As expected, I've had another traumatic hospital experience that's prompted me to write this blog post. I wish that I wrote my best blog posts during times when I'm on the upswing in my faith and filled with overwhelming hope and good news; but if I've learned anything over the last four years as a quadriplegic, the hardest times have been the most fruitful times in terms of my spiritual growth.
I remember the day well. I wore a homemade dress—gold on the bottom, black and gold plaid on the top. I felt such a sense of relief as I walked down to the river to be baptized, knowing I would walk back out with my sins forgiven. I wondered what it would "feel" like to have God's spirit in me. That was 50 years ago — June 22, 1967.