A witness from God can be relied upon. As you read our thoughts, beliefs, and experiences, we invite you to obtain a witness for yourself. If something we say or imply does not ring true, then you should feel no obligation to accept it. Life is an individual and unique journey with God. Although we can help and encourage each other, we need to be careful not to come between God and another person.

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Showing posts with label accident. Show all posts
Showing posts with label accident. Show all posts

Thursday, August 14, 2025

Never Once Was He Alone

The music video below contains visual depictions of John's injury,
and so it is only available to watch on YouTube for those over 18 years.

Never Once Was He Alone is based on the true story of a mountain accident on July 3, 2014. While operating heavy machinery alone grading a ski slope, John experienced an accident that could easily have taken his life.

The physical trauma was severe: his head was lacerated and later closed with 21 staples; his back was bruised and rubbed raw from bracing against the seat as the machine overturned; and his side was pierced—likely by a branch. He sustained seven broken ribs and three breaks in his back. He rolled over 600 feet down the mountain slope through small-diameter trees and was finally stopped by larger trees at the base near the parking area. John landed upside down, freed himself from the machine, and crawled to the edge of the parking lot, where other workers—including our oldest son—rushed to his aid. And yet, through the pain and disorientation, there was an unmistakable sense of protection, guidance, and grace.

As he endured his own wounds, John came to glimpse the wounds of Christ. This was not just suffering—it became a personal invitation to understand the love of a Savior who willingly suffered for us. It is a testimony that even in our most broken moments, we are never abandoned. This is a story of faith refined through fire, of a prayer answered in unexpected ways, and of a God who walks with us through the hardest terrain.

About the photos in the video:
The first photo shows the slope John rolled down, with the Takeuchi track skidsteer visible at the base. The crashed machine appears in the background during the lyric, “He’s crawled through the thickets…”. The picture of John in his S300 Bobcat was taken at a different job site. The slope photos are original from 2014, when John was grading the ski runs. Some photos were taken immediately after the accident and later in the hospital; others, from August 2014, show John working in the garden and riding the 4-wheeler, determined to stay active despite the pain. The cliff-side shots are from a September 2014 road trip in Southern Utah with a close friend.

Many original accident-site photos were lost over the years. The trees seen in the video as John rolls down the slope were filmed in 2025 at the original location.


Saturday, July 26, 2025

In the Cracks of Broken Memory

Happy Birthday John! I love you!!!


There have been three times in our marriage when John came close to dying: December 17, 1997; July 3, 2014; and March 5, 2025.

The first was in 1997. John was building a home, and a crane was lifting a bundle of roof trusses wrapped in a chain. Mid-lift, the chain gave way. The trusses fell, striking John and slamming his head into the frozen ground.

He was in a coma for weeks, with swelling in his brain the size of a tennis ball. I didn’t know how the brain injury would affect him. I believed he would wake up, but I didn’t know who he would be on the other side of it. Even so, I felt peace through that time, even without knowing the outcome. But it was also lonely—being in that space beside him while he slept, missing the sound of his voice, his presence, his spirit.

So when he finally opened his eyes—when he smiled, when he laughed—it was like feeling the light come back into the room. I could feel him again.

His recovery from such a serious injury was nothing short of miraculous. Still, he lost 50% of his auditory processing. Conversations became difficult—he couldn’t always hold onto words or follow what was being said. We had to learn how to communicate again. And more than that, how to be patient, how to listen with our hearts when words fell short.

We went on to have eight more children after the accident—for a total of eleven. John is a remarkable father. Truly, the perfect companion for me.

In the Cracks of Broken Memory is a song about that season. Not about tragedy, but about the slow, steady work of loving each other through uncertainty. About finding grace when the path isn’t clear. About dancing—sometimes clumsily, sometimes beautifully—on ground we never expected to stand on.