard about Christ Memorial from our friends Ron & Sherrie. We attended Christ Memorial several times each year when we were out here. The preaching always spoke to us and was true to the word. The music was excellent. When we moved to Holland in retirement, this is where we wanted to join. Before we were even members, Bill Boersma met with Alan after my accident. He then began to meet with both of us and we appreciated him so much. Quality music is important to us so we’ve always belonged to churches with beautiful music. The thing about Christ Memorial is how naturally and beautifully the music blends with the sermon and the liturgy. It is seamless.
2. My SCI happened to me but it really happened to my family and friends as well. Each one of their lives has changed, especially Alan and our children. Family and friends support us with prayer and in countless ways. We are given grace to make it through one day at a time. I am an N of one. Glory be to God.

To hear the entire context as well as the interview in my own words, click below. You won’t want to miss the message by Dr. Bill Brownson, former voice of Words of Hope radio. At about 88 years old, he speaks without a note in front of him.

http://www.christmemorial.org/weekly-info-watch-service/best-news-ever