I believe in the power of my father’s hands, and I don’t mean my biological father. One day way back when, when I was four years old I was sitting innocently in my house, my older brother Craig had just gotten a b b gun for Christmas. Let’s just say I was in the wrong place at the wrong time, I was accidentally shot in the head, still conscious I ran to my mom she, seeing what had happened, frantically rushed me to the hospital. I was operated on by a world renowned brain surgeon, Ben Carson which at the time meant nothing to me. He told my mother that I may suffer from mental retardation, or blindness. My family and dear friends prayed and prayed through out the whole process that I would make it out of surgery alive, let alone safely. After a year of recovery and rehabilitation I was fully healed without any traces, besides the huge scar, of the tragedy that had occurred. Now that I look back on this experience, from what I can remember and from what my family has told me, I’ve come to realize how truly blessed I am to be here today. I know that through the hands of the Lord and the hands of Doctor Carsen I was perfectly pieced back together without any complications. The voices of my loved ones were heard and answered by Heavenly Father. My life was spared. I’m not telling you this to preach about miracles, I am telling my story because it has forever changed my outlook on life. There is a power far greater than the doctor’s instruments that kept me here on earth. It is the power in God’s loving hands, his mighty hands that saved my life. I believe in the Lord, I know he hears our prayers and knows our needs. He gives life, and he takes it away, but he also sustains it. You don’t have to be the poster child of perfection for him to do so. There is a purpose for everything he does, and for why I am still here. I believe in the Power in his hands. There is a duty I need to fulfill in my lifetime. I hope I don’t let my Father down.