By Christy Margritz 
Life. It hits you in waves. Sometimes they barely brush our legs and others hit as tidal waves. Crashing over us as we struggle for air. In those moments we are desperate for our flotation device.
Those tidal waves hit on a dreary winter day. My husband had been in a horrendous car accident. By all earthly standards, he should have died that day. I remember sitting in a hospital hours away from home just waiting. I was begging God to send my flotation device. Send me something to bring my head out of the water so I could breathe again.
God gave me a surgeon.
A man I will never forget walked into my life that afternoon to lift my head above the water so I could take that breath.
My husband’s accident happened about an hour away from our house. He was on his way to a work meeting when the collision occurred. By the time I arrived at the hospital they had already done emergency surgery and were prepping to send him to the nearest trauma center. They gowned me and ushered me back to an operating room where only my husband’s right hand and mouth were visible. You could tell the nurse had quickly cleaned his hand as they draped him for me to come in. I had just a minute to hold his hand, tell him I loved him, and to fight hell and back for our kids and myself before the flight crew was ready to prep him. From the parking lot I watched the helicopter take off, not knowing what would happen next.
When we checked in at the trauma center we were told he was taken straight to ICU and were given a room number. I navigated the halls as quickly as possible to reach the doors of ICU only to find out he was already taken to have more surgery done and that I could wait for updates in the surgical waiting area. I waited. Gasping for air as the waves crashed. Would I be able to come up for air? God, where are you?
God gave me a surgeon.
The sweetest man in scrubs came out. He filled me and the family that was with me in on how surgery went and what the next few hours and days would look like. Nothing easy to digest. But then he looked me straight in the eyes and asked, “Do you have faith?” I am not sure if I nodded or said yes, but he gave a slight smile with, “Not some things, all things! We are going to get your boy back!” Air, sweet air! The waves still crashed, but my head was above the water!
God gave me a surgeon.
That man may never know how much he changed my life during one of the most difficult circumstances our family has been through, but he was my flotation device. Walking in to the specialty clinic two weeks after being dismissed from rehab, that same man with the biggest smile on his face said, “See, I told you we’d get your boy back!” And it was the whisper of God saying, “See, I never left your side!”
And I’m so thankful God gave me a surgeon.
Pictured: Dr. Stanley Okuson, MD, trauma surgeon at Bryan West Hopsital in Lincoln, NE
by Adam LaSalle 
by A.M. Everett 
by Abigail Hofland 
by Leslie McCaddon 
by Brittany Moore 
by Crystal Ligon 
by Maria Warner 
by Chelsea Drown 
