ten years.
ten years ago today my life was changed forever.
i didn't know the impact of what had happened.
and to this day i am unsure if i truly know the ramifications of the accident.
you see, if you know me, you'll know already that my life was tragically forever changed in ethiopia, africa. when the van that i was in tumbled off the side of the cliff
Say what? I fell off a cliff in the middle Africa? Yes, I guess that needs some explaining. I was in Africa to end poverty and especially work with the children of homelessness. I was there for a mission: fix the the brokenhearted, set the captives free and clothe those who couldn't do it themselves. I naively thought that I was going to save the world. I thought that if the world needed another Mother Teresa; here I was to take over the position. As her value was to work with the poorest of the poor, as would I. My big plan to save the world however, came to a very sudden stop. I had just finished working in an orphanage and on the top of the mountain. See, I was on God's mission and He has so very clearly paved this path before me that I was going to be a missionary for the rest of my life.
Rolling. Screaming. Crashing. Upside down. That's what I recall from the accident. My friend shrieking at the top of her lungs; a sound that still haunts me to this very day. I remember the never ending noises of the van rolling down a cliff. I heard metal crashing against the boulders and trees and we hurdled downward. We knocked down huge trees, we hit boulders bigger than me. Down, down, down... I kept going. I silently said to myself it's okay Nikita, it's your time to die.
Then out of nowhere, we stopped rolling. Now we were teetering back and fourth just over another 100 foot fall. I opened my eyes.. well this isn't heaven I thought to myself. Then pain. Excruciating pain. I blacked out from the intense pain. Teetering. Minutes later, we weren't teetering anymore. The bus which laid on it's side against two trees four inches in diameter, had finally come to a stop. Something that can only be described as the very hand of God, swooping down to save us. Miracles after miracles happened that late afternoon of July 2nd 2010. As our bus was teetering trying to make it through those little four inch trees, there were all of a sudden a dozen Ethiopian villagers who appeared out of nowhere. At the time I was so grateful that someone had finally come to my rescue; I didn't stop to think the logistics of it all. The closest village from up was ten minutes north and then fifteen minutes south of us. These angels showed up minutes after the crash and prevented our van from going over the edge. They held down the van and they began to empty us from the metal wreckage which once used to be the van. They then proceeded to carry us back up the mountain we had just fallen from.
I next remember something that's etched into my mind forever... when I came to I was laying in a local hospital bed with a woman giving birth beside me. I was coming in and out of consciousness. I couldn't process what just had happened to me. I screamed in pain, but nobody was coming to my rescue. I screamed more and more, still thinking that I was in grave danger. I sat in excruciating pain all alone in the middle of Africa. I thought that I was split up from my team. I thought that I was the only one who survived the car accident. My stomach fell at such a thought, I had been so focused on myself that I forgot to wonder about my fellow passengers were doing. I froze. Death. No, it couldn't be possible. As my mind ran wild I didn't even realize that a doctor had came to see me and since I was so cut up from broken glass and landing half out the window, they poured purple stuff all over my body which was covered in blood and debris.
Finally some of our team that was in the van behind us came running in. Finally someone who I recognized. Praise the Lord. Things might actually be okay. Falling off a cliff over one hundred feet, I just might be a survivor of it. Survivor. Another name I picked up that day.
A few days after the accident I was told by my team leader that I wasn't allowed to be hurt or sick, that people would stop having sympathy for me, and eventually resent me. That I needed to suck it up because my pain wasn't as bad as others. It turned me off, how did they have the right to claim that my experience wasn't as bad as others. I just fell off a cliff. I mean that's a good excuse if I ever heard one to be crying out in pain. A good enough excuse to expect people to help me do the things that I couldn't do. But apparently because I was on leadership, I needed to put on a brave face for those younger than me. And boy did I try. But it left me not only physically scarred, but emotionally.
So the accident came and went, I spent a week in and out of the Ethiopian hospital. Now how were they going to get me home? I couldn't walk, I couldn't get up without blacking out from the pain. It was an awful week. But in the back of my mind I couldn't help but be grateful. God declared something magical that day. He proclaimed that my life was worth something to Him. That I had meaning and purpose that was far greater than who I was. It was Him who would make me great through my weakness He would shine. I forget this proclamation often. I don't remember to walk this out everyday, like God literally spared my life for a reason.
It was then time to fly home. Simple right? Well when you're in the middle of Africa, it's hard to just get home back to Canada. I ended up taking six flights to get home. I couldn't even sit up, so some of the team members gave their seats up for me so I could lay straight. They'll forever be my angels. I remember seeing my mother and father for the first time after the accident. I couldn't walk and they had been waiting for me. I remember how relieved I was that I saw someone familiar.
Chronic pain dominated my life for the next few months. I was bed ridden. There wasn't anything I could do, in that moment I couldn't even move my own body, how did God expect me to fight through this one? But I knew one thing for sure, my life should have been taken that afternoon, but God's mighty hand saved me from death. I would have to fight, I couldn't give up on Him, not after what He just did. Not after He declared that my life absolutely meant something to Him. So I decided that I was going to fight. I was going to fight through the pain. I didn't know how I'd do it. The pain was overwhelming; every single bruise, cut and muscle in my body ached and burned.
so that all sounds all great right?
fantastic! God saved me, proved to me that He loved me.
hooray! He saved the day.
But what's left of me now?
Pain & suffering define me.
My light that I had is dim.
The girl that I was before I was chronically ill vanished.
I think of her now and smile.
