My view never
changes. From my small room, B bed, I have a window to the outside world. One
white birch tree hugs a chain link fence, and the top half of a tennis dome
rises above it. I can’t see the ocean that lives only three blocks away; but on
a quiet night when James isn’t snoring next to me, and most residents are
sleeping, I listen to the rhythm of the waves, crashing against the shore. I
smell the salty air from my open window, and imagine being a captain of a
ship—sometimes a pirate ship to add adventure to my dreams.
Did I tell you I’m almost
fifty? Thirty years a quadriplegic, more than half my life. The first half I
was into extreme sports—anything most people thought I was crazy for trying. Hang-gliding, freestyle snowboarding, and my
last adventure in motorcycle racing. I can’t remember the accident, but I
remember hearing someone say, “His chances are fifty/ fifty,” before I opened
my eyes. I never knew the family in the car I hit; they remain ghosts in my
nightmare. Their lives are the guilt I live with.
Now I’m the
person I never wanted to look at or be reminded of—the imperfect part of the
world. Some people get that sad look in their eyes; others look away. But there
are people like Maggie who jokes with me just to hear my grunt laugh and see my
half-smile. That’s about all I can do. On Sundays, Maggie pushes my Geri-chair
into the dining room to hear Bettina and Vern sing worship songs and read from the Bible
with their Jamaican accents.
Bettina sings,
“He can move the mountains…my God is mighty to save…He is mighty to save…” Vern
shakes a tambourine, as the other residents attempt to sing along. I wish I
could clap to the beat of my heart during those songs. Though I don’t move, so
much moves within me. Warm tingling sensations zip through my body and remind
me of racing. I love listening to Bettina’s soft voice as she reads God’s
promise: “They will see the Son of Man coming on the clouds of the sky, with
power and great glory.” Matthew 24:30.
I wonder if
Bettina knows about my life before here when she talks about God’s forgiveness.
She says He can forgive us even in our final hour like the thief on the cross. “Jesus
answered him, ‘Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in paradise.’” Luke
23:43.
I close my
eyes and imagine that day.
She asks if
anyone wants to be sure about their future in these end times. “Will you be
ready to meet Jesus when He returns? He is knocking…do you hear him? He wants
to come into your life.”
I want to say
yes, but I can’t raise my hand; I nod and wait to make eye contact with her. Her
face glows with a wide smile as she notices me nodding. She doesn’t ask what my
religious affiliation is or if I want to convert; she just prays…prays with
power. “He wants to enter your broken body and heal your spirit. Just blink
yes.”
And like a
thief in the night…
The trumpet
blares louder than the world. I turn my head toward the window to see the
clouds churning like red velvet cake batter. The sky ripples as all the colors
swirl together.
The
light…
The love…
In a twinkling
of an eye…
I run into the
arms of my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. My view is changed for eternity.
*******
“in a flash,
in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet will sound,
the dead will be raised imperishable, and we will be changed.” 1 Corinthians
15:52
Song: “Mighty
to Save” written by Reuben Morgan & Ben Fielding / Hillsong Church
First printed at Faithwriters.com weekly challenge / 3rd Place Editor's Choice
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