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Those were the tense hours: Janet riding down the road with our neighbor, feeling helpless and unsure, with scenes of how her life would change with a dead or paralyzed husband; and me utterly helpless, strapped on a table with the images that would determine my future bouncing off some satellite en route to Australia.

As it happened, thank God—oh, yes, thank God—the results were far better than either of us could imagine. The MRI revealed no arterial leakage. I was released within half an hour of Janet's arrival, fitted with a rigid neck brace that will keep my head from moving for the next 10 weeks or so. If all goes well, the vertebra may heal back appropriately on its own; if not, I may need surgery down the road.

We got a hot meal, my first of the day, and began the drive back to Evergreen. Before midnight I was sitting in a bathtub discovering new cuts and abrasions, warming up, and getting ready for a challenging night's sleep in my own bed.

I am profoundly grateful to so many who put the word out, who prayed and continue to pray for my recovery. I'm sure I will face new challenges, and my schedule over the next few months definitely needs some major adjustments. But I am alive, my fingers and toes are moving, my brain is functioning. I remember sitting in the seat of the Ford Explorer as it finally stopped rolling, with its engine still running, and thinking, "This begins chapter two of my life." Indeed it does, though with considerably brighter prospects than it seemed at the time. I hope to ski long mogul runs again, albeit not till next year, and I have another chance to climb those last three "14ers," to gaze at the wild flowers along the way, to cherish friends and love my wife and family and thank God for every minute of this precious gift of life. Praise God.

Copyright © 2007 Christianity Today. Click for reprint information.

Yancey is a CT columnist.

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March (Web-only) 2007, Vol. 51