Trusting God: this seems like the simplest of concepts for a Christian to grasp. God is the Almighty Father and Omnipotent Comforter, so trusting Him with my life should not be the most difficult thing on my to-do list. Unfortunately, though, it is and has been for quite a while.

I remember when I started my freshman year of college, I assumed I had everything figured out. My life was on an uphill turn-around because of what God was changing in my life. He saved me when I was thirteen, but, at eighteen, I felt like He was doing it all over again. His Spirit was working within me, and I felt renewed and overjoyed. I wanted nothing but His will for my life. I joined the Baptist Center at my university and got involved with a local church. I gained accountability partners and lifelong God-fearing friends. I thought that I had everything under control.

After a series of road blocks and doors slammed in my face (all of which I ignored), God stopped me with a collision: a t-bone to the driver's side. The skin on my forehead was split down to the skull. My right arm was broken. My pelvis and sacrum was fractured. My liver and spleen were bruised. I was debilitated. I couldn't breathe without popping pain pills. I needed help from nurses and family. Luckily, I was only in the hospital for three days, but those few days felt like an eternity. The only way I could sleep was when the Percocet kicked in and literally knocked me out. Otherwise, I didn't feel like eating or sleeping. Everything terrified me. I remember my mother walking into the emergency prep room when the ambulance first delivered me, hearing her heartbreaking sobs when they pulled back the gauze to reveal my gash. I could have had brain damage, been paralyzed, or much worse. But, I was fine. I was alive. I had been saved.

Another thing I remember is praying, but I wasn't praying for myself. I was praying for my mother. I prayed to God to calm her heart and bring her peace, and He did. That's the last thing I remember before being wheeled into my two surgeries that lasted the entire first day in the hospital. He answered that prayer, and throughout the months following the wreck I failed to realize that. He stopped me in my tracks, but He answered my prayer. He was still working even when I didn't know it.

I was too focused on the negative side of my story. Walking hurt. Sneezing and coughing hurt. I couldn't bend down or lay back without a pillow to brace myself or someone else's help. The recovery that I assumed would be quick and painless wasn't either one. Although I owe my recovery all to God, I wasn't giving Him the gratification that He deserves. I sulked and felt sorry for myself because I like doing things on my own and not having to ask for help. That was the problem. I was angry. My life had been going exactly the way I thought it should. I was living the way a Christian should live. Of course, I sinned and fell short, but I was talking and walking with God (or so I thought). I wasn't asking for His help. I was cruising through life without a single glance back to the one who gave it to me.

I need His help every single day, and even when I think I can do it all on my own, I can't. It took a while for me to fully realize that, even though this event was tragic and crippling and left me struggling, God was right there next to me the entire time. He was the one who woke me from my unconscious stupor after the initial impact. He was the one who gave me peace in the hospital so that others would be at peace, too. He was the one who stitched me up and healed my scars within a year. He was the one who convinced me that I was going to learn to walk without a walker because He knew I was fully capable. He never left, and the craziest thing is that I can see it so clearly now even though, at the time, I thought He had abandoned me.

Although my trust wasn't fully in God then, I trust Him now. Instead of getting angry in times of misfortune, I chose to lean on Him. He was my Rock through the bad times, and He will still be my Rock in the good times. That's trust. I don't know what His plan is for my life, but I'm not supposed to know. Faith is the strongest form of trust, and I have faith that His plan is greater than any plan I could have conjured up myself. After seeing Him heal me not only physically but spiritually, I believe that the wreck was essential in my growth. I've learned that no matter how sure of yourself you are, God will always be a million steps ahead building the life that will glorify His name the most, and learning to trust His righteous path all over again is one of the most beautiful things that has ever happened to me. And, although it took me over a year to piece everything together, He has never failed me. He's the one who has proven to be trustworthy through the ages, and I was the one who had to be pushed to the breaking point to be drawn back into His loving arms. And, it is all so well with my soul.