The Prodigal- Jon’s Story
Posted in
January 2008
This was written by
Jon, a friend of Luz Leigh. Jon is a quadriplegic who
lives in Florida and has caregivers who see to his
needs a portion of each day. Jon’s sister and her
family live in his home with him. This story was
originally written about 2 years ago and except for a
few grammatical corrections, these are his words. With
Jon’s permission, the corrections were made for
clarity and did not change the intent of the story.
Although I have only
known Jon for a short time, I have come to see a very
loving, caring, dedicated Christian man. He wants to
encourage others, never drawing attention to his
disabilities. Jon uses an on-screen keyboard. These
are used by individuals who need an alternative to the
physical keyboard. Using two fingers, Jon types his
words, At the time I met Jon in early 2008 he had just
celebrated his 39th
birthday. Almost 17 of those years he has been
paralyzed. Now read what Jon wrote about his life….his
testimony.
It all started when
I was 2 or 3 years old. My dad was involved in a car
accident. His truck was T-boned by another car. He was
ok, just was in the hospital for a couple days for
observation. I can't remember much, I just remember
him sitting in a wheelchair waiting for us to pick him
up. He looked like he hadn't shaved for a week.
I would pray for him
all the time, Even though I had not had the salvation
experience. See, he slipped a disc in his lower back
and fractured a vertebra. I don't remember when
actually, I just remember him walking around like
Bella Logosi in The Mummy. Always dragging one leg.
Well I went to a
private Christian school. Dad busted his rump, just so
he could afford it, because the public school
education system was bad and getting worse. He also
wanted us kids to have our mom at home. My parents
also didn't want us kids to be latch key children. So
dad worked from before dawn until 7 or 8 at night.
Now I remember
sitting on his shoulders and playing with his flat top
haircut as we walked to church. Which we did a few
times. Our church was just down the street and across
a major highway. Now it wasn't very major, but to a
little kid it might as well been freeway. I was
involved in couple of children’s activities, but I was
so shy, I just liked my couple friends and kids in the
neighborhood.
I would go
everywhere with my dad. I was a daddy’s boy. It's like
momma’s boy, except I was my dad’s shadow. Now don't
get me wrong. I loved my mom immensely, but if dad was
available, I wanted him. I been like that all my
life. When I was a baby, if I had an earache or
something, I wanted dad to rock me. Please don't think
bad of my mom; I just wanted dad.
When I was about 6
years old or so, I got mad with some kid at church;
for what, I don't remember; but instead of dealing
with it, I left the church grounds without telling
anybody. I was going home. It was around 8 o'clock at
night. Another case of my temper getting the best of
me. Everyone was looking for me and calling me. I just
ignored them. Well my parents found me when I was half
way home. I lost my temper and my dad helped me find
it.
Same kind of thing
happened when I was 4; not same kind of incident
exactly. I had lost my temper, but that time I screwed
myself. My dad was replacing the asphalt in
driveway. .well when you put asphalt down you set it
on fire so it melts down and also bonds to the old
stuff.
My dad had an old,
heavy tamper. Little genius that I was; I saw dad
trying to put the fire out, I thought. So I threw a
handful of sand on it. Not a good thing to do. Well
dad tells me not to that. A few minutes later I did it
again. This time he popped my bottom. Nothing was hurt
except my pride. Well I took off running, with my eyes
shut. Right into dad’s open truck door. I busted my
forehead open. At the time it wasn't funny, but now,
looking back it makes me laugh hysterically every time
I think about it. Don't think that my parents were bad
people. I did it to myself with my temper. I had a
stubborn streak a mile long, still do. I just have
more patience now, (like I have a choice?)
I had a great
childhood. My dad use to let me sit in his lap and put
my hands on steering wheel as we drove around
town. I'm sure some people that are reading this are
saying, HE SHOULDN'T HAVE DONE THAT! Well hey, it was
my childhood and I loved it! By the time I was 7 I was
big enough for me to drive with him sitting in
passenger seat while I would drive to the dump. I
learned to drive just by watching my dad.
