For me, athletics was always the most important aspect of my life. At fifty-five years old, my height was six feet-six. I’d just applied for the Michigan Senior Men Olympic Volleyball Team. There was good possibility that I would make it.
Then tragedy struck. After a motorcycle accident, my left leg was broken. The doctors recommended amputation. Sarah Scholl, a young assistant physician, said that I was discussing my life without a leg with friends and family prior to the surgery. “Andy, what kind of golf balls do you play?”
It was an absurd question that I answered, but she understood. “Titleist Pro V1.”A 12-pack Titleist Pro V1 golf ball set was delivered to my bedroom the next day. Sarah’s gift brought me some hope.
Surprisingly, after my operation I woke up to see that I had two legs with ten toes. Doctors determined that there was enough blood flow to save my leg. There would be months of recovery. Following a second operation, I nearly died at the table.
Sarah helped me get to an ambulance once it was safe to transfer to rehabilitation. “I have a favor to ask of you,”She said. “My father died some time ago. When I get married, I want you to walk me down the aisle.”
“Sarah, it’s doubtful I’ll ever be walking anywhere. Besides, you don’t even have a boyfriend.”
“Someday I will,”She said.
Love and hope
John Wilder, my former volleyball coach, called me at my rehabilitation hospital. “Congratulations, Andy, you made the team! You’re playing in the Senior Olympics.”
I shared my story with him and then waited for his response. He said that he missed having me on the team. Wilder kept me stunned: “You get better. I’ll play you if you can just stand up.”
He spoke words that ignited a fire in me. My rehabilitation was a success. Seven months later, I was ready to compete in the Senior Olympics. John made good on his promise and put me into the Senior Olympics, even though I couldn’t stand.
My turn came to serve. I glanced at Kay, my wife, who was seated in the stands. My athletic competitions were usually ignored by her. She was right, I didn’t fault her. I always prioritized sports in my life. Kay wasn’t just present today, but she was also beaming. It was as if I could not believe my eyes when I saw her beautiful smile. This was the moment I realized why God allowed it. This was because He truly cared about my marriage.
I had enough energy to give my all. That game was won, and so on. The competition intensified and the coach was forced to remove me. However, our team won the gold medal.
Death is the end.
My health was improving at home. My liver stopped working suddenly. The doctors used a shunt to bypass it during major surgery. Although this saved my life it caused unfiltered blood to reach my brain, which made my hands shake so much I had to lie on my stomach. After waiting, I submitted my application for a liver donation.
One year passed, and then it was two. There was no call from the transplant center. Is it possible to ask for a transplant without being called? Someone had to pass away in order for me to be able to live. Is there anything that makes me more than my husband or father?
It occurred to me one day that I wasn’t alone in needing to be killed so that I could live. Jesus did that for me. God loves me enough to trust him with my life.
Kay and me learned, in what appeared to be an inspired conversation by God, that Indiana has twice as many organ donors registered as Michigan. After renting an apartment in Indianapolis we began to apply for transplants. We received the call within two months: I had been selected to be one of 10 transplant candidates.
Through the valley
Doctors were amazed at the speed with which I recovered. First time in five year I signed up for a magazine with my own name. However, I was too focused on rehabilitation. Doing sit-ups, the mesh in my abdominal muscles was ripped. Doctors put mesh into my abdomen to hold the muscles. The tube was then inserted through my nose into my stomach and down to my abdomen in order to drain fluids.
After my surgery, I needed to remain in one position in bed. It was so slow that time passed by. SecondIt seemed like the time stood still as I pressed my hand against the dial. It took a day…two, three days…how many more days would this torture last? Never before had I felt so miserable and hopeless.
The fourth night was the longest of my lives. I called out to God at 4:00 am. “Lord, take me! I can’t do this any longer.”Kay stood beside me, as she has been since the accident. She murmured. “Nor can I.”Kay and me both gave up. The valley was at its lowest point, the deepest pit we could see.
Our surgeon entered the room unexpectedly 15 minutes later and stated, “I woke up in the middle of the night with the feeling something had changed.”He examined my vitals. “We can take the tube out.”At the end, I was already walking. A month later I returned to full-time work.
Joy can be found in jumping and walking
So I knew that my days of volleyball were done. My exercise therapist came up with a solution. So that I could jump, she strapped my knees to her ankles. Then I was able to do two jumps, then six, and finally twenty. So excited, I called an old volleyball coach: “Hey, Tim, I can jump!”
“That’s great! We’ve got a volleyball tournament in Milwaukee in two weeks. Come and play?”It seemed impossible, but I made the decision to attend two weeks later. My old team mates cheered me on when I arrived. It was an intense scene.
While the first five games were hard, I was able to complete the sixth set with a solid kill. I got game point after a couple of minutes. I learned a valuable lesson from that experience: Never waste your time dreaming of the impossible. Do your best, and the impossible may happen.
John Wilder was my coach in the beginning. I thanked him for his inspiration after the game. “You’re the one who deserves the credit,”John said. “You never gave up.”
“Actually, John, I did give up, but God never gave up on me.”
Seven years after my accident in 2009, Sarah Scholl sent me an email: “I have a boyfriend-will you come?”
Walking down the aisle, not in wheelchairs, was such a pleasure!
Andy DeVries, Calvin College’s director of Development in Grand Rapids (Michigan), is Andy.
Under the name caringbridge.org, you can find his complete journal. “andydevries.”
More than 250,000 people have visited his website.
Andy DeVries 2011