Category Archives: burntflesh

Her name is…”HERO”!

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As my youngest son prepares to hit the BIG 16th Birthday milestone, my mind begins to reflect on a very special friend. She has been a significant part of my youngest son’s life, as a matter of fact my entire family. We met her around the time my son was potty training. Her parents attended the same church we did, and our interaction with her was minimal, since she was attending college in Waxahachie. Little did we know a single embarrassing event would bind us together for the next 14 years. You guessed it…my youngest son christened her during a youth event my wife and I were participating in.

Over the years, she has played many roles in our lives: friend, sister, daughter, sitter, nurse, chaperone, teacher, worship leader and most recently care giver. There has never been a, non family, person in all our marriage and ministry who has made so many selfless sacrifices, personal & resource investment and timeless friend in our darkest and weakest hours.

After the accident, she moved in our home to care for us while we recovered. She continued to plan, coordinate and commute to work her school administrator position all while making sure we were fed, the house was in order, medicines were taken, appointments were met, injuries were cared for, etc, etc. Don’t get me wrong; so many friends, family and acquaintances stepped in to make our recovery as smooth as possible; however, it was this one single person who has been with us each step of the way.

Today, I want to honor our dear friend and care giver. Her family, coworkers and friends call her Danielle Taylor, but to me and my family…her name will always be “HERO”!

I Gave Up “normal” for Lent

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Fourteen weeks after the accident, I face the exact same struggle after coming home from a mission trip…returning to normal. It’s a fact once people experience God on the mission field, as well as walk through a traumatic event, they can never be the same again. We can never be normal because normal is never the same as it was before, it’s no longer good enough, or fulfilling enough. There’s more to life than just being normal. This morning as I was reading Numbers, which has got to be one of the most boring books in the Bible, I realized the children of Israel were far from normal. They were God’s chosen people and set apart, yet they constantly fought God to be like everyone else.

As always when the Holy Spirit begins to pour into my spirit truth, I tend to post some contentious things on Facebook & Twitter, which always results in losing friends and followers. Anyways, I want to restate a few post here:

  • “Fighting normal with a vengeance! Don’t like the company he keeps: contentment, complacency & comfortable. Prefer peculiar & extraordinary!”
  • “Normal & ordinary people are no threat to the kingdom of darkness. Peculiar people storm gates, raise the dead & turn the world upside down.”
  • “The kingdom of darkness attempts to assassinate those who are a threat. If satan’s not coming after us, we’re not a threat.”

Although I am not Catholic, I decided to give up “normal” for lent this year. I choose to be peculiar and extraordinary, or better yet “strange, odd, unusual or remarkably great“. Like my mission trips, the accident has forever etched its impact into my physical, emotional and spiritual DNA. I am forever changed, yet I am most grateful for the God’s grace. He allows me me to live, so I can love; serve, so I fulfill; and fight, so I can turn the world upside down.

Normal people don’t live, they exist. Normal people don’t serve, they consume. Normal people don’t fight, they conform.

The Princess Speaks

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This is a repost from the “Warrior Princess” herself, Becky Miller.

November 19, I embarked on a journey known as the Warrior Dash.  This journey was several months and some severe arm twisting in the making.  When I first read about the 3.1 hellish mile, 12 obstacle course, I thought, “sign me up!”   What I really meant was, “wonder who loves me enough to agree to run this with me?” Enter little brother David Crumpton.  I’m still not sure why he agreed, but I have a sneaking suspicion it was to get the nagging to cease.  I can kind of be a pain in the hind parts when I set a goal.

Race day dawned warm, dry and clear.  We arrived at the race site early enough to watch the other racers.  I felt slightly nervous about the obstacles, but I was determined to complete each one successfully, and together, we did just that!  I’m a stronger runner, but at a slim 6’2” David was much more compete navigating the obstacles, together we were a formidable pair.  Dirty and tired we crawled through the barbed wire, mud bath finish line to have Warrior Dash medals hung around our necks.  Sporting our new bling we gobbled down turkey legs and chugged Gatorade before heading for the group shower.  Prior to that day showering had always been a solo event, usually indoors.  Relatively mud-free we changed into clean, dry clothes and headed for home chatting about the super nacho celebratory feast I planned to prepare.

Less than one mile from our front door we were rear ended by an eighteen wheeler.  The truck crushed my side of the car and shoved us into oncoming traffic causing an SUV to drive up and over the other side of the car.  Here is all that’s left of my little Dodge Caliber. I awoke at Breckenridge Hospital with broken ribs, a broken clavicle and scapula, lacerated liver, four breaks in my neck and absolutely no memory of the accident.  Initially, I had no recollection of even being back in San Marcos after the race.  My first memory is of three beautiful angels named Holly, Christina and Jessica visiting my room and brushing out my hair.

Some may wonder why God allowed this accident to happen, but I do not.  The why is irrelevant, what matters instead is how God’s signature was extremely prevalent throughout the entire trauma.  I know that God chose to spare my life and that of my family because our work on earth is not yet complete.  There are still orphans to be rescued, widows to assist and hurting people who need to experience the love of Christ.  I am a broken vessel willing to be used in whatever capacity my Lord desires.

Daily I thank the Lord for the first responders who pried my broken body from the car (the door on my side would not open so I had to be removed another way) without causing permanent damage.  Daily I thank God for an amazing/skilled surgeon who studied at Johns Hopkins, and showed such compassion and care regarding my neck repair.  Daily I thank the Lord for use of my legs and for no permanent damage to my neurological system.

God has been gracious through the recovery process as well.  Despite all my injuries, I was released from the hospital and returned home a week after the accident, no rehab center for me, straight home.  No one, myself included, expected that.  The home health nurses, and physical/occupational therapists who visited me at home, after reading my file, expected to find me bedridden and down trodden.  Instead they were amazed by my mobility and good spirits.

My broken heart, a result from hurts inflicted in the past, has been completely restored through this process.   So many people reached out through prayer, hospital visits, phone calls, flowers, balloons, meals, home visits, and Facebook/Twitter posts that I no longer feel insignificant or invisible.  Not only am I secure in the love of my Savior, but in the love of my fellow man.  I do matter and it has been made obvious that my presence on this planet would be sorely missed.

A mere twenty-one days after the accident, my surgeon granted her permission for my return to work, halo and all.  I stand in awe of a magnificent God who carried me through. (More information on the accident can be found at burntflesh.com)

The Warrior Princess AKA Becky