That was including
vehicles with a stick shift too. His work truck had a
column shift. When I was 15, I was helping my sisters
learn to parallel park; I never officially learned to
drive a stick shift vehicle, I just did it; And they
still can't drive stick shift vehicles.
At the age of 5 or
so, we had a man come to our school and share the
message about the crucifixion, death, burial and
resurrection, of JESUS CHRIST. It was the Wednesday
before Easter Sunday and after I got back to the
classroom, my teacher gave an invitation to invite
JESUS CHRST into my heart. I wanted that more time
more than anything. I guess that God has had his hand
on me for my entire life.
When I was 5 or 6 a
friend in my class had an accident with his dad’s
gun. He was playing with his dad’s shotgun while he
was at work; he dropped it and it went off, and it
blew his shoulder apart. His mother was one of my
dad’s customers. So I went on a service call with my
dad, to his house, and visited him for a couple of
hours.
I have always been a
compassionate person. My dad, at that time, was a
television repairman, and back then people made house
calls.
I was almost
molested by a young girl in the neighborhood, because
I'm a helpful person. She said she was looking for a
cat. She said she saw it in my next door neighbor’s
back yard. They coincidentally were not home. Well, I
did kiss her a few times. My dad fortunately started
yelling for me; or more had happened; I was only maybe
3 or 4.I still started thinking about sex too early.
Maybe it all started way back then. (My attraction to
sin)
When day I was about
7 my dad takes us out to sandy, dirty piece of land
out in the woods west of town. We walk about and look
all over it, and he asks us if we would like live out
here one day. We all say sure. Not really thinking he
is serious. Now I love being out in the woods, but I
had no idea he was serious about it. He had a back
still and I figured he needed to be near the
city. Little did I know how much it would become over
crowded with sidewalks, traffic lights and stop signs;
and now it's all paved.
He bought 5
acres. So for about the next 4 years my dad and mom,
with a little help from my uncle, built a nice 2 story
house, separate garage and a convenience apartment
behind it. He built the apartment for my
grandmother. After a few years my grandmother moved to
FORT MYERS, FLORIDA. and so now we had a good guest
house, for when company came for a visit.
My 10th birthday was
my first birthday in the house my dad built. We even
started going to a new Baptist church. We were raised
Baptists, but really I guess we were non
denominational; because my attitude was, GOD did it
before and he can do it again; NO BIG DEAL!
That was just the
way I felt. I remember all the Old Testament Bible
stories I had heard in school, and I wasn't surprised
by the miraculous. One Sunday morning my dad woke up
very excited…. the reason? He had woke up and without
even thinking about it, he sat up straight in bed,
without any pain in his back. See for years he had to
roll onto his side, and push himself into a sitting
position using his arms; and my mom had to put his
pants on, up to his knees. She also had to put his
socks and shoes on for him. Then he would go to work.
The doctor tried to
make stop working and stay in bed, but he told the
doctor that he would hurt whether or not he worked, so
he would rather work. My dad couldn't stand not doing
something.
Now I suppose the
reason my parents didn't tell anybody about his
healing, except friends, because Baptists didn't
really believe that miracles happen, I guess; or maybe
I just was never around when they talked about it. I
didn't tell people just because it wasn't that big of
a deal to me. I GOD SAID IT, I BELIEVED IT, THAT
SETTLES IT! In my opinion.
Well my dad and I
did a lot of work on the church; my mom was the
treasurer/bookkeeper and when we started attending
that church it had a bare concrete floor and about 4
rows of mismatched chairs. My dad was in prison
ministry, mom would buy the prisoners children gifts
at Christmas time; not with her money; she managed the
churches money. I'm not saying my sisters didn't do
anything; just I was a kid; I wasn't concerned with
what my sisters did. I JUST DON'T REMEMBER! Well I was
baptized when I was 11, in that church. That church
was a big part of my life. I'd seen it grow from just
bare floors and walls, to carpeting and many members.
