It was a big job, the kind I loved.<\/p>\n
There aren\u2019t many people who know how to tear down and rebuild the engine on a Peterbilt logging truck. I\u2019d built my mechanic business from scratch and was proud of what I\u2019d accomplished. Across central Wisconsin I was the guy to call for heavy machinery repairs.<\/p>\n
On this particular November day I was finishing up work on an engine at the truck owner\u2019s garage. I\u2019d spent most of the last three days removing the head gasket and cylinder head, carefully disassembling clamps, cables and other engine parts. It took a lot of horses to power this big boy. The front wheels and axle alone carried over 11,000 pounds.<\/p>\n
Now, in the home stretch of a 12-hour day, my mind kept returning to a discussion my wife, Lori, and I had two nights ago about our faith.<\/p>\n
I wasn\u2019t sure where she was coming from. God had already changed me so much, helped me overcome problems with drugs and alcohol. And he had given me this talent to fix engines and a successful business. Yet Lori believed I could deepen my faith still more, meeting God in my life in ways I had yet to understand.<\/p>\n
I filled the engine with oil and coolant then started it to make sure everything was in running order. Almost done. I was putting away my tools when the truck driver and part-time mechanic asked if I\u2019d look at an oil leak unrelated to my work. \u201cSure,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n
The passenger-side wheel was removed and the jack was still in place. I slid under the truck feet first on a creeper. Peering into the underside of the rumbling engine, I wiped away oil with a rag, trying to find the leak. As I looked up, I saw some movement in my peripheral vision, turning my head just in time to see the jack shoot out from under the front axle like a rocket.<\/p>\n
Before I could react, the axle slammed across my midsection, crushing me to the floor. I screamed in agony till I was gasping for air, my lungs burning. Then a final involuntary cry from deep inside me: \u201cGod, help me!\u201d<\/p>\n
My arms strained against the axle. It didn\u2019t budge. My arms collapsed, the pain too intense. Sweat soaked my face and hair. The engine rumbled, each vibration grinding the axle down on me. I heard the other mechanic calling 911. \u201cHurry! He\u2019s smashed under the truck.\u201d<\/p>\n
It\u2019s too late. I\u2019m going to die.<\/em> I tasted blood, felt it running down my chin. The mechanic turned off the engine. Then he began jacking up the truck again. The axle slowly raised off me, but the pain didn\u2019t let up.<\/p>\n I reached back and grabbed the bottom of the front bumper with my hands to pull myself out. But I moved less than a foot before my muscles collapsed, only enough for my head to stick out from the bottom of the truck.<\/p>\n I thought about Lori and the kids. I loved them so much. I wished I could see them to tell them goodbye. But everything was fading. Turning black.<\/p>\n The next thing I knew it was as if I were watching a movie from 15 feet in the air, a scene unfolding below me, the logging truck in the foreground.<\/p>\n A man\u2019s head stuck out from beneath the front of the truck, another man on his knees by him, stroking his hair. \u201cHang on,\u201d said the kneeling man. \u201cI don\u2019t want to move you. The paramedics are coming. Please don\u2019t die.\u201d<\/p>\n The man under the truck was me\u2026I was watching myself.<\/p>\n Intrigued, I looked closer. Was I alive? There was no sign of movement. I realized the pain was gone. Now I felt nothing. No, this can\u2019t be the end.<\/em> I shut my eyes tight, trying to will myself back into my body.<\/p>\n I opened my eyes again. No. I was still watching myself from above. But wait\u2026there below me were two incredible figures kneeling on either side of the other mechanic. I knew what they were\u2014angels.<\/p>\n They were like no angels I\u2019d ever imagined\u2014massive, powerful men, bigger than any NFL linebacker. I could see only their backs. They wore radiant, white robes made from some type of heavy material, almost as if it were woven from ropes. Curly blond hair fell halfway down their backs.<\/p>\n Their arms reached under the truck toward my crushed midsection. God had sent angels! Their presence filled the garage in a supernatural way. But watching from above it seemed natural, inviting. I wanted to feel their touch, to see their faces. Is this what happens when you die?