12/26/12
12/26/12
Snow starts falling lightly in Jackson, MI as we load up our vehicle for the long drive to Charlotte, NC. Christmas was so special yesterday; our first as a married couple. We pass the small evergreen that Lane cut down for us as we walk back and forth from apartment to vehicle countless times. In the car and on the road, the snow picks up a bit.
12/26/23
12/26/23
It’s been an unusually warm few days for this time of year in Saint Johns, MI. Yesterday’s Christmas was such a nice day that we even took all three kids for a walk around our subdivision. Last night the two older kids slept under the big Christmas tree that Emily’s dad cut down with all three kids “helping” earlier this month. Lane’s caregiver helps him get out of bed, then feeds him breakfast as Emily rounds the kids up for a trip to East Lansing for breakfast with her sister at a local pancake shop.
12/26/12
12/26/12
The snow isn’t falling so lightly anymore. Here on the interstate it’s getting harder to see what’s in front of us. But Lane feels confident enough to keep driving until the storm passes. We both agree that it can’t last forever, so after a quick stop for gas and Starbucks, we’re back on the road. A pair of cinnamon dolce lattes can do wonders for a young couple’s apprehensions, however well-founded those apprehensions may be. The lines on the road aren’t visible anymore; we grow thankful for the taillights ahead of us.
12/26/23
12/26/23
Emily comes home with all three kids, some leftovers from breakfast, and a Starbucks drink for Lane, in memory of the one on the road eleven years ago. After feeding Lane his lunch — forkful after tender, routine forkful — Emily puts our youngest down for nap time while our older two revel in yesterday’s Christmas gifts. Lane writes a long overdue blog post using an eye tracker on his laptop.
12/26/12
12/26/12
The taillights we use to keep track of the road become dim blotches in the whirling snow surrounding us on all sides. Maybe we should take the next exit and see if we can wait out the worst of the storm. The exit signs are even less visible than the fading taillights ahead of us. The last view of our able-bodied marriage is a deadly white storm as our car spins into the path of the semi truck in the right lane behind us. Smash into the rear passenger door. Spin across three lanes and crunch into the concrete median wall. Slam back into the semi truck, this time with the driver’s side front door, only about a foot of material (none of it airbags) between Lane and the Mack truck’s massive grille.
12/26/23
12/26/23
“Do you know what today is, kids?” They don’t.
“Today is Life Day!”
“Life Day? Oh cool, why isn’t it on the calendar?”
“Life Day is what we call the anniversary of our accident. Eleven years ago today, only God knew if your Mommy and Daddy would be alive.”
“Oh now I see why it isn’t on the calendar” she responds with an understanding chuckle.
Our kids have never experienced life without a disabled dad and a caregiving mom. Stories of what we’ve lost and what we’ve gained are fairly commonplace in our home. Our kids hear about God’s faithfulness to us all the time, and we pray they will see Christ for themselves someday soon.
12/26/12
12/26/12
First responders have to cut us both out of our mangled car using emergency equipment. Emily wakes up with staples in the back of her head and shards of glass in her hair. Thankfully she can still walk, talk, and function normally, but her life is turned upside-down when she hears what happened. Lane wakes up a week later from an induced coma, unable to do anything but panic. As our individual lives and future plans collide with a new and harsh reality, our marriage and trust in Jehovah begin developing roots that extend ever deeper, far beyond the realm of tangible circumstances. Never before has it been more difficult than this, yet the difficulty is what draws us into His arms.
12/26/23
12/26/23
This has not been a roller coaster ride. Roller coasters start at the highest point and, though they introduce myriad twists, turns, corkscrews and loops, the whole ride is powered by the momentum from that first apex. These past eleven years have had countless twists, turns, corkscrews, loops and all the rest, but we started in a deep valley rather than a momentum-creating peak. In the days, months, weeks and years that have followed, we’ve experienced exhilarating highs and crippling lows, but our heavenly Father is drawing us ever higher and ever closer to His glorious face. Because of our magnificent King Jesus, we victoriously assert that, whether in this life or the next, the best is yet to come.
What is yet to come for you? At the end of your life, whether tomorrow or fifty years from now, what will you stand to gain or to lose?
Mark 8:36
What good is it for someone to gain the whole world, yet forfeit their soul?