One day a very large
man was baptized in our baptismal pool and his weight
broke the drain and the water went all under the
stage. .My dad volunteered to fix it. He crawled under
the baptism tank to replace the pipe. From laying on
his back and with his head turned at a strange
angle. He got a pinched nerve in his neck. He was in
severe agony.
He went to
chiropractor every week with no improvement. He
decided to accompany my mom to a women's AGLOW
meeting; because he had a doctor’s appointment later
and he was in such pain he needed something to occupy
his mind. I guess being Baptists we were never taught
about healing and miracles. But we weren't against
them either; and Baptists aren't very keen on women
preachers.
The guest speaker
asked people if anybody needed healing? My dad
reluctantly got in the line. He kept stepping back,
letting people go ahead of him; until it finally
became his turn. He told me that after the lady laid
hands on him, he don't even know what she said, until
she had him remove his neck brace and move his head
around. He was completely healed. He went to the
chiropractor’s office that afternoon; and he poked,
prodded and twisted. He said to my dad; I DON'T
UNDERSTAND IT, BUT EVERYTHING IS BACK IN PLACE!
That Sunday us kids
didn't go to church, but my parents did. When my
parents got home, they told us that the pastor said
that healing was from the devil when my dad’s friend
stood up and announced that my dad’s neck had been
healed.
That was when I
started going kinda wild. Our family and a few other
families left that church and started attending an
ASSEMBLY OF GOD church, (We were given the left foot
of fellowship.) I wasn't rude or nothing. I just
stopped attending church on a regular basis. Then year
after year, I did more and more bad things.
At the age of 12 I
tried chewing tobacco, at age 14 cigarettes, at 15 I
had a couple very minor scrapes with the law, and at
16 marijuana and alcohol. I started becoming very
daring. Running with worldly friends. Not what you
call bad people. Just getting drunk, smoking marijuana
and staying out all night and partying. No drug or
alcohol poisoning or nothing. Just being stupid or
acting the fool. I came close to being killed or
seriously maimed a few times.
Got in a car accident and
was knocked unconscious because I wasn't wearing a
seatbelt. My friend and I pulled out of a convenience
store just near an intersection. The speed limit at
the store was 20mph, but after the intersection was
45mph. I made a joke about ramming speed and slouched
down in the seat. A girl was coming in from the other
direction and she turned right in front of us. Well
all I remember is yelling an expletive and the next
thing I remember is waking up crumpled up on the floor
board of my buddy's truck. He had a sprained wrist
from pushing the steering wheel through the
windshield. A friend went through the back window of
his buddy’s truck when he was playing around and
slammed on his brakes.
My friend and I were
riding our 3 wheelers through the woods, we pulled out
onto a dirt road and my friend was hit by a
truck. When I was in the 8th grade, a buddy was riding
in his brother’s jeep. He was horsing around; stuck
his head out and hit a sign with his head; he spent
about 3 weeks in the hospital;
When I was 15 I had
a long time friend come for a visit, I took him out
for a ride on my 3 wheeler. I was riding on top of a
long hill about 30 or 40 feet high. I just been on it
the day before, so I wasn't expecting it to be being
cut up with a front end loader. The dirt was being
loaded into dump trucks and hauled away. Long story
short, I was traveling at about 20 mph, showing my
friend about and wasn't paying attention. I didn't
have any brakes; I suddenly saw that I was about to
ride off about a 15 foot drop off. Thinking quickly, I
gunned the throttle and pulled up on the handlebars;
that was just enough to make me land on 3 wheels at
the same time. The bad part was, my friend pushed down
on my shoulders and stood up, pushing me down on the
gas tank. My back was messed up for a couple weeks.
Not long after that
I was flying along going at least 50 mph. I wasn't
stopping for paved roads. Just zooming across
them. Well there was a Ford van coming down the
road. I was downshifting furiously and stomping on the
brake pedal that I had tied up, because I didn't have
any brakes. Well to shorten the story. My front tire
missed the van’s back bumper by 3 inches. I was
certain I was about to die. There was a girl in the
passenger seat of the van. I could hear her screaming
at the top of her lungs, seeing me coming down the
road toward them. And I was still traveling at about
20mph. I should be, by all accounts, dead! Yet all my
life, God has been watching over me. Satan has been
after me a long time.
