Falling And Numbers

Most years, I take special note of December 5.

I call it Falling Day. It’s the anniversary of the day in 1987 when everything changed. The day I fell 9 feet, took an ambulance ride, and found out I was permanently paralyzed below my chest.

Falling Day passed without much fanfare last week because we’ve been busy with some other FREEDOM TOUR stuff. But as I reflected this weekend, some numbers came to mind.

37 years, more than half my life, since the accident.

20 years, the bulk of my classroom career, happened in a wheelchair.

25 years since my first 2-block handcycle ride.

51,000 total handcycle miles cranked.

13 years since our 1500-mile Mississippi River adventure.

12 years of being surrounded by the FREEDOM TOUR community.

$850,000 donated by generous supporters to give hope and freedom to our kids.

There are other metrics. We count volunteers, cyclists, donors. Thinking back, trying to put Falling Day into some sort of perspective, I realize one number matters most of all.

22 kids who were destined for lives in the darkness of sexual slavery, and now live and play and laugh in the light of freedom.

Falling Day used to be sad. Now it’s mostly a time to reflect. Surely there are thoughts of what might have been.

Numbers like “37 years” and “51,000 miles” help me realize – Jesus hasn’t wasted any of it.

37 years ago, I was strapped to an ICU bed awaiting spinal surgery. Jesus was beside me then, and He’s been with me through all the depression and darkness, through all the twists and turns of this crazy journey.

In case you need a reminder, He’s with you, too.

He invites all of us to join Him on the journey, doing the simple, difficult things of His Kingdom.

I hope you will join me in re-focusing on the number that matters:

22 kids