As most of you know, during my last trip to India in June, I was in an accident.  I was on the back of a motorcycle high in the Himalayas when we lost control and slammed into the side of an oncoming truck.  My driver, a recent ISOM graduate with a heart to start a work in this very unreached region, had three breaks in his right leg and I had two breaks in my right femur.

Shortly after my surgery in India, a police investigator came to see me. He is Hindu and has investigated many accidents on that road.  He told me that according to his investigation, my driver had lost control of the bike and had crossed the lane. He said if we had not hit the truck, we would have crossed the lane and gone over the cliff 1600 feet into the river. (In fact, one day before my accident a man on a motorcycle, very near the location of my accident, did exactly that, falling to his death.)

This Hindu policeman was explaining to me that the only thing that saved our lives was the truck we hit and the fact we hit the back tires.  He kept throwing up his hand toward heaven saying, “Only the hand of God saved you. Only the hand of God!”  He was obviously very impressed we had lived! (We say “Thank you, Jesus, for the truck and angelic protection.”)

In the middle of all the pain, chaos of hospitals, ambulances, and surgeons during the next several days, what stood out the most to me was the love of my Indian friends.  At great hardship to themselves, they covered me, protected me, and got me the best help possible every step of the way, often staying with me night and day.  One dear brother held my blood transfusion against his chest trying to warm it up for me.  Another went to a metal shop to have a brace made for my leg so I could travel in the ambulance.

Following the accident, after nearly 10 hours of travel down the mountain, we arrived at another hospital in a city I have been to many times.  We reached at 4 a.m. and I had been in constant pain from bouncing around on the rough roads.  When they opened the doors of the ambulance, it brought tears to my eyes as there were many friends up all night praying and waiting for me. The stream of visitors seemed endless.

Then, it was my friends who got me to another city and hospital, the best surgeon they could find, and were at my side during the recovery process. The doctor did not want me to travel for 6 weeks after surgery, and a family I had just met one year prior (from same city) chose to take me in for 3 weeks. For the last few weeks, another dear family I’ve known for 10 years took me in. All these wonderful folks fed me, cared for me, gave me therapy every day and prayed over my leg again and again.  They gave and gave, asking for nothing in return. And my daughter flew to India for a week, then assisted with travel back home.

Thank you to my amazing Indian family. You loved me, cared for me, and became Jesus to me when I needed you the most.  May God repay you in ways that I never could! And what evidence of the Hand of God and the Love of Friends in my life on this trip – He saved my life and provided for my every need. Thank you to all those around the world who prayed  – Jan and I so appreciate the prayers and the love!