November 19, I embarked on a journey known as the Warrior Dash. This journey was several months and some severe arm twisting in the making. When I first read about the 3.1 hellish mile, 12 obstacle course, I thought, “sign me up!” What I really meant was, “wonder who loves me enough to agree to run this with me?” Enter little brother David Crumpton. I’m still not sure why he agreed, but I have a sneaking suspicion it was to get the nagging to cease. I can kind of be a pain in the hind parts when I set a goal.
Race day dawned warm, dry and clear. We arrived at the race site early enough to watch the other racers. I felt slightly nervous about the obstacles, but I was determined to complete each one successfully, and together, we did just that! I’m a stronger runner, but at a slim 6’2” David was much more compete navigating the obstacles, together we were a formidable pair. Dirty and tired we crawled through the barbed wire, mud bath finish line to have Warrior Dash medals hung around our necks. Sporting our new bling we gobbled down turkey legs and chugged Gatorade before heading for the group shower. Prior to that day showering had always been a solo event, usually indoors. Relatively mud-free we changed into clean, dry clothes and headed for home chatting about the super nacho celebratory feast I planned to prepare.
Less than one mile from our front door we were rear ended by an eighteen wheeler. The truck crushed my side of the car and shoved us into oncoming traffic causing an SUV to drive up and over the other side of the car. Here is all that’s left of my little Dodge 
Caliber. I awoke at Breckenridge Hospital with broken ribs, a broken clavicle and scapula, lacerated liver, four breaks in my neck and absolutely no memory of the accident. Initially, I had no recollection of even being back in San Marcos after the race. My first memory is of three beautiful angels named Holly, Christina and Jessica visiting my room and brushing out my hair.
Some may wonder why God allowed this accident to happen, but I do not. The why is irrelevant, what matters instead is how God’s signature was extremely prevalent throughout the entire trauma. I know that God chose to spare my life and that of my family because our work on earth is not yet complete. There are still orphans to be rescued, widows to assist and hurting people who need to experience the love of Christ. I am a broken vessel willing to be used in whatever capacity my Lord desires.
Daily I thank the Lord for the first responders who pried my broken body from the car (the door on my side would not open so I had to be removed another way) without causing permanent damage. Daily I thank God for an amazing/skilled surgeon who studied at Johns Hopkins, and showed such compassion and care regarding my 
neck repair. Daily I thank the Lord for use of my legs and for no permanent damage to my neurological system.
God has been gracious through the recovery process as well. Despite all my injuries, I was released from the hospital and returned home a week after the accident, no rehab center for me, straight home. No one, myself included, expected that. The home health nurses, and physical/occupational therapists who visited me at home, after reading my file, expected to find me bedridden and down trodden. Instead they were amazed by my mobility and good spirits.
My broken heart, a result from hurts inflicted in the past, has been completely restored through this process. So many people reached out through prayer, hospital visits, phone calls, flowers, balloons, meals, home visits, and Facebook/Twitter posts that I no longer feel insignificant or invisible. Not only am I secure in the love of my Savior, but in the love of my fellow man. I do matter and it has been made obvious that my presence on this planet would be sorely missed.
A mere twenty-one days after the accident, my surgeon granted her permission for my return to work, halo and all. I stand in awe of a magnificent God who carried me through. (More information on the accident can be found at MissionaryToAGeneration)
The Warrior Princess AKA Becky
Simply a beautiful story. I see Jesus in you.