So much hope, full of so much potential..
and I guess if I really think about it.... maybe I still got it?
ten years strong.
i didn't know the impact of what had happened.
and to this day i am unsure if i truly know the ramifications of the accident.
you see, if you know me, you'll know already that my life was tragically forever changed in ethiopia, africa. when the van that i was in tumbled off the side of the cliff
Say what? I fell off a cliff in the middle Africa? Yes, I guess that needs some explaining. I was in Africa to end poverty and especially work with the children of homelessness. I was there for a mission: fix the the brokenhearted, set the captives free and clothe those who couldn't do it themselves. I naively thought that I was going to save the world. I thought that if the world needed another Mother Teresa; here I was to take over the position. As her value was to work with the poorest of the poor, as would I. My big plan to save the world however, came to a very sudden stop. I had just finished working in an orphanage and on the top of the mountain. See, I was on God's mission and He has so very clearly paved this path before me that I was going to be a missionary for the rest of my life.
Rolling. Screaming. Crashing. Upside down. That's what I recall from the accident. My friend shrieking at the top of her lungs; a sound that still haunts me to this very day. I remember the never ending noises of the van rolling down a cliff. I heard metal crashing against the boulders and trees and we hurdled downward. We knocked down huge trees, we hit boulders bigger than me. Down, down, down... I kept going. I silently said to myself it's okay Nikita, it's your time to die.
Then out of nowhere, we stopped rolling. Now we were teetering back and fourth just over another 100 foot fall. I opened my eyes.. well this isn't heaven I thought to myself. Then pain. Excruciating pain. I blacked out from the intense pain. Teetering. Minutes later, we weren't teetering anymore. The bus which laid on it's side against two trees four inches in diameter, had finally come to a stop. Something that can only be described as the very hand of God, swooping down to save us. Miracles after miracles happened that late afternoon of July 2nd 2010. As our bus was teetering trying to make it through those little four inch trees, there were all of a sudden a dozen Ethiopian villagers who appeared out of nowhere. At the time I was so grateful that someone had finally come to my rescue; I didn't stop to think the logistics of it all. The closest village from up was ten minutes north and then fifteen minutes south of us. These angels showed up minutes after the crash and prevented our van from going over the edge. They held down the van and they began to empty us from the metal wreckage which once used to be the van. They then proceeded to carry us back up the mountain we had just fallen from.
I next remember something that's etched into my mind forever... when I came to I was laying in a local hospital bed with a woman giving birth beside me. I was coming in and out of consciousness. I couldn't process what just had happened to me. I screamed in pain, but nobody was coming to my rescue. I screamed more and more, still thinking that I was in grave danger. I sat in excruciating pain all alone in the middle of Africa. I thought that I was split up from my team. I thought that I was the only one who survived the car accident. My stomach fell at such a thought, I had been so focused on myself that I forgot to wonder about my fellow passengers were doing. I froze. Death. No, it couldn't be possible. As my mind ran wild I didn't even realize that a doctor had came to see me and since I was so cut up from broken glass and landing half out the window, they poured purple stuff all over my body which was covered in blood and debris.
Finally some of our team that was in the van behind us came running in. Finally someone who I recognized. Praise the Lord. Things might actually be okay. Falling off a cliff over one hundred feet, I just might be a survivor of it. Survivor. Another name I picked up that day.
A few days after the accident I was told by my team leader that I wasn't allowed to be hurt or sick, that people would stop having sympathy for me, and eventually resent me. That I needed to suck it up because my pain wasn't as bad as others. It turned me off, how did they have the right to claim that my experience wasn't as bad as others. I just fell off a cliff. I mean that's a good excuse if I ever heard one to be crying out in pain. A good enough excuse to expect people to help me do the things that I couldn't do. But apparently because I was on leadership, I needed to put on a brave face for those younger than me. And boy did I try. But it left me not only physically scarred, but emotionally.
So the accident came and went, I spent a week in and out of the Ethiopian hospital. Now how were they going to get me home? I couldn't walk, I couldn't get up without blacking out from the pain. It was an awful week. But in the back of my mind I couldn't help but be grateful. God declared something magical that day. He proclaimed that my life was worth something to Him. That I had meaning and purpose that was far greater than who I was. It was Him who would make me great through my weakness He would shine. I forget this proclamation often. I don't remember to walk this out everyday, like God literally spared my life for a reason.
It was then time to fly home. Simple right? Well when you're in the middle of Africa, it's hard to just get home back to Canada. I ended up taking six flights to get home. I couldn't even sit up, so some of the team members gave their seats up for me so I could lay straight. They'll forever be my angels. I remember seeing my mother and father for the first time after the accident. I couldn't walk and they had been waiting for me. I remember how relieved I was that I saw someone familiar.
Chronic pain dominated my life for the next few months. I was bed ridden. There wasn't anything I could do, in that moment I couldn't even move my own body, how did God expect me to fight through this one? But I knew one thing for sure, my life should have been taken that afternoon, but God's mighty hand saved me from death. I would have to fight, I couldn't give up on Him, not after what He just did. Not after He declared that my life absolutely meant something to Him. So I decided that I was going to fight. I was going to fight through the pain. I didn't know how I'd do it. The pain was overwhelming; every single bruise, cut and muscle in my body ached and burned.
so that all sounds all great right?
fantastic! God saved me, proved to me that He loved me.
hooray! He saved the day.
But what's left of me now?
Pain & suffering define me.
My light that I had is dim.
The girl that I was before I was chronically ill vanished.
I think of her now and smile.
So much hope, full of so much potential..
and I guess if I really think about it.... maybe I still got it?
ten years strong.
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