The mile long bridge that stretches across A1A between Duval County and Amelia Island is a simple, beautiful drive. The picturesque scene of the sun rays on the ocean makes this open stretch of road my absolute favorite ride.
But on the afternoon of May 1, 2004 this site changed forever in my mind. What had started as a beautiful, sunny Saturday, eased into an afternoon shower that suddenly turned to an angry storm. Within moments, rain slapped my face and pummeled my soaking back. As a downpour reduced the traction from my motorcycle, airstreams threatened to hurl me over the two-foot guardrail protecting from a nearly 60 foot drop.
Someone had screamed “STOP!” a distance before I committed to this course. Now I knew why.
Everything went black.
Consequently life seemed dark and void of light, as I stood deaf and blind in the months to come. I was alive but deeply shaken, every fiber within afraid. That day I lost control of my bike, but really, I lost control of many things in my life.
The crash caused a lot of permanent, physical damage. Severe head trauma left me with broken ear bones as well as holes in my eardrums and eyes. I also experienced a disorienting imbalance called vertigo for over a year. My severely wounded soul sought comfort from God as I reached the edge of what I could physically and emotionally endure.
All the while, my spiritual being experienced a different type of hurt. God had gifted me to be a musician, the only livelihood I’d ever known. As I questioned how I would continue, I considered that the loud voice pleading me to stop on that day was a cautioning of the Holy Spirit. It pained me to think I chose not to listen.
But comfort came in knowing that “He who began a good work in me would carry it on to completion.” * There was certain to be a beautiful outcome from this disaster. I had to trust God was still in control and that the deficit in my understanding would be balanced by His fierce love for me—after all He knew how this would all end.
More importantly, He would be near to me as this experience colored my faith rich with hues of His mercy.
In His mercy, much of my sight was restored after a series of surgeries. In His mercy, my hearing has been partially repaired. In His mercy, I have been able to complete this new Code of Ethics project “Lost In Egypt” with limited senses.
My journey through this trial has been filled with both joy and sorrow. Yet I know God is to be praised in all things because every moment is an opportunity of intimacy with Him.