Vance had fallen so deep into trouble, pain and emptiness, he no longer knew the way out. He felt as though he was wasting his life. But God reached down from on high and took hold of Vance, rescuing him out of the deep waters.

Vance's Rescue from Deep Waters

My Dad's most notable achievement in life was being a member of the Hell's Angels in the late 1950's. He eventually drowned on his own vomit. He was 42 years old when he died.

My Mom's life was patterned with numerous broken relationships, alcohol abuse, drug overdoses and several suicide attempts. She died at the age of 61 as a result of end stage lung and liver disease.

In spite of this, I gave my life to Christ at a very young age. I did my best to keep as close to God as possible throughout a childhood of upheaval, but I never looked for help when I really needed it. I endured until the age of 15 before beginning to self-destruct.

Losing Track

I gave up on my Christian walk and began to emulate the lifestyle that surrounded me. I began drinking, smoking pot, and getting into trouble. By the age of 16 I was convicted for joyriding. At the age of 17, I was arrested for possession of marijuana. I began taking multiple hits of LSD. I eventually took so much that I lost track of fact from fiction.

While I was still 17, I drove a couple of people I knew to and from houses where they entered and took guns. Nine days after my 18th birthday I was arrested for that activity.

I lived by the code and took the rap, allowing my accomplices to go free. I was extremely fortunate not to do state time.

Throughout the next seven years, I was arrested 15 more times as a result of alcohol and substance abuse. The drunk tank truly became my friend. By the time I was 19 I had discovered the drug crystal methamphetamine. I began drinking even more heavily.

Three months after my 22nd birthday I was riding on the hood of a car with several of my friends. I had taken a considerable amount of speed and had spent a long evening drinking beer and half of a fifth of Jim Beam. The driver of the car swerved. I fell off and was dragged under the car, embedding skin and denim into the highway for 14 feet. The driver notified the fire department of the accident and hid in a motel room, not sure of what to do next.

The fire department began searching for us, but unfortunately it was on the mountain several miles below. Eventually, an anonymous lady only known as "Mountain 4" began hailing the fire department on her CB radio. The fire department and "Mountain 4" eventually met up with each other, and I was transported to the hospital.

Peace with God

Later that evening as I was being wheeled to the operating room, Dr. Su, the surgeon on duty somberly advised me of my chances of survival. Dr. Su told me, "I don't think I can save you young man! You had better make your peace with God!"

I went into emergency surgery that evening without much hope for survival. I can not adequately describe what it felt like not having any time to say goodbye to family or friends. I had only enough time to say a quick prayer for mercy before slipping into an anesthetically induced unconsciousness.

My liver had been lacerated, my spleen and bladder had been ruptured and my pelvis had been shattered. The skin on my knees and the palm of my left hand had been ground completely away as the result of being grated into the rough asphalt.

Miraculously I survived, and was flown to Loma Linda University Medical Center as a result of suffering a closed head injury. As I was being taken out to the transport helicopter, I had just enough time to see all of my friends and family who had gathered in the waiting room.

The flight for life team told me, “Wave goodbye, because this might be the last time you see them!”

Later as neurosurgeons were evacuating the subdural hematoma on the left side of my head they found an old head injury caused by a fight I had been in on my 22nd birthday. They evacuated it as well.

After five days in a coma I spent three months at Loma Linda, and I had to undergo three more surgeries. I presently endure paralysis of the right side of my diaphragm, a permanent limp and chronic pain as a result of this accident. I was a seasonal fire fighter with the U.S. Forest Service, and would have to give up my aspirations of working for them year round.

As I was being released, I was warned not to drink again.

Barely able to walk I celebrated my release from the hospital later that evening by cracking open a couple of Rainier Ale's with some friends who lived down the street.

I fell in and out of trouble as a result of alcohol and substance abuse for the next three years. I was a low life. Certainly, I was somebody not worth the price of saving.

Wasting My Life

After narrowly escaping a couple of drug related convictions I realized that I had been thrown more than my share of lifelines. I slowly began to admit my life was beyond my own recovery. As I reflected on my life, I began to come to terms with the shame of wasting God's purpose for my life.

So as I lay in bed one evening I began to pray for God's mercy.

I can honestly testify that God reached down that evening, took firm hold of me and shook me from my slumber. I found myself looking down at a poor, pathetic lonely old man on the brink of death with nothing to hope for. I was in fact looking down at myself. As I tried to blink away the disbelief of this moment it also became apparent that this was the way other people currently saw me.

The Pain of Emptiness

I began attending Alcoholics Anonymous, and as time passed, I received my 30 day sobriety pin. But even though I should have been proud, I still had an emptiness in my heart that longed to be filled. For ten years I had attempted to fill it with drugs and alcohol; but now the pain of that emptiness was free to burn away.

Continue reading page 2 of "Vance's Rescue"