1000 Paper Cranes

Despite the haunting memories that sometimes come as a result, I like telling people about my dad and what happened to him and what we went through as a family.

It was the worst thing I've ever been through, but despite what happened, it is a story of hope.  It is a story that glorifies God and shows his unimaginable grace and provision.

And since this week has been a week of tragic loss and sadness for so many in our church family, I thought I would share this story of hope.

In 2006, I was a senior in high school.  October 29th was a Sunday and I was home with my mom.  My older brother, Brandon, was a junior at Purdue University.  My dad and my little brother, Tyler, had gone deer hunting together that morning.  Tyler was nine at the time and was still too young to hunt in a tree stand by himself, so he shared with my dad.

At about 9:45 that morning, my mom received a phone call from a police officer saying that my dad had been in a serious accident and was being airlifted to the nearest trauma center which was an hour away. 

We were confused and panicked.  Where was my brother?  What had happened exactly?

My dad and brother were getting out of the tree stand to come home.  Tyler climbed down first.  My dad went to climb down and somehow slipped and fell 20 feet to the ground head-first.  Tyler did more than I could ever have imagined a nine-year-old was capable of after witnessing such an event.  There was blood everywhere and my dad wasn't breathing.  After unsuccessfully searching for my dad's cellphone to call 911, he took off running to the nearest house over a mile away.  A man was outside working in his yard when Tyler made it to the house.  He told the man what happened and he called 911. 

The emergency crew found my dad and put him on a ventilator before airlifting him to the nearest hospital.  My grandfather, who lived near where my dad and brother were hunting, picked Tyler up and drove him to the hospital.  My mom and I met him there.

The emergency room doctor told us that we needed to gather our family together.  My dad had a 1% chance of survival and probably wouldn't make it through the night.  We called my brother at Purdue and told him to get there as soon as possible.  My dad had a broken neck, a broken back (in eight places), multiple skull fractures, and two bleeds in his brain. 

Our family gathered together.  I tried to do what I could to comfort Tyler after what he had just gone through.  We tried to prepare ourselves for what was to come.

We prayed.  We prayed hard.  People prayed with us.  People prayed for us.

And somehow, my dad made it through the night.  As the days passed with my dad on a ventilator in the intensive care unit, our hope increased.  We continued to pray for his healing.  We continued to pray for something that the doctors said was impossible.

After the first few days, the doctors said that if my dad did survive, he would be unable to walk due to his neck injury and would most likely be in a "vegetative state."  We tried to prepare for that reality as a family. 

But as the days passed, the doctors were able to remove him from the ventilator and my dad could breathe on his own.

As the days passed, my dad regained consciousness.

Our hope was growing.  We continued to pray.  People prayed with us.  People prayed for us.

Tyler and I with my dad during his rehabilitation and recovery in the hospital, November 2006.

What ensued was a long road of recovery, rehabilitation, and prayer.  My dad had a devastating brain injury - one that led to many days of pain, anxiety, confusion, and cognitive and memory problems. 

But God answered our prayers.

October 29th was a day that changed all of our lives.  My baby brother witnessed a terrible accident, something that a child should never have to endure or process.  We struggled.  We struggled with whether or not my dad would survive.  We struggled with whether or not he would ever have a quality of life again.  We struggled with why this happened to our family.  But, in the midst of it all, according to the doctors, my dad came back from the dead.

My dad was an airplane pilot.  After months of questioning whether or not my dad would ever regain his ability to walk, his cognitive skills, the basic things that make us human, my dad not only survived, but he thrived.  God healed him.  God gave my dad his life back. 

My dad walked.  My dad went back to fly airplanes again. 

Life has not been without its troubles.  Five years after the accident, my dad developed epilepsy from his prior brain injury and had to retire from flying.  He has had two recent major back surgeries due to the injuries he sustained in the accident.

But my dad is alive.

This story of struggle, sadness, and illness is no longer a story of devastation, it's a story of hope and a tribute to the power of prayer. 

God can come through in a big way.  Pray.  Pray without ceasing.  And love one another.

Me with my dad and mom on my wedding day, 6 years after the accident that almost took my dad's life.

I titled this post "1000 Paper Cranes" because of a story my aunt told me when we were in the hospital with my dad.  An ancient Japanese legend says that if you string 1000 origami cranes together, you can be granted good luck, such as recovery from an illness.  I've never forgotten that story and it always reminds me of time spent with my family in the hospital.