When I was very small I was always daddy’s little girl. We were inseparable and he was an important part of my life. When I was just 4 years old, we made a gigantic move that would change my life forever. The trip to Massachusetts started off as a 2 week vacation but would ultimately turn into a lifelong move. I was taken abruptly from my home and placed in a new environment, one with my mom and siblings but not my dad. An emotional burial began in that moment. Someone who was a very important part of my life was no longer there, and I had to fend for myself to replace the father figure I once knew so well.

This is not a story to complain about my life — it’s just that as the years went by with no contact, my heart decided to do its own thing. Unforgiveness, resentment, and anger fell into my heart, straining my relationships with others. I craved the love that only a father could give, a love that I didn’t know anymore. Everything was being buried deep down where I barely acknowledged its existence. But God knew, and he longed to fill that void that had been created in my life.

So He led me to that day at the altar. With each step I was surrendering my own will and my own emotions that held me back from experiencing the love of my Heavenly Father. He knew of the pain that I didn’t acknowledge, and he brought me out of it and onto a solid foundation. He transformed me that night, and it will carry on for the rest of my life. I have my dad again, and I know he will never leave me. I am in the arms of my Daddy, forever.

I could write hundreds of pages about the aftermath of the crash, but I’ll simply say that it was catastrophic. I made it out of the car as soon as I regained consciousness and watched medics work tirelessly to get my mother out of the mangled car. When she was finally out and on a stretcher, I realized that my collarbone was in two pieces. By the grace of God, I was able to use my arms normally and did not feel any pain, even though I had crawled on my hands and knees when getting out of the car. While waiting for an ambulance of my own to arrive, I was seated for a short time in the front seat of a police officer’s SUV. Sitting there, holding my shoulder in place, I felt the peace of God in the most powerful way. I sat there and worshipped and sang, staring at the twisted piece of metal that used to be our car.

When I got to the Emergency Room, a doctor came in and began to tell me that I should get ready to say good bye to my mother — that she was going to die or be severely brain damaged. I could feel myself starting to panic, but I asked God for more of his peace and could almost feel his arms around me in that hospital bed. I calmly refused everything he said to me, telling him that I knew everything was going to be all right. Eventually I asked him to leave and thanked God for healing when all I heard was death.

Just one hour after the accident, a nurse came in and told me that the waiting room was full, and they were all there for me. I was surrounded by my blood family and my church family, even though hospital policy said they could only come in two at a time. In that little emergency room, two at a time, they reminded me what the love of God looks like. They prayed with me. They told me it was going to be ok. They made me laugh. They made me cry “happy tears”. They brushed my hair. They stole an extra blanket from the next room when no one was looking. I don’t need to know why bad things happen to good people. I’m glad God cares when bad things happen.

A week later, the day I graduated high school, my mother started breathing unassisted again for the first time. As Salutatorian, I thanked God in my speech for his healing. My mother has made a miraculous recovery, and we are trusting God for complete healing of her leg, which was shattered in the accident. Just like God told me in the E.R. that day, she has no brain damage and we are doing great. Though I could go into much more detail about our physical healing, the most precious thing I carry with me from that accident is absolute confidence in the love of God, even in what seems to be the most disastrous circumstances.

My parents ran into the room, and when they saw I was having an asthma attack they immediately put me on the nebulizer, but even with all of that medication I wasn’t getting better. So my mom told my older brother and dad to go on to church and that she would stay home with me. After they left, my mom sat down with me and started to pray. My dad and my older brother asked the whole church to pray for me.

When my mom finished praying, she said that I changed from blue to a reddish color. When the church found out that God healed me they praised Him and thanked Him that I was alive. When I went for a checkup the doctor told my mom that my asthma was completely gone — not a trace of asthma! We told the rest of my family, and they all praised God and thanked Him again for what he had done.

Today I am still asthma free. Ever since then I have reminded myself again and again of what He did for me. God has helped me through great problems. Every time I think about it, I thank Him, for without Him I would not be here today. One lady I related this story to said that it was the most amazing story she had ever heard.

God has blessed me in many ways. He has shown me things that I have never seen before. I am thankful for what He has done for me, and more importantly I know that He loves me always and I love Him.