Grace Christian

I have to admit, I thought I would be the last parent in the whole world to send my children to a private school. Isn't that why there is a line item on my property taxes marked school? Angie and I attended public school and we turned out fine. My older two children attended public school and went onto college. What's the difference?

You can tell the difference from the moment you walk in the door. Chances are there will be a student there to greet you at the door. The attitude of these children is amazing. Children of every age are helpful and respectful.

The teachers are very caring and genuinely want the children to excel. The Grace teachers are much more than just teachers. The night of my accident, Alex's preschool teachers drove an hour to sit and pray with Angie in the emergency room. At Grace, our children are much more than just students, they are part of the Grace family.

This all started with Angie and I looking for a preschool for Alex. What we found was more than just a preschool, we found a community that welcomed us in with open arms.

Thank you Grace Christian family, for introducing us to a better education and accepting us into your family.

A Constant Remider

Individual: "You are getting really good in that thing (wheelchair), before long you will forget your even in one"
Me: "Thanks"

What I really wanted to say: I don't really think I'll ever forget that I'm confined to a wheelchair. My whole world is one constant reminder of my situation. Everything I look at and everything I do reminds me of this wheelchair.

I can't really see this as a valid explanation... Visual: me laying on my back at the bottom of a long flight of stairs trying to explain to the people trying to help me get back into my chair... Oh, I'm sorry, I must have forgotten that I'm in a wheelchair.

I lived 36 years with the ability to walk and run, and don't think I'll soon forget that. I'm just praying that this will get easier as time goes by.

My Little Angels

Dear God,

Thank you so much for stepping in during my accident and allowing me to live through it. I know that you are the savior who held my hand through the darkness. I am so thankful for the opportunity to continue to be a active part in the raising of my two little angels. When the pain is unbearable and the disability restricts my movement, I only look at my two angels and thank you for everything.

Love, Matt

By the grace of god

Lord,

Thank you, I know that it was your intervention that allowed me to live through the accident. I've learned the term "By the grace of god" quite well. The times when I become frustrated with my condition, I remember the alternative and suddenly the problem doesn't seem so bad anymore.

I don't know yet what your plan for my life is, but know that I am ready to serve you in any capacity.

Love, Matt

Handicap Parking

Caution: This may offend some portions of my reading audience.

I get an odd look from people when I pull into the handicap parking spot in front of a business. Most of the time it's an older man or older woman who first notice. They notice a younger person invading on their "age earned" preferential parking location.
Evidentially, the Americans with Disabilities Act left out the minimum age requirement clause when defining who can use the parking spaces.

Maybe the logo on the blue sign needs to be something other than a wheelchair?

Often, the looks begin change as I open the doors and start to assemble my wheelchair on the pavement. My favorite look is the second they realize that I'm in a wheelchair. Then I get the maybe I judged this guy too fast look.

The handicap spot might be more convenient and easier on your legs, but remember they were designed for people in wheelchairs; those who can't use their legs at all.

Here is a simple test:
If you require a handicap parking spot to provide enough room to a) extend your wheelchair ramp, b) assemble your wheelchair, or c) can only walk with the assistance of a walker: by all means park in the area.
If a, b, or c are not true, then leave the spot for someone who requires the additional space. Because, someday it might be you looking for a parking place wide enough to get your wheelchair out.

Young Loss

For those of you who haven't heard, I lost my sister on January 30th. I was asked by my Mom and Dad if I would speak at the funeral for the family. I couldn't think of a better way to pay tribute to my sister. Here is the tribute I spoke at the funeral.

"Amanda is 10 years younger than I am. I remember the day she was born and every milestone of her growing up... From the day she was born, to her first steps, to her first bike I was there to share it with her. One fond memory I have is that she would come into my room and we would crank up my stereo and sing and dance. Billy Ocean: Get Outta My Dreams (get into my car) was one of her favorite songs to sing along to. We would drive Mom and Dad crazy singing loudly, or maybe it was just that we sang off key so bad. 


When I made the decision to leave California after graduation, I not only left the state, but I left my 9 year old sister behind as well. We talked on the phone and saw each other several times a year, but we lost the daily interaction we shared when we were younger. As we grew older, though we were miles apart, we still understood each other.


My sister started her family a little sooner than she had planned. (Following her big brothers lead) But, through hard work and sheer determination she finished college while raising a family. She wanted a career, but she wasn't willing to sacrifice her family for it. There wasn't anything my sister couldn't accomplish if she set her mind to it.


My sister and I could banter back and forth for hours on just about anything... We have always been pretty competitive with each other. Playing board games was always an all in adventure for us. Much to the delight of our parents, I think Dad was always keeping score for us mentally as we volleyed back and forth. I'm betting Amanda is gloating right now about how she got to walk in heaven with Grandma first.


After my accident, Amanda and I talked more than we had in the past. During one of our last conversations, Amanda said that she really wanted to be a better Aunt. She said that even though there was a physical distance, she could do a better job than she had been doing. She said she wanted to be more like our Aunt Jan was to us. We both agreed that we would work on it.


I draw strength knowing that she will not be forgotten. Her legacy is the live's on, through the lives that she touched and the 2 children that she brought into this world. Amanda will live on through both Jonah and Kendall. Her spirt is in them. I believe that it's our duty as friends and family to ensure that Kendall and Jonah always know exactly what kind of a person their Mom was.


Amanda, I don't know why God decided to take you from us now. I know that you are walking with Grandma now and that we will see each other again. You will be truly missed. I Love You Sis."

I ask that anyone wishing to pray for my family; please pray for Amanda's children and my Mom and Dad. I can't imagine what it must be like to lose a child.

My work is not done

I often wonder why my life was spared during the accident. If you look at just the physics of the accident, there is no explainable way that someone could live through the trauma. It's definitively a miracle that I survived.

I know that I had not finished the work that God had planned for me and therefore he spared my life. I don't know what work he has planned for me, but it must be important.

"For I know the plans I have for you," says the Lord. "They are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope." Jeremiah 29:11