I started out as a pretty normal child, the third and last of our family. I was born in Phoenix, Arizona, June 20, 1964. The temperature was 119, a very hot day, but my Mother did well and I entered the world with a slap on the bottom and that typical cry to welcome the world. Since I was born at the Phoenix Baptist Hospital, I have been a Baptist from the beginning you might say.

My father was the Lead Pastor at the Maryvale Baptist Church, so you see I really didn’t have a chance from the beginning. By the time I arrived my sister Dana and brother Theron was well on their way to keeping things interesting in both the parsonage and church.

When I was five years old my father accepted the invitation to be the Lead Pastor from the King’s Place (First Baptist Church), in Lancaster, California, The King’s Place and all those wonderful people are who I remember as a child. You know when your very young, you don’t go around every day wondering if people love you, but those wonderful people at The King’s Place loved me and my family and I knew it, and if ever a question, that would be very clear later.

In my church, I had so many wonderful things to enjoy that most kids don’t know anything about. I sang in the children’s choirs, went to camps and class parties with my friends. We had two very special ladies, Velva Oliver and Dorothy Crafton. They seemed very old, but they had such a love for everyone. They started what was called Special Ministries for Special People. We had all kinds of interesting groups. I especially liked the one for those who either couldn’t hear or could hardly hear. In order to be a helper with those people, I took a class in signing. That would prove to be very helpful later when I lost the ability to speak or hear.

I had an older sister, Dana. I idolized her. She was much more of a free spirit than me. Everyone loved her and I wanted to be just like her. Theron is my brother, really a good-looking dude. He played guitar in some of the local bands. I think he had the idea that one day they would replace the Beatles.

On December 2. 1978, my father had been invited to speak at a women’s Christmas banquet in Boron, CA. That night I was with my church friends at our youth Christmas party. On the way home the car I was in was hit by a lady who was driving while drunk. In that accident, I suffered a severe injury to my brain stem. I moved through all the stages of a coma for the next eight or ten months. I started my little journey in our local hospital. I was then transferred to the Children’s Hospital in Los Angeles. My final hospital home was Rancho Los Amigos, in Downey, CA. I spent thirteen months in those hospitals without ever seeing the light of day.

Finally, I was able to return home. How well I remember, my mom and dad’s faith was so high. Our church was praying for me daily expecting that God would do what only he could do. I was told that shortly after the accident, my friends at the church prayed around the clock for two or three weeks, praying that I would recover and wake up. Well, for whatever reason that didn’t happen, and I don’t know exactly why, but you should see me now! If you have seen my picture holding the little duck in Hawaii, that’s kind of how I look now but with the added glow that comes from the presence of Jesus.

Before I let you leave me, I want to share just one of the experiences I actually enjoyed while in the hospitals. I already told you how much I love animals no matter the color or size. I especially enjoyed riding horses with my friend Pam Gody. To ride on the ocean sand or through the wildflowers on the high desert, what wonderful memories. When I was in those hospitals, most staff thought I was in a coma, but in my mind, I was riding through the fields and splashing through the surf. It was indescribable.

The next thirty-one years of my life were pretty challenging. The first three years I was home, but because of my inability to speak, hear or do anything for myself, mom’s health was rapidly deteriorating making it impossible to care for either of us.  Eventually, my new home became the Russell House in Desert Hot Springs, CA. This is one of about twenty homes in the Coachella Valley. They are built for people just like me, people with serious disabilities and they all fly under the name Angel View. Mom and Dad would make that round trip each weekend so I could be in my home with them, but eventually, those 600-mile trips to pick me up and take me back caused them to move to the Palm Springs area where we could all be closer.

In about 2005 my physical condition changed once again. Eating was a real trip since the accident. I had lost my gag reflex. The doctor’s used some big word to explain my problem, I think they said I was aspirating, or something like that. They explained that my food was going into my lungs, so they decided to place a feeding tube through my stomach. Even though eating was a real challenge, it was the one thing I could still enjoy, but the feeding tube took that away as well. I was no longer able to enjoy those marvelous meals Mom would prepare for all those special occasions.

Since my home, the Russell House did not have nursing care, I had to make another move near Ontario, California. My new home was called The Shepherd House. I was there for nearly four years.

On the night of July 31, 2009, my caregiver helped me into the shower. I couldn’t stand, so she put me in a chair like device. Sometimes she would leave me there for about five minutes. It felt so good. She then put me down for the night as she had done so many many nights before. She bushed my hair and made certain that I was comfortable and then moved to another room to help one of my friends. Fifteen minutes later she returned to check on me only to discover that God still made house calls. She didn’t know it but I had just made the trip of my life. The paramedics were called and you can’t believe all the commotion. They were frantically trying to make me breathe again. Can you believe it? Here I am in the presence of the Lord, talking a mile a minute like I’ve not been able to for more than thirty one-years, and dancing with legs that wouldn’t work, but now will never tire. I only have one question, this is such a neat place, why didn’t God send for me about thirty-one years ago? I’ll be seeing him soon and I plan to ask him.