I used to live in,
WEST PALM BEACH, FLORIDA. Then we moved up here to
OCALA FLORIDA, I didn't know anybody, yet, I somehow
got ahold of marijuana easily. Again I started the
party lifestyle. Except I also started learning to be
a mechanic. I was a very good at one. I was well
thought of; as a mechanic. I also got heavy into cars,
working on them and racing them.
I shared a house
with a friend when I was 19. I gave away my virginity
at that time to a 18 year girl. That was a big
mistake. Because when we broke up, I even went a
little more wild. She had not been a virgin; I had
been one; and I fell in love. So now I really didn't
want anything to do with girls after that. Just cars,
work and partying. I was training to be manager of the
shop I was working at. I wasn't hired as a manager.
GOD just showed me so much favor with people, along
with my natural eagerness to learn things!
One Saturday right
after spring break, we decided to go to Daytona Beach.
On Palm Sunday, March 24 or 26 1991, I was at Daytona
Beach with some friends. We were throwing a nerf
football back and forth, in and out of the water. Four
friends were in the water; and a guy and I were on the
beach. After a few minutes; that guy and I decided to
run into the water. There was a little wave coming in
and I decided to dive under it; just to get my hair
wet.
Well, I don't know
what exactly happened, but it my hit head on something
and I bit my lip. Hard enough I tasted blood. I could
move my arms and fingers and talk still, but I just
barely touched the sand, and didn't have the strength
to lift myself up or anything. Here’s the strange
part. I was not panicking or nothing, cuz I was face
down. A strange peace was on me. I was on in water
maybe 15 or 20 seconds when 2 of my friends grabbed me
under the arms and dragged me to the beach. I have
NEVER been an excitable person, and this was no
different. People were touching me here, to see what’s
paralyzed; I could still talk and use my and fingers.
(I was thinking; people, leave me alone, I'm ok! (WELL
BESIDES THE FACT I'M PARALYZED FROM THE CHEST DOWN.)
Well 7 hours later I
had a brain stem stroke. Whatever wasn't paralyzed
before, was now; and now I can't speak. I have
regained a little movement in my arms and fingers; and
now I can eat and swallow and sit in the wheelchair
without a headrest. I'm a heck of a long way from
where I need to be, but thank GOD I’m not where I use
to be. I was saved at the age of 7; around 11or12 I
began backsliding, until the accident; I can honestly
say. I'd rather be paralyzed with JESUS, than
completely whole without HIM.
I spent 10 months in
3 different hospitals. I was in Hallifax hospital in
Daytona Beach, for 4 months; 2 months of that time, I
was in a coma. One day the nurse was giving me a bath.
I had been on a respirator and because she was bathing
me, she disconnected me from the respirator and put a
mask pumping pure oxygen on my open trach. She noticed
that I wasn't having any trouble breathing so she
talked to the respiratory doctor and from that moment
on, I was never on the respirator again.
I didn't like the
respiratory doctor because he didn't talk to me, he
ignored me and just talked over me and talked to my
dad. My dad knew I didn't like him. When he would want
me to breathe for him so he could listen to my lungs;
I would stop breathing.
Then about 2 months
later; I went to a small hospital in AUBURNDALE,
FLORIDA. In that hospital they removed the long trach
from my neck and put a little plastic trach in my neck
called an Olympic button. It covered and closed the
hole, but a person could still access my lungs for
suctioning. You may be wondering what suctioning is. I
have no voluntary cough, just a reflexive one. Means
that I can not cough on command or clear my throat;
so, from time to time I need the mucus sucked out of
my lungs, with a suctioning machine. While I was there
I became mad, really mad at the situation. Not at any
one person, but I blamed God. One day my parents said
something about God and I said; I don't believe in God
anymore! Now, that really wasn't true, I just needed
to blame somebody. I could no more stop believing in
God; than I could've stopped believing in the
wind. One day I broke down and started crying
uncontrollably. One nurse and an occupational
therapist hugged me and repeatedly wiped my
tears. This went on for a couple hours. I was there
for 2 months.
