Jeremy Peters
Jeremy Peters
A Walking Miracle
My name is Jeremy Peters and this is my personal testimony to the saving, healing gospel of Jesus Christ.
In April of 1996, I was on a vacation sponsored by the company I was working for at the time. The first night we had what you might refer to as a "meet and greet". There was a lot of eating, socializing, drinking etc. In the time that followed I was really carried away with the party and intoxicated. What I didn't realize is that I was about to reap consequences for my sin. God's Word definitely warns against drunkenness (Ephesians 5: 18). I'm very thankful today that He is a merciful, forgiving savior.
Later in the evening I was in one of the rooms of this large resort with a friend of mine. We were making plans to do some fishing later in the weekend, but at the time just about to leave and catch some of the nightlife at some local bars and clubs with others in the company. My friend and I had both wrestled in school and used to share some if our old techniques from time to time. So before leaving we started wrestling around just sort of jokingly. He maneuvered what's called a double-leg takedown on me, and I went backwards with a great deal of force stopping suddenly with tremendous impact. There was a solid oak-type chest set against the wall behind me, and my head and neck were just slammed into it. Needless to say there was no give on the part of the wall. I was instantly paralyzed and without any ability to breathe. At that moment my spine was fractured and displaced at the second and third vertebrae. (This is referred to as the Hangman's Fracture and in the majority of cases, results in death. This was the injury suffered by the actor Christopher Reeve.) My spinal cord was completely crushed; all of a sudden I was struggling with the feeling that I was about to die. Somehow my friend was able to call for help and also perform enough mouth to mouth resuscitation to keep me alive until the ambulance arrived. It was an extremely long and difficult process getting the ambulance to where I was, so I believe the initial intervention of the Lord was there, giving me the opportunity to stay alive. My friend said later that it was a daunting task keeping me at least vaguely conscious until help arrived. I can remember just a few fragments here and there just plainly fighting to stay alive. It was a very surreal feeling as if there was sort of a deep sleep being forced upon me and struggling with all of my inner constitution just to keep my eyes open. At the same time there is a spiritual dynamic. I seemed to be aware that I could just "check out" so to speak and leave my body all together. Actually I had numerous opportunities in the following weeks to do so, but I honestly don't remember any moment considering that option. I was always highly tenacious and at times just plain stubborn, so this situation provided a constructive application for that you might say. When the ambulance finally arrived to transport me to a hospital nearby my friend said it looked like I was gone. I actually was dead by cardiac arrest early on, but was able to be revived. They examined me and determined first of all, that I needed to be transported to Columbia University Hospital in Missouri, since that was the closest place equipped to handle such a severe case. Second of all, though Columbia was one of the highest ranking spinal cord injury facilities in the nation, they determined that I would never walk again even though my surgery and rehab would be performed there. (Due to the molecular structure of the human spinal cord it is scientifically impossible to repair such damage within the confines of modem medicine.) Given this fact they reported that for the rest of my life I would be a quadriplegic. I don't recall sustained consciousness until sometime the following morning at Columbia. They were trying to explain to me what happened. My only capability of response was to blink my eyes once for yes and twice for no. They went through the process of informing me that I would need a tracheotomy, which would connect me to an electronic ventilation system since I had lost the ability to breathe. Soon after that they performed surgery to permanently stabilize my vertebrae. There was nothing, however, to be done in correcting the damage to the spinal cord seeing that it had spent many hours smashed between the two vertebrae. Approximately ten days later came the final prognosis. It indicated that I would require extensive rehabilitation but the damage was permanent and so the condition would be. I would need to learn to operate what is called a "sip and puff wheelchair", which is maneuvered through a mechanism that allows you to activate it with a straw. But I believed in my heart that Jesus Christ was also my physician and that He was not limited to science.
I placed myself in the hands of The Great Physician. I had very little faith at the time but then again it only takes a little faith to move mountains (Mark 11:23). The one thing I knew is that God loved me, and in spite of my own foolishness, He would have mercy on me. Throughout the whole experience I had people praying for me including my mother who was at my bedside most of the time. I had been attending a church that year, but obviously my whole heart was not in it. At this time in my life I was letting my commitment to God slip, and I was starting to fall back into old destructive habits. Nevertheless, my pastor was accustomed to praying for people in need of healing (Mark 16: 18 says that believers will lay hands on the sick and they will recover) and he quickly traveled to the facility in order to claim God's Word concerning the situation. This time of prayer actually took place before my surgery and it seemed that none of the professionals involved in my care would even entertain the idea that I would recover. I remember hearing about some of my co-workers asking the staff if there was any chance of me walking again and they wouldn't even acknowledge the question. Their only reply was, "Let's just see if we can keep him alive." The doctors would scoff at my mother's comments about me being healed. At one time she was having a conversation with one of the head surgeons, and as soon as she mentioned having faith for my healing, he immediately turned his back on her and left the room. Still she remained steadfastly fixed on the Word of God. Here I was age 26 and apparently had lost everything, but with God all things are possible (Luke 18:27).
