Toddler Storytelling and Alayna is Alive Day


Isaiah has a newfound joy for story telling.  He asks John and I to tell him stories, and he also enjoys retelling stories that he hears and loves.  So we have told him the story of how mommy and daddy met, the story of when he was born and when his sister was born, and about the time that he drove mommy crazy when he was a colicky infant and wouldn’t stop crying in the backseat when mommy was stuck in rush hour traffic on Route 51.  That one was a nailbiter... ;)

Just a few weeks ago, while he was taking a bath, he asked me to tell him a story, a new story.  And, well, I remembered a whale of a tale that he hadn't heard yet.  


It just so happens that this story began eight years ago, one day late in August.  


It’s a crazy story about a young woman who walked out in front of a minivan that was going at least 25 miles an hour.  She got hit, flew 35 feet in the air like a rag doll, landed in oncoming traffic, and survived to live another day.  But she was busted up, and so was the minivan.  She fractured her skull and broke her pelvis in three places, got road rage on her face and her foot after her shoe flew off from the force of the minivan colliding with her body.  Even the minivan didn't come out unscathed, but ended up with a dent in the hood – from her skull. 


She was a mess, but her God was an expert on messes.  And He was definitely bigger that this mess!  


He provided a nurse who happened to just be walking by the scene who sent her to the best hospital for her trauma.  He provided an ambulance at the scene (carrying non critical patients) that was able to stop and help her.  He provided lots of visits from amazing friends who PRAYED and awesome doctors who put her back together in a few surgeries.  And he provided a family – stuck in the traffic jam her collision with a minivan caused – to pray for her for months after the accident.  And while they wondered what happened to that young blond haired woman who was injured at the intersection, God would allow their paths to cross years later when the young woman was the youth leader for the family's teenagers at a local church.  

Now eight years later, she's healthy and whole, with a loving husband and two beautiful kids.  And once a year, on the anniversary of her accident, she would celebrate being alive.   


It's a wild and crazy tale that may be hard to believe, but that young blond haired woman was me.   

It was eight years ago last month that I would wake up in a hospital bed, and wonder why on earth I walked out in front of a minivan.  Eight years later, and things have turned out better than I could have imagined from that very hospital bed.   
Eight years later and I am certainly blessed.  

Blessed that I was able to go on to have babies, after breaking my pelvis, with my loving husband, who happened to be one of my praying friends from eight years ago.  I am blessed that everything on my body works almost as well as it did 10 years ago.  I may not be as spry, but I suppose a minivan and two kids will do that.  

As I told him my crazy story, I reflected on how important it was to me, and how I need to remember it and tell it again and again.  One year on the anniversary of my accident, I wrote a more in depth narrative in this blog, if you'd like to read it.   

I love Isaiah's new desire to hear lots of stories, because it reminds me how important and valuable it is to share the stories of our lives with others.  Storytelling reminds me of the amazing things that have happened in my own life.  I'm full of smiles and great joy to remember a season of great fun and friendship or the birth of a child.  I'm reminded of the fuzzy feelings of new love when I tell the stories about our engagement and wedding day.  And telling stories of fun family outings or silly birthday stories helps me to remember that I really do love my children on days that they are driving me nuts.  

My accident story reminds me that I don't exist in a vacuum, and it helps me to remember how God and my friends were there for me in my toughest of times.  So... I hope Isaiah wasn't too disturbed or confused by my crazy whale of a tale.  He did ask why the doctors would put screws in my head after I let him feel them under my skin on my forehead.  I guess it’s so someday we can say that mommy has a few screws loose, and not be too far off.  


Some stories are good and full of joy, some are tough even to retell, and some are simply funny or silly, and I think it's important to share them all.  So be sure to share all the stories of your life, with your kids, with your spouse, and with your friends.  Your lives will be richer because of it.  Ours certainly are. 
 

Do you tell your children stories about your life?  Do you have a favorite story that you tell your kids? 

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