Waves

I met Dave Roever in the fall of 1983,  almost a year after my accident. The darkness had been closing in on me: wearing the mask, waiting for the next surgery, my life stuck in limbo, my identity shredded, scar tissue growing and twisting. I felt so lost, so alone, so not understood…

When I heard a Vietnam veteran  who had been badly burned was coming to my area to speak, I knew I had to meet him. He made me laugh. He made me cry. I identified with every word he uttered and took in his message of God’s love, forgiveness and healing. It was a turning point. A glimmer of hope seeped in that has never been squelched.

I’ve seen Dave only a handful of times in the past 30 years but I’ve kept track of his comings and goings, his ministry to encourage our soldiers and share far and wide his powerful testimony. Seeing him usually triggers a tidal wave of tears, the grief instantaneously rising in the presence of someone who understands fully the pain of a lost identity – living with scars – battling for perspective.

Meeting up with him this weekend was different. I didn’t feel that old pain rising, just a wave of joy, and a need to tell him how much he impacted my life at the darkest point in my recovery. We shared books, a hug and a couple of words.

But far more important, that sacred knowing.