I remember being awakened in the middle of the night often to the sound of people yelling, "Clear!!" or other commotion's involving life threatening emergencies. I was always relieved to open my eyes and realize that I was still alive. I would hear the rescue helicopters landing and I would thank God each time because I knew that at least I was past that point. At the same time they were having difficulty keeping me on life support. I had developed clinical pneumonia and other complications, which is quite common. My lungs were filling up with secretions and almost completely collapsed. It appeared as if I was standing at the end of my life on a slippery stone. But God was faithful to His word and I was learning more about my redemption every day. One of my aunts visited me and had with her a couple of audio series booklets taught by Kenneth E. Hagin. The titles of the two tape series were Healing Belongs to Us and God's Medicine. These teachings dramatically strengthened my faith! I would listen to them a lot during the day and at night I would listen to music playing continually with lyrics that were from scriptures on healing. I was constantly being fed God's word which is a miracle cure, actual medicine for any type of infirmity or disease (Proverbs 4:20-22). I learned that Jesus laid down His life not only to free us from sin but also from infirmity and sickness (Matthew 8:17 & 1 Peter 2:24). Not only did I recover my lung capacity but something miraculous was just on the horizon.
One day as I woke from my sleep my mom told me that she saw my legs move slightly. I looked down, and as I was in the habit of doing, I would will them to move. I say will them to move because I had little or no sensation at the time so that's all I could do. But this time they moved! Oh, just barely, but they moved. You see my mom and I had been listening to those tapes and being taught that you must believe you have received the answer to your prayer before you see it. Hebrews 11: 1 says, Faith is the evidence of things unseen. We learned to give praise and worship to God for the sacrifice that took place 2,000 years ago to bear this burden. I can still remember her lifting my lifeless arms in her hands and waving our hands together in praise to God. Sometimes you have to be willing to do something that seems totally radical and completely irrational because at all cost you must believe! When this manifestation finally took place, none of the caregivers were willing to believe it at first. They thought they would have to break the news to us that it was just a muscle spasm When they found out I could actually move my legs on command, it was like pandemonium in the ICU. People were running in and out of my room shouting, "Oh my God!" I wished I could've spoken at the time. I would've exclaimed, "Exactly! He's the one behind all of this!" From that time my room continued to be filled with more people each consecutive day when the doctors would make their rounds. I remember the head of staff standing over my bed looking down at me. I wish I had a picture of the expression on his face. I remember people smiling and shaking their heads in amazement and saying things like, "I guess you were right about those prayers". But this man's expression was different. It looked as if he was standing over someone who was raised from the dead or something. As if he'd seen a ghost you might say. With this solemn look of fear on his face, he stared down at me and simply said, "Jeremy, we just don't see this." As the days continued, my movement progressed. I was able to start exercising my legs in bed. I remember it seemed like sheer torture to go through the process at times. Nobody could advise me concerning the experience with any real accuracy if they had never seen such a recovery.
Many things happened in the four months that followed. As I said before, I started exercising in bed, which led to learning to sit up as more of my body began to move. I remember it being the most exhausting experience just to sit upright on the edge of my bed. I later moved from the ICU into the next phase which was full on rehabilitation. I can tell you frankly, that it was much easier being debilitated than rehabilitated. Everyone warned me about it. Telling me to get ready for boot camp. But I thank God for every grueling moment, believe me. It was a huge obstacle getting beyond the ventilator above all else. It took me two and a half months before I was able to breathe completely free of it and it really sapped a lot of my stamina. But, after that was over I was able to move more rapidly to walking with less assistance, and believe it or not, within four months of my injury I was ready to be released. Don't misunderstand me; I was still severely handicapped and not able to care for myself, but by the power and great mercy of God I was now being referred to as a walking miracle. I was completely wheelchair-free and walking with the simple aid of a single-tip cane. I went on to outpatient therapy and soon was able to walk without the cane. I later moved on to higher resistance training and weight lifting etc. As time passes I continue to enhance my abilities, and it's an honor to testify to the saving power of Christ Jesus!
