The dead man came out, his hands and feet wrapped with strips of linen,
and a cloth around his face.
Jesus said to them,
“Take off the grave clothes and let him go.” John 11:44
The sun was blinding to my eyes. It had been more than two weeks since I had been outside, I was anxious. I got my things together, got into my wheelchair and was wheeled to the main entrance. It was a hospital entrance—to anyone else—but to me, it was freedom. I wheeled out the front door and onto the side walk. The nurse helped me into the car, and my mom and I began to pull away. It was a beautiful morning; the temperature was perfect. I remember all different feelings that ensued as we drove away, it felt as if I were driving away from the grave, as if the old me went in and a new me came out. I was finally free to begin my new life; all my troubles were behind me.
I rolled the window down as we drove along, and I stuck my hand out to feel the wind—it was a sensation I would never forget. It was as if I were experiencing it for the first time; it bled through my fingers and cooled my hand. I felt a rush go down my arm beginning the cascade of goosebumps all over my body. The morning sun glistened off my hand giving it a golden sparkle. My eyes took in every detail, from the fluffy white clouds in the blue sky, to the green leaves on the trees. As we drove out of town, even the local gas station seemed enthralling; as we drove along, I was in awe of everything, I feasted my eyes on it all as the beauty of life overwhelmed me.
The joy of being alive…breathing…it was incredible. It was as if I had been…resurrected. I left the hospital that day a completely different person. How different? I wasn’t sure, but I knew something had changed inside of me.
The Journey to my hospital release had been difficult. I was supposed to have been home three days prior, but it kept getting set back because my progress was slow. Of course, for each one I was disappointed to find out my stomach infection had still not gone away, I couldn’t leave. But that was all in the past, my future was bright, and I figured things couldn’t possibly be any worse than what I had just endured. On the way home, I couldn’t help but crying.
I felt like war torn veteran on his way home…excited, changed, clouded. You never know how much you’ve changed until you try getting back into the swing of life. I was confused and broken, and it would be a while before things seemed “normal.” I wasn’t sure I would ever be “me” again, but I was glad to be alive, and for the moment that would do.