Then it finally
seemed that things were changing for the better. A
male nurse was talking to my parents about a small
rehabilitation hospital near my home that his wife
worked at. Well my parents made all the necessary
arrangements. I would come to a rehabilitation
hospital only 45 minutes from my home. Less then 24
hours from that time I was scheduled to be
transferred. The Florida governor LAWTON CHILES tried
to abolish Medicare. Now everything was straightened
out eventually, but for me and many many Medicare
patients, we were scrabbling for help.
I was sent to TAMPA
GENERAL REHAB. I know many people talk about how great
that place is; but in my personal opinion, that place
sux! All they did for me was warehouse me; the same
day I was admitted, they told my parents that when the
funding runs out, I will be discharged. Talk about
government bureaucracy! Then when I finally was
discharged, they told my parents that they wouldn't be
able to care for me; put him a nursing home. My dad
said, WATCH ME! and he put me in the car and brought
me home.
When I got home
there was already a hospital bed set up and a manual
wheelchair there. I was just so glad to be home; I had
been in 3 different hospitals in exactly 10 months;
and I came home the day before my birthday. Guess when
my birthday is? Christmas day. I later learned that my
dad’s brother tried to get my parents to put me in a
nursing home. (Some family huh?)
Well basically that is
what it took to get me back in church and serving the
Lord again. Now I know that just going to church no
more makes you a Christian, than a bath and red ribbon
will make a pig into a poodle. The 2 greatest gifts
were; coming home and a little yorkie-poo puppy. My
parents gave her to me the day I came home. At first I
named her precious. My dad kept saying; that’s not a
name, that’s a description, not a name. Well I ended
up naming her RUNT; she was the runt of the litter,
the only female and the only one of a different
color. All the puppies were black males and she was a
champagne colored female.
About a week later,
my parents took me to church. It wasn't a big church;
only 20 or 30 people plus children. Kind of small but
friendly. I knew just about everyone there. The pastor
was my parents’ lawyer, as well their friend. I
remember his wife and him having supper with them one
Friday night as I was getting ready to go out. My mom
told me the next day, that I had made a big impression
on them because I was not ashamed to show affection to
my parents, in front of them, like their son. LIKE
MOST TEENAGERS! I've been that way all my life. Polite
to strangers and elders. Heck I even say yes mam/sir
no mam/sir to kids younger than me.
I've been paralyzed
approximately 17 years now, since the accident; I
think. (I'm a man and we men are terrible with dates
and for asking directions.) One weekend my parents had
been invited to a friend’s home in North Carolina, for
a break. He and his family use to go to church with
us, when I was a teenager. It was his wife and him
that invited my mom and dad to the women’s’ AGLOW
meeting where my dad’s neck was healed.
Anyway! They even
told my parents that they would pay for their airfare;
and my mom was scared to fly. But it was chance for a
small vacation. When they got back my mom had constant
irritable cough; she couldn't get rid of it. She
finally went to the doctor, but it was too late. She
contacted viral pneumonia. She had to have her lungs
drained of the fluid that built up. The worst part
was; the viral pneumonia caused congestive heart
failure; all because airplanes recycle their air. (Now
that’s just my opinion). My dad started doing
everything. He wouldn't let her do anything, from the
dishes and the cleaning, to taking care of me.
I one day asked my
mom why hadn't Dean visited me. Dean was my best
friend. My mom tells me to wait til my dad gets
home. So when my dad gets home I ask him. He tells me
that was Dean killed on his motorcycle about 6 months
after I got hurt and my dad didn't want to upset me
while I was still in the hospital.
