Today marked the 9-year anniversary of my motorcycle accident. I'd almost forgot, until Ansley reminded me yesterday that it would be. Interestingly, she was delivering a speech in one of her college classes on motorcycle safety today, which I had helped her research over the weekend, when she suddenly realized, "Hey Dad, I'll be making this speech exactly 9 years to the day after your accident!" It seemed so many years ago now, as I recounted the events of that day for her speech.
I had taken today off, due to a busy weekend of visiting hospitals & funeral homes as the weekend on-call pastor. After finishing some morning yardwork, I hopped on the bike and took off for an afternoon of riding. I can think of no better way to commemorate that fateful day 9 years ago, than a good ride on a beautiful day.
I headed southeast toward Bethlehem, then through Statham, then down to Watkinsville. I stopped in at NPR Ducati, gawking at the cool Italian bikes on display. One day, I hope to own a 2nd bike, a Ducati Monster 620 or 695. Lord willing, of course...
It was a peaceful, relaxing ride through the country, down roads largely deserted. I rode and prayed, as I often do, about anything and anyone God brings to my mind. I also spent time reflecting on the accident, 9 years ago today. An inattentive motorist had jumped out into traffic, trying to get across to the opposite lanes, and instead jumped into my path. I'd had precious little time to react, gripping down on both brakes in an effort to reduce as much speed as possible, all in a split second. I'd hit him at his left front headlight, flipped over his hood, and landed about 10 feet beyond, in oncoming traffic. Thankfully, cars stopped fast, and many came to my aid. I suffered a compound fracture of my left femur, a shattered kneecap, bruised wrist and shoulder, and numerous cuts and scrapes. I endured 4 surgeries over 18 months, and 3 months of physical therapy to learn how to walk again.
I had always feared two things from the accident- first, that I would never be able to run and exercise again to the extent I was used to, and second, that I might never ride again. But God is faithful, and He allowed me to recover fully, and I've since been more active than before, and of course, I'm riding again, logging about 10K miles a year on the big Yamaha.
As I rode today, I reflected on these things, and how good God is. That accident not only made me a much safer rider, it also has opened so many doors to identify with and minister to people who suffer physically, esp. folks involved in accidents. God has truly turned my scars into stars, as an old preacher used to say. And I have my share of scars!
I love to ride motorcycles. I love the openness of it, being right out in the elements; I love the feel of a powerful machine under me, under my total control, blasting down the road; I love the wind in my face, the sun on the back of my neck, the sights, the smells, the sounds, the feeling of temperature changes up and down hills, the freedom. But most of all, I love the solitude, and the communion with my Father out on the road. I am thankful He gave me back my health, and thankful for this motorcycle He gave me, to enjoy riding, to enjoy Him, and to share His love with others I meet out there.
I am truly blessed.
"We know that God causes all things to work together for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose." Romans 8:28