One year ago today, my son was nearly killed when a car pulled out in front of him while he was riding his motorcycle. Unconscious and suffering from severe, multiple injuries, Bob would remain in a coma for almost 3 weeks and would degrade so significantly while in a level 2 trauma center that he would need to be emergency air-lifted to a level 1 center in order to receive advanced lung treatments.

In the midst of this, the lead surgeon dealing with Bob’s multiple broken bones, closed head trauma and internal injuries took me aside after performing half a dozen surgeries on Bob within 10 days and told me that I had best prepare my ex-wife for the reality that Bob was likely not going to make it. His lungs had been so badly damaged that his ability to uptake oxygen had been compromised badly and the reality of severe brain damage was ever-present.  The surgeon thought that Bob would never regain consciousness and told me that after a few days to allow my ex-wife to come to terms with the reality of the situation, they would take him off the machines keeping him alive.

My daughter flew in to be with her brother. Six months pregnant with her first child, I worried about what this was going to do to her.  The airport was almost an hour away, and as I waited for my daughter to arrive, my ex-wife called me, frantic that Bob had taken a turn for the worse.  As I drove back to the hospital with my daughter, I was struggling with so many things, my daughter, my son, my ex-wife, how can this be happening?  Would my son be gone before we got back to his bedside?  It was a day I could barely handle.

On Sunday, my ex-wife, my daughter and I went to church. Bob was still in a coma and we were all fogged in with our own emotions, struggling to put one foot in front of the other, but as I left that service and went into the parking lot, the air seemed cleaner, the sun not as hot, and the day clearer.  It was a turning point.

Bob’s struggles were far from over, but he survived and he worked at recovering for those long, long weeks in the hospital and then in the rehabilitation center, enduring tremendous pain in order to coax his limbs to bend and work once again. He had to relearn walking, getting out of bed, getting into and out of a car, transferring from a wheel chair etc. all had to be done while enduring the tremendous pain of healing bones.

God Almighty intervened and saved my son from certain death.  Thankfully, the one-year anniversary falls on a Sunday and I thanked God, in his sanctuary, for giving us back what we feared we had lost.  I love you Bob.  I can only imagine what plans the Lord has for you.




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