On the Sixteenth Anniversary of My Injury

7/4/26

A broken down van

A broken wheelchair

A broken elevator

A broken relationship 

A broken neck 

What’s one more broken thing in a world of broken things?

What’s one more broken thing in a world that already feels broken to the marrow?

There is fear in this place. 

A fear that no one cares about your suffering. 

A fear that others will hear your cry and turn away because it’s too much. 

It’s too sad.

It’s too painful. 

What can I do about it anyway? 

Do not let apathy steal your humanity.

Do not let sadness overwhelm your joy. 

Do not let sneaking tendrils of resentment and anger steal your gentleness. 

I have felt the powerful siren call of helplessness. 

I have wrestled with my unbelief: in humanity, in goodness, in the divine. 

These things must be stared at straight in the face. 

They must be acknowledged. 

And then you must choose. 

Will I forgive? Will I try? Will I love my neighbor? Will I get back up? Will I bear witness? Will I squeeze every ounce of joy that I can from this one, fleeting life? 

Yes. Over and over and over again, YES. 

Let me not drown and die in my sorrow before I have truly taken my last breath. 

Let my love and I marvel in the miracle of sharing a life together; the providence of our paths crossing and intertwining.

Let me pass on to my beautiful, beloved son a legacy of perseverance and of grace and of love. 

It is the most I can hope for.