by Awand Frebo

Created on: December 29, 2006   Last Updated: May 11, 2007

In 1985 I was what society would refer to as a "free spirit." I felt that nothing could stop me from the spinning wheel of which I wove my fabric. I enjoyed life to the fullest, yet, the life I enjoyed was not suitable to many others. After all, I was a mother of a fine son. I had been taught all my life that, "we must accept and live for God, so that one day we would live in heaven with Him." I believed my teachings, using them when necessary, I was just not ready to act on them. As I ponder, I realize that I took time for nothing but what would satisfy my own driven desires.

Up until August 31st of the year 1985, my only desire was to have fun with my friends who enjoyed the very same life style that I had so carefully selected to be my own. I did the bar scene. I danced to the wild music. I stayed up late and worked hard the following day. My eyes became accustomed to the low lightings of the bar room and sleeping with cucumber slices to perhaps ward off the dreaded dark circles.

I was raised in a Christian home. I was taught that alcohol was not to be consumed in any manner. Strange how that stuck with me. Though I spent many hours in the clubs and night spots, I never consumed alcohol. It was the music that drew me through the doors of the "hell den's," as was my mothers reference to the bars.

I took time for my son. When I stayed out until the wee hours on Saturday nights, I would arise early and take my son to church. I truly did want him to learn and understand the true meaning of Christianity. There were so many other times that I could have stayed home with him, and enjoyed his company. Yet, I choose that precious time alloted, be spent with my "friends."

And then in August of 1985, an accident changed my way of thinking. I was injured,traumatized, and near death. The gentleman in the vehicle with me, unfortuntaly died at the scene. He did not have the opportunity to make changes before the death angel came calling. God spared me. Yet, He also taught me a lesson.

The feet and legs that I onced used for dancing, were now casted, bound and bones and tissue were destroyed. My first fear after I had awaken from one of the many surgeries to repair what was left of my foot, was that I would never be able to wear those "sexy" high heeled shoes again. How vain!

I found myself with plenty of time to think and stare into space. I thought about the past, and how I had never gotten involved in what was going on around me, except of course what I had created. I realized

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