One day my mom tells
me that she and my dad are going to have a house built
on the lot next door. My mom met with the architect to
design it with a wider hallway and doors. My dad had
his own business; so he left at 4 in the morning, and
come back around 11 in the morning. Then he and my mom
would eat lunch; take care of any business that needed
to be done; then my dad would get me up in the
wheelchair and we would go out the garage; listen to
some talk radio while he got things done for the next
day. It wasn't the ideal situation, but looking back,
it was great. (I guess what they say is true; you
never miss the water til the well runs dry).
Then about 4 years
later my dad comes in from a doctor’s appointment and
tells us that he has been diagnosed with colon cancer.
I didn't know how serious colon cancer was. Now I
don't mean that cancer wasn't serious. I didn't know
colon cancer killed so quickly. My dad and I use go
outside after he and my mom were finished eating
lunch. We would stay outside til just before dark,
listening to talk radio and getting ready for the next
morning’s work. Then dad would put me in bed and he
and my mom would eat supper while I watched tv. Then
he would come back to my room and feed me. Thank God,
my dad was in business for himself; so could set his
own hours.
It's not all bad
news. I have made some progress. I used to not even
have the strength to click a computer mouse or eat and
drink, I couldn't sit in my wheelchair without trunk
support or a head rest. Now I don't need support of
any kind and I can drive my electric wheelchair with
my left arm. So I have much to be thankful for.
Now I have to just
take it day by day. It's frustrating when I think
about where I was physically and now. I have help
doing just about everything; but praise God, still
have my mind and it's as sharp as ever, maybe
sharper! You know the doctors, when I was in a coma
still, told my dad that I would be a blind
vegetable. Now that my mind is not clouded by drugs
and alcohol, I have almost a photographic memory. I
wish I could tell you that everything is fine now and
that I'm walking and talking now. I'm not though.
I do get depressed
quite often; saying why God why? and when God
when? But after I calm down, I realize that God is in
control and I am going to spend eternity with him; and
that is a long time. You're probably wondering why I
call this The Prodigal. Well because I was always a
good kid, I didn't get into real trouble; then I
started doing things like first trying chewing
tobacco, then looking at pornography, then trying to
be cool I started smoking cigarettes; then I tried
marijuana, really crappy quality marijuana; but then
my friend bought some quality stuff, after that, I was
hooked. Now, I never tried cocaine or harder drugs,
yet I really got into drinking alcohol and partying. I
just want people to understand. No matter what you
have done, you have never gone so far that you are out
of God’s love.
I'm not going to sit
here and blow smoke up your butt. Life doesn't become
great just because you're a Christian. Yes, I do get
mad at God; then I think about it and it's not HIS
fault. My mom kept putting off going to the doctors,
making excuses; saying it's not that bad. My dad
finally went with her making her tell everything, but
the damage was done. And dad was an extreme
workaholic, never letting his body rest. And if I had
been behaving myself, I wouldn't have been at the
beach that day or messing with drugs. I get asked a
lot why I always say, I'm chatting on the
computer. The reason is, it won't change anything, and
I won't let satan know he has gotten to me. Satan
can't read your thoughts, but he can read your
computer screen. I just know that this life is just
temporary; eternity is forever.
The only thing that
makes a person become a Christian is repentance of
your sinful ways and acceptance of JESUS CHRIST (YESHUA
HA MESHIAC in Jewish), as your Lord and Saviour. God
father, the creator of the universe, sent his only
naturally born son to die in your place. To pay for
the sins you committed in your sinful nature. Now you
ask, so you have to be perfect? Absolutely not! That
is an impossibility. God know we make mistakes. The
blood of JESUS CHRIST washes away the penalty. See God
is absolutely perfect and the penalty for sin is
death; but JESUS paid the price for us; all he asks is
that we accept him as Saviour.
I'm not a preacher
or nothing like that, I just don't want anybody to
have to spend a eternity separated from God, in
hell. I would rather that you think that I'm a
complete fool, as long as you spend eternity in
paradise with God. Satan thinks he finally has
won! But now I'm not afraid to proclaim my faith to
anybody. Satan should have left me alone, I was
backslidden and had no plans to change.
