From Brokenness to Beauty: A Story of Redemption

Most people think August 31st, 2005, was the worst day of my life.

But I remember it as the day God gave me a message of hope—and a life I never expected.

That day, my dad, brother, and I went to Grand Bay, Alabama, to help clean up my grandmother’s yard after Hurricane Katrina. The work was hard—clearing debris, cutting fallen trees—but we were making progress. A couple hours in, I walked over to help my dad take down a damaged pine tree. The storm had snapped the tree from 30 feet to about 10–12 feet.

As I helped guide it down, I slipped.

The tree twisted unexpectedly and landed square across my back, crushing me into the ground. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move. My arms barely reached forward, grasping for anything—grasping for life.

My dad rushed over. He tried to pull me out, but I didn’t budge. He fell to the ground, unable to move me.

In that moment, I knew.
This was it.
I was ready. Calm.
Waiting for my final breath.

But then, something stirred.
My dad felt prompted to try again.
He pulled—and I slipped free.

I knew instantly that I was broken.

No feeling below my arms. My body was contorted.
Yet I also knew… I had been spared.

For 45 more minutes I laid there—ribs broken, lung punctured and filling with blood, spine shattered—waiting for a helicopter. When I arrived at the hospital, doctors were stunned. They’d never seen a spine so damaged on someone still alive. My lung had held more blood than they thought possible without bursting.

That day—just two weeks after my 16th birthday—my journey with a T5 complete spinal cord injury began.

But the story doesn’t end there.

On August 31st, 2016, eleven years to the day, my wife and I were awaiting the arrival of our first child.
A miracle in every way.
Doctors weren’t sure I’d be able to have children. People questioned it from day one.

But God had already answered that question. Eleven years earlier.
The day He whispered, “You will live and prosper with a message of hope and faith.”

That’s what this post is about.

It’s not just a story of injury and survival.
It’s a story of redemption.
Of suffering turned into strength.
Of mourning turned into miraculous joy.

August 31st may have begun with crushed bones and breathless fear—but it became a day of purpose and promise.

And I believe the same is possible for you.

If you're in the middle of your own pain, I want to encourage you:

• God can use your suffering to grow endurance, character, and hope.

• What feels like the end might be the beginning of something greater.

• He doesn’t waste pain. He brings beauty from ashes.

August 31st will always mark the day my life changed forever.

But not just for worse.

It also marks the day I received a new calling, a new message, and—years later—a new life in the form of our firstborn.

May your darkest day become the beginning of your brightest story.
You matter. Your story matters.
And you were made for more.