<\/em><\/p>\n I saw a paramedic rush into the garage, seemingly oblivious to the angels. She knelt on the floor next to my head, the angels not moving. She was talking to me as I watched from above. Then she tapped me on the cheek\u2014hard.<\/p>\n My face! I could feel again! In the distance I heard a voice getting louder. \u201cOpen your eyes!\u201d When I did, I was looking up\u2014into the eyes of the paramedic. \u201cHello, Bruce,\u201d she said. \u201cKeep those eyes open for me. It\u2019s very important.\u201d<\/p>\n I was alive! I looked to my right and left. The angels were gone. Excruciating pain ripped through my body. Where were the angels? Why had they left? I felt myself fading again, something telling me to let go. I didn\u2019t have the strength to push back.<\/p>\n Then a clear, powerful voice: If you want to live, I\u2019m here<\/em>, it said. But it won\u2019t be easy. You\u2019re going to have to fight, harder than you\u2019ve ever fought for anything. Are you willing?<\/em> It wasn\u2019t an angel speaking, or the paramedic. It was God\u2019s voice speaking deep inside me, deeper than the pain. I\u2019d have to fight. But not alone.<\/p>\n My mind flashed on an image of Lori and the kids. I thought of how much they needed me. No, that wasn\u2019t right. I needed them, especially now. God<\/em>, I prayed, I want to live. I want to fight for them and for you. I\u2019ll do whatever it takes.<\/em><\/p>\n More paramedics, urgently discussing how they\u2019d move me. Slowly they pulled the creeper out from under the truck. \u201cWe\u2019re going to take you to the hospital now,\u201d the first paramedic said. \u201cFrom there you\u2019ll be airlifted to the trauma center in Madison. We\u2019ve contacted your wife. She\u2019ll meet you there. I know you\u2019re hurting, but stay with me. You\u2019re doing great.\u201d<\/p>\n For the next hour\u2014till we reached the trauma center\u2014I focused with all my strength on keeping my eyes open. Keep looking around. As long as you can see, you\u2019re alive.<\/em><\/p>\n The doctors at the trauma center rushed me to the operating room. I have a vague memory of the anesthesia mask covering my nose and mouth. Then all went dark, as dark as death.<\/p>\n The next thing I remember is looking through a kind of haze. Lori was sitting beside me. Even in my stupor I could see the huge smile on her face.<\/p>\n \u201cBruce! You\u2019re awake! The doctors have had you in a coma for two weeks. They said to cross my fingers. I told them I was going to pray. I\u2019ve never said so many prayers!\u201d<\/p>\n I wanted to talk, but a breathing tube filled my mouth. I wanted to write, but my arms were too weak to move. It was another week, the second week of December, before the doctor removed the tube and I could tell Lori everything. \u201cSomething happened to me,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s okay,\u201d she said. \u201cThe accident. You\u2019ve had three surgeries. Don\u2019t push yourself. You don\u2019t need to talk.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo,\u201d I said. \u201cI need to tell you. It\u2019s about our discussion. You were right. God has something he needs me to do. I know he\u2019ll help me figure it out. Lori, I saw angels after the truck fell on me. He sent angels to save me!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cEven the doctors said it was a miracle you survived,\u201d she said. \u201cRest now.\u201d<\/p>\n I nodded weakly. There\u2019d be plenty of time. The future stretched before me like a blank page, inviting me to write a new chapter. God had sent angels to let me know he\u2019d be there with me through the challenges ahead, that my relationship with him would deepen. That was the promise of the angels.<\/p>\n Doctors operated on me twice more\u2014literally putting my insides back together. It was months more before the pain subsided enough for me to function.<\/p>\n Today, I travel around the world, sharing my story in churches, jails, schools and on the internet. I\u2019ve even written a book. The accident has changed my life forever. I\u2019ve learned how frail the human body is.<\/p>\n Yet I\u2019ve discovered the strength the Lord offers us to draw from, present in ways I could never have believed.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" It was a big job, the kind I loved. There aren\u2019t many people who know how to tear down and rebuild the engine on a Peterbilt logging truck. I\u2019d built my mechanic business from scratch and was proud of what I\u2019d accomplished. Across central Wisconsin I was the guy to call for heavy machinery repairs. 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