TESTIMONY: Trust isn’t trust until you let go

Drew said goodbye to his wife, Grace, and their two little girls, and then left for work. The central Pennsylvania, October sky was overcast as he got on his bicycle – a typical mode of transportation for his 10-mile commute to the capital city.

Just a few weeks prior, he had ridden in a 100-mile charity ride. He was fit, strong, and feeling great. Today was only his third ride on the new racing bike he had purchased at a great price on eBay. He was enjoying the journey, thinking about some minor tweaks that would make the bike even better.

As the morning sun burned off the clouds and its rays beamed down, Drew stopped at a traffic light and replaced his yellow lens sunglasses with his dark ones. Then he set off again, cruising along at 25 m.p.h. He crested a hill and then began coasting down the other side, riding in the middle of the lane to avoid the opening of parked car doors. That’s when he saw a car, coming from the opposite direction, lurching at passing cars, clearly intending to make a left turn as soon as possible.

Drew moved over into the double yellow line and could see the headlight from his bicycle flashing on the chrome of the man’s car as it began turning in front of him. He had to think quickly. Should he turn right and allow the car to hit him from behind? He couldn’t turn left – the oncoming traffic had no idea he would be coming. Hitting his brakes would surely send him flying. There was no way out.

Just before the impact, he could do nothing but cry out, “I trust you, Lord.”

_________________________________

Growing up in the 1980s, Drew first learned to ride when he was four years old, and quickly fell in love with it and the independence it gave him.

However, he soon realized he needed more freedom than his bicycle could provide.

At one evening church service, when he was 10 years old, he remembers looking out the window, watching the headlights from passing cars reveal the falling rain, wishing to be home playing with his Star Wars toys. He was glad when the closing prayer began.

“I dutifully bowed my head like everybody else,” he says. That’s when the speaker explained that Jesus Christ could come at any time, or they could die on their way home, and those who didn’t know him would spend eternity in Hell.

“I could’ve sworn that somebody kicked the pew behind me,” Drew remembers. “I popped my head up and looked around, but there was no one behind me. Everyone else’s head was bowed, and it occurred to me that the Lord was dealing with me.”

He tossed and turned the whole night.

“I must have asked the Lord Jesus to save me a thousand times, trying to get the words right.”

When he got up the next morning, his mom could tell that he hadn’t slept well. She asked him what was wrong.

“Mommy, I’m not saved,” he replied. “I need to be.”

She talked her son through a prayer, asking the Lord to be his Savior. He was baptized not long after that. But Drew’s new life in Christ was soon tested by a split in his family’s church, and a growing desire to be more like his friends and less like the “very pious and churchgoing” boy he had to be on Sundays. After graduation, he joined the Army, where there were even more temptations. He admits, “I started drifting away from the Lord.”

In his early 30s, Drew returned home from his second tour in Iraq.

“I was trying to reintegrate into society and not doing a very good job of it.” As he struggled with drinking, he also began attending Sunday morning church services, Bible studies, and prayer meetings. But he knew things weren’t right. He had received suicide training in the army, and he began to see signs in himself. On Feb. 15, 2007, he dropped off food he had made for a banquet at his church. He declined invitations to stay, and his mom hugged him and told him she loved him. Drew felt nothing but coldness.

He hurried to his car, and before he reached the end of the driveway, he began sobbing.

“I hated me, I hated my life,” he says. “I was a hypocrite. I hated everything about me.”

As he drove home in the rain, he couldn’t tell if it was his tears or the raindrops that made it hard to see. He began calling his teammates from Iraq, and then his siblings. Unable to reach anyone, he decided to go home and read the Psalms, hoping they would bring comfort. But each one he read only caused more conviction: “…my sins are before me”… “only against you have I sinned”…“my foolishness is ever in your eyes…”

Overcome, he walked to his bedroom and grabbed his Glock 27 with a 4.5-pound trigger pull and no safety.

“I had the gun in my mouth, and as sure as you can hear my voice, I heard the Lord say, ‘Stop’. I knew who I was dealing with, and I dropped the gun and just wept. I looked at the ceiling and said, ‘If you can do anything with this, I’m yours’.”

A radical transformation followed.

“I had this insatiable appetite for the Scriptures. As soon as I was reading it, I could hear Him talking to me again. I started feverishly writing notes, and journaling.”

“It was so fulfilled spiritually. I really felt like my life with Christ was on fire.”

It quickly became evident that his spiritual gift was evangelism. As he ministered at a rescue mission, did open-air preaching, and began working at Christian camps, it felt so natural to share the gospel, and he saw many souls saved.

_________________________

When he left for work the morning of Oct. 31, 2017, he never expected this beautiful fall morning would turn tragic.

After the collision, he remembers nothing except being loaded into an ambulance and intense pain coursing through his body. At the point of impact, his body was generating 5,000 pounds of force, and he had totaled the man’s car.

When he arrived at the hospital, he laid on his back, struggling with each breath. He stared at the ceiling, listened to muffled voices, and would see a nurse or doctor intermittently appear above his face to explain what they were going to do next.

He had sustained fractures in his C-1, C-2, T-4, T-7 and T-9 vertebra, as well as “related ribs”, according to the official report. He also shattered his left leg below the knee and sustained deep cuts on his leg from sharp pieces of the carbon fiber of his bike’s mangled frame. He was only millimeters away from hitting the femoral artery.

He spent a week at the hospital, with Grace by his side. He had three surgeries and then spent another three weeks at the rehabilitation hospital, and then was finally able to come home just days before Thanksgiving. He still had months of healing ahead of him, but his faith remained strong throughout. He never got angry or bitter toward God. He did, however, wonder about what his life would now look like. Would he ever walk again? Even in the unknown, he was determined to praise God. His heart for evangelism grew, and even from his hospital bed, he shared the gospel with his caregivers. He continued to be a light at the many therapy sessions that followed. While his earlier evangelistic efforts had been more planned out, he was now becoming more in tune with every-day opportunities to share the hope of Christ with those around him.

He now finds life more enjoyable, and has learned to rest in simply seeking and worshiping God, allowing Him to purge pride and pour out His presence. Drew now knows better than ever how to look at difficult circumstances and know that, just as He trusted God the moment before his collision, he can continue to trust Him.

Many ask why God allows bad things to happen to good people. But Drew says the right question is really, “Why does a good God not punish me the way that I deserve, because I’m not a good person?”

His ways are higher than our ways. His goodness is so much better than we can imagine.

“Take heart,” he says to those who might be struggling. “If you know where you’re going, and you’re confident in who Christ is and what He’s done for you, none of this matters. We can get beside ourselves worrying about circumstances, but He’s a good God, He’s a wise God, and He’s a sovereign God. And He’s working all those things for the good of those that love Him.”