Today, someone asked me if I remembered my airplane crash.
I wondered what she meant.
She asked if I remembered the actual airplane crashing.
Yes...yes, I do. I remember it very vividly.
Almost like it was yesterday, in fact.
I remember what it felt and looked like, and the sounds and the smells.
I remember every bit of it.
The difference now is it doesn't affect me anymore.
I can think about it (and get a big lump in my throat),
but it doesn't throw me into depression or shock as it once did.
I think I am past that part.
I prayed and prayed and prayed (x100,000) that God would take those feelings
away, help me forget, and help me move on.
Mostly, I wanted to stop having bad dreams.
In due time, God took it away from me,
but in His great wisdom, He didn't take them away completely.
The hard parts make us strong.
They make us fighters, they make us sympathetic,
caring, kind, loving, compassionate, and they make us brave.
I hope I always remember my accident, even down to the smallest details.
Sometimes, those details break my heart, and then
I long for my little life before everything came crashing down,
but those details create gratitude in my heart.
Sometimes, for no good reason at all during my day,
I snap photos of everything, but absolutely nothing in particular.
It's like I'm pinching myself to be sure this reality is actually mine.
It's proof of life- evidence of existing.
I'll take the ups and downs that I face daily: the ongoing pains,
the frustrations and imperfections of my body and its abilities.
I'll take the endless trials and disappointments and the horrible unknowns
I'll take it all because it's life and because
There is power in trials.
"With God all things are possible."