The Reason Why I Sing

This morning at 3:04 a.m. I was woken up to the song Why We Sing by Kirk Franklin.

Someone asked the question
Why do we sing?
When we lift our hands to Jesus
What do we really mean?

Someone may be wondering
When we sing our song
At times we maybe crying.
And nothings even wrong

I sing because I'm happy
I sing because I'm free
His eye is on the sparrow
That's the reason why I sing

Glory
Hallelujah
You're the reason why I sing

So, you ask, why do I sing? I sing because God has brought me a mighty long way. November 28, 2016, will be 25 years since I was involved in a horrific accident.

This is how it all happened.

 On November 28, 1991 in St. Louis, Missouri my mom and I were at my grandparent’s house visiting. Their house is on Lee Avenue in the city. On the television, there were warnings of an ice storm. So, my mother and I got in the car and started to make our trek home, in North County, before the impending storm came. SO WE THOUGT!!!! As we were driving on the highway, the car hit some black ice and collided with the wall. By now the ice was really coming down. So instead of staying in the car, we got out to go to the other side of the highway. We did not want any other cars to hit the black ice and hit our car causing us more damage because our car was facing the opposite direction. My mom was in front and I was holding her hand, slightly behind her. I almost cleared our car when another car hit our car, hitting me. I screamed Mommy and then it was lights out.

I needed to be air lifted to the nearest hospital, which was DePaul, but weather conditions were so bad we had to travel by ambulance on the icy roads. DePaul didn’t have a pediatric neurosurgeon, so I had to be transported to Cardinal Glennon.  All I remember was the hospital experience after that. All of the nurses and doctors were very friendly to me and my family. When word got out that I was in an accident and it did not look good, family, friends, and other churches prayed fervently for me and my family. I was in a comma for a month. Christmas that year was horrible for my family and friends.  On New Year’s Eve, my mom and dad got the call from the hospital that I had woken up out of the comma. I did not know what was going on, but I heard a nurse say “ She is going to die”. I became fearful and started to cry. However, in a childlike way I knew to pray. Every night, as I lay in my hospital bed I would pray. I suffered multiple skull fractures and had to undergo multiple surgeries.

My mother taught school in the daytime, but would come to see me after work. While my mom was at work, my paternal grandfather would come every day to sit with me in my hospital room. I remember him sitting in a rocking chair reading his newspaper. He would talk to the nurses and doctors as they would come in to check on me. He fondly called one of my female doctors “Doctor Shug” because she was so sweet to my family. The doctors eventually moved me up to the rehab floor because I was my prognosis was getting better and better. Through much physical, occupational, and speech therapy, I became stronger.  I had to learn to walk, eat, speak, and write all over again. When my elementary school found out I was in the hospital, the principal, Mr. French and my second grade teacher, Mrs. English went the extra mile for me and my family. Mr. French told all the teachers about my accident and they supported me and my family during this ordeal. Mrs. English and her family would come up to visit me. She would read to me and do grade level activities with me. The entire elementary school sent me cards to show how much they loved and missed me. The doctors thought I was going to be a vegetable and be in the Special School District. But my God said no. To the amazement of the nurses and doctors, God performed a miracle on my behalf. On March 19, 1992, I was released from the hospital and came home. I was able to return to  Armstrong Elementary school and continue with my second grade class. All of my classmates were very happy that I was back. With much occupation and physical therapy during school and after school, I was getting better and better. I never failed a grade and continued in school, never missing a beat. I graduated and went on to college. Today, I am 33 years old and doing great.

So, you see this is the reason why I sing, praise God, and lift up my hands in worship at church on Sundays and all during the week.  God did a miracle in my life and I am forever grateful to him. There were a lot of tears and prayers for me that God saw and heard. He came to my rescue and now I can tell my story. I thank God for his sovereignty that surrounded me and my family during this frightening time in our lives. God is a magnificent God!!!!!!