You've found yourself in a hard place. You are looking for a way out, a purpose, hope through this experience. You are not alone. Others are in hard places too. Others have been in your shoes and have come out the other side. Here are their stories of how they found The Rock in their hard place.
Subscribe to this blog
Follow by Email
By Jamie Horning
A year and half
into our marriage, still very much in the honeymoon phase, we were tested on “in
sickness and health” to the most extreme. February 28th 2016, I was shot in
the neck by a stray bullet while sitting at the kitchen island of my mother’s
filled the room. I laid there in a puddle of my own blood surrounded by many
people I love dearly, relying on them to save my life. I laid perfectly still,
paralyzed with fear and mumbled to my mother “take me to the hospital.” No one
understood what had happened, but somehow with such clarity I was able to tell
them “I got shot.” My mother instantly held pressure to my neck wound, while my
husband called 911. My two young sisters screamed in absolute terror until
another friend in the room ushered them away. Blood began to drip off the
counter onto my leg, and time felt as though it froze.
I remember my
exact first thought was I’m going to leave my husband a widow at such a young
age and with no children. We both loved kids and were so excited to eventually
start our own family. My husband is a man of few words, and does not worry
easily. But I saw the fear in his face and eyes as he whispered “I love you,”
we both knew it might be the last time.
I laid there on
the counter and the nurse in me began to assess my possible injuries. I could
still talk and answer questions, so I knew my brain and jaw were intact. I
remember wiggling my fingers and kicking my feet against the counter because of
the pain, this confirmed I wasn’t paralyzed. But I was still fearful my neck
was broken, so I still refused to move. My mom offered to move her hands but I
told her not to move a muscle.
police and paramedics showed up. I was transferred via ambulance to Reading
Hospital. It wasn't until I got inside their trauma bay that I breathed a sigh
of relief that I might actually survive this. Dozens of hospital personnel
swarmed me, running all kinds of tests. We quickly learned my injuries were
extreme and beyond their capabilities. I was then air-lifted to the Hospital of
the University of Pennsylvania in Philadelphia, one of the best neurosurgery
hospitals in the nation. My injuries included a broken neck at the C1 for which
I wore a hard neck collar for 6 weeks. But my more critical injuries were the
unseen extensive artery damage in my neck. It took the doctors days to decide
what to do with me. I remained stable without intervention and I think they
were scared to change that. I eventually underwent multiple angiograms where
they placed a metal coil in the right artery that was damaged beyond repair. I
also received a 3 inch stent in the left artery that had been damaged by the
I spent a very
drowsy 11 days in the neuro ICU, ridden with pain and headaches that were
debilitating. Those days are cloudy to me, but my marriage and relationship
with Jesus Christ were not. All those days, I never once felt alone. My husband
was so present. Every nap I woke up from he was quietly sitting there watching
over me, holding my hand, praying. He never shed a tear in my room, but somehow
remained strong and steady in front of me. As my recovery continued the weeks after
I went home, I think back about how comforted I felt. I remember thinking I
never even felt worried, like I could physically feel the hundreds of prayers
being said on my behalf.
So many parts
of this story, I know God had his hand in. When I laid on that counter fearing
I was bleeding to death, God told me with such clarity that I was shot. He knew
my heart, and how important it was for me to understand what was going on. How
I remained responsive so I could direct my family in caring for me. When my
scheduled angiogram got delayed because of someone else's emergency, it was
because of this doctors discovered the serious arterial damage I had on the
other side of my neck. When I was unable to rest due to the extreme pain and
headaches I experienced, prayer alerts were sent out to hundreds of prayer
warriors. When I chose that seat at the island versus my shorter sister, who
most certainly would not have survived.
recovery took about 8 weeks until I was able to return to work as a nurse. However,
the impact will remain with me for a lifetime. I had to give up some of my
favorite hobbies due to the risk to my neck. But God has blessed me with a
mental strength where I do not suffer from nightmares, flashbacks, or fear.
Don’t get me wrong, I still have my struggles, but I have faith in my future
health. In the past, I struggled with anger and bitterness towards God because
of different situations that have played out in my life. Many weeks after this
event, I remember sharing with my husband how I felt no bitterness, just a
strong sense of gratitude. He then told me how he specifically had been praying
for me not to feel angry about this, another unknown answered prayer.
Our most recent
blessing came to us in June of 2019. After this traumatic accident we feared
biological children would no longer be a part of our story. But after months of
trying, and trusting in God’s timing our sweet daughter Monroe Ava was born via
C-section. Pregnancy will always be a “risk factor” for my health, but we feel
blessed beyond measure to have a healthy baby girl.
Jamie Horning lives in Denver with her husband and young daughter. They enjoy their dogs and raising lab pups together. She now works part time as a labor and delivery nurse at a local community hospital. She spends her time with family, likes exploring new things, loving on her baby girl, and sharing her heart every chance she gets.
This site is a collection of real stories by real people about The Rock in their hard places.
It is curated and edited by Kara Ranck, who is a wife and mother of two children living in Pennsylvania. Kara herself has traveled some hard places in life and knows there is hope and power when we tell our personal stories about The Rock, which brings us through. Thank you for joining us here!
By Tiffany Miller I wish I could say I remember the exact song that was playing, what I was wearing, or even the date. Sadly I don’t remember any of those details about the day I heard God speak. I couldn’t hear audible words in my ears, but there was no denying what God was saying to my heart on that Sunday while worship music played around me. “I have adopted you as my own, and you are to do likewise for your next child.” My husband and I were blessed early in our marriage with two beautiful sons. I loved my pregnancies and adored seeing them grow from tiny newborns into personality-filled toddlers. Our boys were ages 4 and 2 at the time, and we had been discussing “when” we’d like to have a third baby, but that was the extent of the conversation. So when I told my husband what God firmly pressed on my heart later that night, he was clearly surprised. None of our families or close friends had adopted before, and we were (wrongly!) under the impression that adopting a c
By Clint Watkins My wife’s words stifled me. “ I’m pregnant .” The weight of Jillian’s news brought me to the floor with a deep reverence for what was before me: I was now a dad. It filled me with both duty and delight as I began to dream about the future with our baby. But three months later, these dreams were destroyed. The day we found out we were having a boy was the same day we learned he had a fatal condition, anencephaly. If he survived delivery, he would not live long enough to come home with us. Our first child’s birth and death would occur in the same room. We had just started falling in love with our son and he was already being ripped away. I didn’t know it was possible to feel such agony. My son’s death sentence suffocated my soul and plunged me into a darkness I thought I would never come out from. My misery was multiplied by the fact that I had been rendered useless as a husband and father. I could do nothing to save my son’s life or protect my wife
By Wendy Van Wingerden Unsplash “I surrender all … I surrender all.” Do I? Do I really surrender ALL? I wondered this as I stood singing a favorite hymn in church one Sunday. It was easy for me to consider the things in life that I could do without. My home, my possessions, my status, my talents, BUT…Oh! not my children or my husband. Those things, I could not, would not surrender. I could not imagine surviving without them. Fear of losing them strangled my inmost being, it consumed my deepest thoughts. If I surrendered them, He might take. My relationship with the Lord was growing deeper, yet something held me back. Something kept me from knowing Him fully. With each word of each song I sang, he beckoned me to him. “Blessed be your name in the land that is plentiful, where the streams of abundance flow, blessed be your name.” God, you have bountifully provided for me, I know how to praise you in abundance. “Blessed be your name on the road marked with suffering, though