The Miracle Named Meagan

Somewhere between 10:30 pm and midnight on October 1st, 2008, life drastically changed for a young man and young lady. While driving to a relative's home, their automobile spun out of control. The car flipped and spun several times. The young man was trapped inside the car with a broken leg. The young lady, Meagan, was thrown violently from the car.

Meagan laid on the ground a few feet from the car unconscious until early the next morning. She was carried by helicopter to a local hospital with critical injuries to her vertebrae, broken bones in her pelvis, arms, ankle, and elbow, and a ruptured spleen.

Days, weeks, and months passed by while Meagan struggled with her injuries. Progress was slow. An occasional reaction to a whisper in her ear or a squeeze of her hand. A grunt. A moan. Her eyes opened just enough to keep her loved ones' hopes alive.

Meagan endured numerous surgeries and complications from the injuries as well as cellulitis from the ant bites she incurred while laying on the ground that night.

I visited Meagan in her hospital room in late November or early December. She struggled to keep her limbs under control. Her feet and hands only wanted to curl up. She did not respond to my attempts to talk to her. As I watched her kick and looked into what appeared to be vacant eyes, I wanted to help her, but I felt so helpless. She is near the same age as my own daughter.

I talked to her and prayed with her, but I left feeling a heavy burden. My faith was weak. I feared she might remain in that condition for the rest of her life.

Yesterday was Easter Sunday, 2009. It has been six months since Meagan's accident. She was at church with us!

As I gave the invitation at the end of the morning worship service, I looked over to my left and saw a small group huddled at the altar, but I didn't know who it was.

A few minutes later, Meagan came up out of that little prayer huddle, and with her mother's help, she walked toward me with a huge smile on her face. She had just prayed to receive Christ as her personal Savior!

God is still in the miracle business. He proved it to me again on resurrection Sunday. He resurrected a broken body from a hospital bed and gave her the will to fight and the strength to walk.

Yesterday, Meagan walked to Jesus and gave herself to Him in such beauty and grace. While Meagan's body continues to recover and heal, her soul is now completely alive and restored! Over 2,000 eyes were wet with tears of joy. We saw a resurrection miracle on Easter Sunday!

He has risen! He's alive! He still redeems. He still heals. He will never leave us nor forsake us. October 1st, 2008 was Meagan's "Friday." It looked like life and hope were almost over for her. But April 12th, 2009 was her "Sunday!" Hope is alive!

I believe!
Perry Crisp

Passion Anyone?

Passion. No word captures that week of Jesus' life leading up to Easter Sunday better than passion.

It took passion to willingly walk mile after mile toward the city of Jerusalem when Jesus knew that He would be brutalized and murdered.

It took passion to ride into town to shouts of adoration and praise when Jesus knew that those same voices would turn to shouts of violence and hatred.

It took passion to enter the Temple and stir the indignation of the religious hypocrites knowing it would compel them to plan His painful death.

It took passion to love Judas.

It took passion to sit at the table with the disciples and eat a passover meal knowing that the entire meal symbolized the events that were about to take place in just a few hours.

It took passion to bend over the dirty feet of the disciples and wash them with water knowing that His body would soon be stretched out upon a cross and His blood would soon be poured out over their dirty, sinful souls.

It took passion to pray and surrender to the Father's plan in the garden knowing that the Temple guards were on their way.

It took passion to let men grab Him with the human power of their flesh and think they held Him when He knew the unlimited, divine power He held over them.

It took passion to hear the lies and endure the mockery of six illegal trials and false witnesses when He knew the truth of His innocence and their guilt.

It took passion to stand still while bloodthirsty men pummeled Him with their fists, spit into His face, ripped out His beard, tore His flesh with a whip, and mocked His name and authority while His angels stood and watched -- wanting to protect Him and defend Him, yet obeying His sovereign command not to intervene.

It took passion to carry the cross, endure the nails in His hands and feet, the thorns upon His brow, and be hoisted up before the world He loved in ridicule and humilty knowing that they did not understand one very important fact: It was His love for them...for us...that held Him on that cross. Not the nails.

It took passion to allow the horrible cruelty of crucifixion to play itself out without taking a divine shortcut.

It took passion to stay in the grave three days.

Passion. The same passion it took for Jesus to endure that week is still in His heart for you. He is passionate for you. He loves you. He did all that He did for you.

Remember His Passion...
Perry Crisp