Facing the Issue: |
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MEG'S STORYOn 11th June, 1994, life for me stopped. It was unlikely that It would ever start again. I had been a busy, happy, fulfilled Mum with three sons. Part time teaching in a local school had also filled some of my hours. On this particular day though, I had spent a happy, summer's day with a friend in the Midlands. We had walked and talked together, and had enjoyed a lovely picnic in the countryside. I left my friend about 9. 00 pm to drive home to Suffolk, but I never arrived. As it was getting dark, and as I neared Bury St Edmunds, a large articulated lorry in front of me on the dual carriageway had its lights on like the rest of the traffic but I did not realise that it was stationery because it had broken down. I crashed right into the back of it at 70 miles per hour, and seemingly that was the end of me. There were no witnesses. Yes, life stopped. |
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The lorry driver was sitting in his cab and was greatly shaken by the collision at the back of his vehicle. He went to explore what had happened and wiped his brow with horror when he saw the mass of crumpled car wreckage that looked as if no one in it could have remained alive. He then saw my broken body slumped over the bent driving wheel and he returned to his cab to fetch a blanket to cover me. It was then that an amazing thing happened. |
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The next vehicle to come along the road beside him was an emergency ambulance driven by a paramedic who had finished his work for the day and was on his way home. No-one had called for the ambulance. The driver saw the result of the dreadful accident and pulled up to see if he was needed . He was! After clambering over the wreckage and working on me for a while, he was able to get my unconscious body breathing again. He lifted me out from the mess, laid me in the ambulance and drove me to the hospital at Bury St Edmunds. Of course I remember nothing of this. Because I had given my life to God many years ago, I knew that God loved me deeply and that I loved Him. I had talked to Him in prayer every day, and asked Him what I could do for Him each day. I was a Christian. When this terrible accident happened, I'm sure that it was God who sent that ambulance along at that precise moment. Humanly I owe my life to that paramedic but spiritually I owe my life to God. At the hospital I was taken to the operating theatre where the surgeon's assistant saw my name and recognised it. "Oh", she cried out, "Its Meg Jack, and what a terrible mess. Whatever can we do for her?" Knowing that this nurse had a strong faith in Jesus Christ and believed in prayer, the surgeon answered, "Pray for her." She did, right there in the operating theatre with me lying in an unconscious state beside her. So my healing began with people praying for me and it continued with many people in the country praying for me. I laid in the Intensive Care Ward hovering between life and death for a week and was then transferred to an ordinary ward for several weeks. My physical progress was extremely slow and the medical people thought that my left hand and arm might never function properly again. The doctor said that my arm would hang by my side utterly useless. The hospital eventually sent me home as a bad job. |
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| I was not a happy person. Life before this accident had been full, busy and fulfilled and now it seemed that there was nothing left of it to enjoy. I could do next to nothing. I felt that my life had become barren as if it were a desert. I was producing nil. I could not play the piano anymore; I could not drive my car; I could not travel to Jerusalem. I had regularly gone to help at the Garden Tomb in Jerusalem where the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ are remembered, and I loved this so much. Yes, life had stopped. |
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Victor at the Garden Tomb in Jerusalem Photo by David Makepeace |
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Then another surprising thing occurred and again I thank God for causing it to happen. A physiotherapist moved to our town and came to our church where she heard about my problems. She knew that I was a Christian who wanted to live to please God, and that there was much prayer going on for my healing. She was a Christian too, and she committed herself to come out to my house to give me physiotherapy one day every week for six weeks. People continued to pray and I continued to long to get better. With hard work, determination, pain and tears, eventually my muscles began to work again, and after about two years I was able to enter in to life as if nothing terrible had ever happened to me. I was able to drive my car again, I could play the piano, and I have worked again in Jerusalem. This is my story but really it is God's story. He provided the people at the right time to help me. He answered many people's prayers. He knew that I longed to live my life to please Him. He brought me from helplessness to a full active life again, and I thank Him with all of my heart! |
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Victor's Story |
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