by Deborah Stewart

Created on: March 29, 2009   Last Updated: March 01, 2011

I could not see the car racing wildly down the road, because the car behind me-slowly edging me out of my parking place, was blocking my view of the left. What could I do? I completed the maneuver of pulling out onto the road, and the man behind me pulled into my place. Simple.

It almost cost me my life! The drunk who had swung around the nearby corner could not see me either because of the Lincoln which had "pushed" me out of my parking spot. He hit my driver's door with such an impact that he literally bounced off my car, hit another parked car, bounced off it, and hit a third before coming to a halt. It happened in front of an elementary school, and I thank God that school was not in session!

I don't remember the police or ambulance getting there. They couldn't get me out of the car, so they had to use the mechanical device to pry open the door. I don't remember the trip to the hospital. I remember two policemen standing to my left and saying, "Don't worry ma'am. We got him. He had 7 alias', and a long record. He won't get away with this! We're sorry!"

I remember the doctor telling me, "Although you are in your late twenties, you now have the spine of a seventy-year-old woman, and you will end up in a wheelchair before long. I hate to be the one to have to tell you, but the sooner you know the truth, the sooner you can deal with it."

There went my nursing career! There went my life! But then, I thought, "No! God will have the final say here-not you!"

For one year, I went to two hospitals, one therapist and two doctors each week. My life was gone, and I lived to go from doctor to doctor. They kept me so drugged that I sometimes barely recognized my own beloved son, and God alone got  me from place to place. When I did become lucid behind the wheel, I not only did not know where I was-I did not know where I was going! Truly; God was my "
Co-Pilot".I will never forget how I miraculously traveled five days a week from doctor to doctor as drugged as they kept me: yes-I believe in miracles!

My range of movement was virtually zero, and my son had to even tie my shoes for me. I got behind in my rent, because I could not work. Feeling like an invalid, my future looked grim. I cold only think of my beloved son-and how I was all he had in this world. Who would he turn to or depend upon if what the doctors told me was true? I HAD to believe that God had a plan...

One Sunday night at church, in the presence of my mother, my aunt, my son and Almighty God, my son tugged

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