VL - Issue 17 - August 2015

Time on My Hands by
Wendy Petzold
I was a normal
teenager making
plans for life after
high school when
suddenly, two days
before my seventeenth
birthday, I found my life
circumstances completely
altered. Three acquaintances
and I had planned to tour
the campus at University of
Green Bay. We started out early
that morning in slightly snowy
conditions. That didn’t worry
us—we were, after all, Wisconsin
girls. It wasn’t long, however,
before we found ourselves in whiteout
conditions. We couldn’t see but a few feet in front
of us.
I remember telling the driver of the car to slow
down, but it was too late. She rear-ended a snowplow
on the highway going 75 miles an hour. In an instant,
everything came to a halt, and then there was dead
silence.
I was the only one still conscious in the car, and
I knew immediately something was seriously wrong
with me. I couldn’t feel my legs. They were numb, and
I couldn’t move them. I remember wanting my daddy.
That moment changed my life forever. I was
paralyzed from the waist down. I would never walk
again. With the Lord’s help, however, and with the
help of many friends, I emerged victoriously from that
accident. Against predictions, I live a very active and
blessed life. I married my best friend from high school,
Andrew. We have two amazing children, and this year
we will celebrate twenty-three years of marriage.
Like many women, my days revolve around being
a wife and mother and the countless things that go
along with those roles. Dishes that need to be done,
endless piles of laundry, grocery shopping, schedules
to coordinate, chauffeuring duties—the list goes
on. Throw in a prayer group, Bible study, volunteer
activities, and my involvement with two nonprofits,
and I’d say my days are pretty full.
I’m pretty much like any other mom, except I rely
on my wheelchair to move about. Despite my injuries
from that accident, I’ve been amazingly blessed with
great health and no major issues relating to my
disability.
Until Super Bowl Sunday, 2011. The Packers were
playing the Pittsburgh Steelers, and I just didn’t feel
like myself. I had a fever and couldn’t enjoy the game.
The malaise hung around, and by Thursday, I
had a 104-degree fever. I decided I’d better get to
the emergency room. I packed my overnight bag,
somehow knowing that I wouldn’t be coming home
anytime soon. Within fifteen minutes of checking
into the hospital, a doctor was performing surgery,
and I had begun a faith journey like none I had ever
experienced before.
A severe infection had made its way into my ischial
tuberosity bone. Complete bed rest was required so
that my body could heal. For months I remained in the
hospital, fighting this stubborn infection.
At first, my thoughts were consumed with “I don’t
have time for this. I have things to do, children to care
for, and volunteer commitments to fulfill! How can I lie
around and wait for this to heal?”
The infection was definitely not part of my plan
for my life. But you know what? It didn’t take God
by surprise at all. While I don’t believe He sent this
infection into my life, He nonetheless used it to bring
glory to Himself by working in my heart and through
my situation. Ultimately, God caused everything to
work together for my good, just like Romans 8:28 said
He would. One thing is for sure: bed rest will give you
something very precious—time.
Day after day, I sent my kids to school with a friend
and then lay on my back for seven hours, waiting for
them to come home. Waiting was the most difficult
thing I had ever done. Rather than grow discouraged,
I decided to use this gift of time to study God’s Word
and pray. As a result, I grew closer to Him and began
to hear from Him more.
God speaks to His children in many ways. He
chose music to speak to me
during this trying time. At times,
song lyrics pierced my heart, like
God was speaking directly to me.
Lincoln Brewster’s “Everlasting
God” became my theme song.
Whenever I felt alone, I played this
song, and it drew me closer to my
heavenly Father. It had a funny way
of popping up on the radio, too, just
when I needed it most. It would lift my
spirits as it reminded me that God was
right there with me and that He hadn’t
left me, even while I was lying flat on
my back.
The song promises that “strength will rise as we
wait upon the Lord.” That is precisely what I had to do
while I waited for my infection to dissipate. I couldn’t
change my circumstances; I couldn’t heal myself; I
couldn’t free myself from the bondage of that hospital
bed. I could only wait for God to move in my situation,
for Him to do a mighty work in my body.
And my strength did rise. Though everything
seemed to be going against me—I was bedridden,
missing out on life, not able to do the things I loved
the most—God’s never-ending strength kept me
going. He helped me face each day, each challenge,
one step at a time. He was just as faithful as He had
been when I was first paralyzed.
Every day brought a new adventure with God. I
couldn’t wait to see how He would bless and use me.
Some days, a special scripture would jump right off the
page and into my heart. Other days, a new nurse or
nurse’s assistant would cross my path, and that would
lead to a blessed encounter. God reminded me daily
that He was at work, even while I lay on my back.
Isaiah 40:28–31 says:
The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of all the
earth. He never grows weak or weary. No one can
measure the depths of his understanding. He gives
power to the weak and strength to the powerless.
Even youths will become weak and tired, and young
men will fall in exhaustion. But those who trust in
the Lord will find new strength. They will soar high
on wings like eagles. They will run and not grow
weary. They will walk and not faint.
More times than I can count, I received a note or
a card quoting these verses during my recovery. They
were constant reminders that God, in His perfect timing,
would help me soar again. The eagle quickly became
24 www.kojministries.org