What My Accident on the Race Taught Me

Leave it to my clumsy self to get into the most stereotypical Race accident ever. It was the injury we were repeatedly told would not be covered by insurance. I crashed a motor scooter – but with a twist- into a barbed wire fence. 

Now I should forewarn you that I’m awful at dealing with blood. So to be stitched up in a hospital on a remote island in a third world country was rather traumatizing. I’m incredibly thankful for my team at the time who quickly came to my rescue and held me as I was put back together. (Love you, Allie!)

It’s not only the incident that I aim to rehash, but rather the ways that God continues to work in and through me because of it.

My team had rented motorcycles, a four wheeler, and a moped to get around the island for our adventure day. We had just watched the sun set at an incredible spot on Ometepe Island in the middle of Lake Nicaragua. It was my first time riding at night. I quickly realized that the four wheeler ahead of me had kicked up so much dust that I could barely see the trail. I thought, “hmmm this doesn’t feel safe I should pull over.” Before I could act, I hit a patch of lose dirt and lost control. There was a solid 10 seconds of being jerked around where I desperately tried to regain control. I was inevitably met with and dragged across a barbed wire fence.

I sat there in the dirt with my sleeves hooked to the fence looking at my split open thigh in both horror and shock.

My team leader Jacob ran to my side and met me with gentleness. “God is with you, you’re okay, you’re gonna be fine, we’re going to take care of you”, he murmured to me. Internally I was panicking, the slew of Europeans that pulled over externally were panicking. Truly the gentleness of the Spirit shown through in Jacob at a time of turmoil. I now see that it is in these moments that you recognize the Fruits of The Spirit in your life the most. 

Two girls from Spain immediately loaded me into their car and drove me five minutes to the only hospital on the island. The island was about a two hour drive in circumference. I now see God’s provision in the hospital’s proximity and the immediate ride that was offered. 

When I first entered the hospital with ripped clothes, bleeding, and in tears- the doctor met me with a cold, “what do you need?”

My heart sank as he stitched up my neck. I’m an expressive person by nature, so I said, “this is muy traumatico”. He laughed with the nurses saying, “no you’re dramatico”. The doctor sent one of my teammates to the pharmacy in the middle of sewing me up as he ran out of stitches.

I was determined to show him I was not an arrogant or entitled American or European that I feel he was used to encountering. As he cleaned me up I asked what his name was, what his family was like, how he became a doctor. I told him we were there to serve his people and alleviate poverty of spirit. At this, he softened up.

In the end -29 stitches later- he apologized, and I actually witnessed to him and prayed for he and his family. The situation was redeemed before my very eyes.

Additionally, it turns out healthcare is free to Nicaraguans. Just a week earlier we were in majorly inflated Costa Rica. This was another blessing.  

About three days later, I was feeling ancy from laying in bed, it was also our last day on the island. My team was serving at a school when a girl approached me with a scar on her face. I could see the barbs in the scarring. She asked what had happened to me – a rarity for this timid culture. I told her and she told me that she had been scarred by a barbed wire fence as well. 

In that moment, by the spirit, common people powerfully healed became powerful healers. 

God knew we needed one another for encouragement that day. She allowed me to see the healing I will experience down the road. I showed her that she is not alone. 

In the days that followed, I had to stay in bed and rest. I missed out on exploring the capital city of Managua and partnering with an amazing ministry that I had connected with. As a busy body, this would have normally made me depressed. However, I can only describe it as being enveloped in a supernatural peace. 

The Holy Spirit means that those once depressed can be filled with mystifying joy and then share it with others. It means that a little girl clothes lined by a barb wire can reassure a clumsy American that it will get better in time. 

The Holy Spirit is not meant to be an escape from the suffering of this world, but rather a way to come alive among the chaos.

The most powerful healing in our life will always come from healed wounds. By His wounds we are healed and by our wounds we join in the healing of the world. 

It’s a funny thing – it’s actually not our power that qualifies us, but our wounds.

Update: We left Central America and got rerouted to Eastern Europe, so I will be having an Albanian Christmas this year. Have a Merry Christmas! 

xo -Lindsey

A lot of this was made clear from the Bridgetown Church podcasts on Spotify or Apple. I highly recommend them to receive further clarity on the Holy Spirits role in our lives!

The incredible sunset spot on Ometepe Island.

The doctor & I right after he cleaned me up (I may be hyped up on pain meds).