What You Really Look Like

No one expects to be in a car crash.

Many "if only"s crowded my mind as I lay in the hospital bed, hooked up to many machines that monitored me, helped to heal me, and constantly remind me that I would never be the same again.

If only I had said no.

If only I had left my apartment a few minutes later.

If only I had not felt the need to purchase a new outfit for our date.

If any of these things had happened, maybe I wouldn't have been hit by the drunk driver on my way to Kohls.

But I had, and now I would never be able to walk again, and my face was covered in gruesome scars. I wondered if I would ever be able to look in a mirror again without being subdued by an overwhelming sea of "if only"s.

We had been dating for almost a year, and when he asked me out once more, I didn't hesitate when I said yes. I had decided the occasion merited a new outfit and was on my way to Kohls when my car was hit by the drunk driver.

I don't know why I desired something new to wear on our date, but I do know that the shopping trip landed me in the Emergency Room. The "if only"s kept reminding me that if I hadn't wanted a new outfit, I wouldn't now be disabled and disfigured.

If only...

If only...

If only...

Along with the "if only"s came sadness for relationships that could have been, but now will never be because of what I now look like.

I knew that my unsightly face and wheelchair would deter friendships that I might have had, if only...

And then there was the distinct possibility that my destroyed features would destroy relationships I already had. What if it would cause him to break up with me?

If only...

If only...

If only...

Hot tears streamed down my scarred face. All I had wanted was a new outfit, and yet that simple shopping trip had changed, no, ruined my life! I would never be the same again, on the outside and inside.

My mind had moved on from all the "if only"s. Instead, it filled with one terrible word, one terrible question.

Why?!

I felt completely alone. Alone in my despair. Alone in my hopelessness. Alone with my "why"s and "if only"s.

A motherly-looking nurse entered the room.

She scanned the machines and, finding nothing amiss, walked over to me and gently wiped the tears off my face with the hem of her sleeve.

She smiled fondly at me.

"Your boyfriend would like to see you," she said in a voice that made me think that maybe, just maybe, everything would turn out all right. "Shall I let him in?"

I smiled sadly. He probably wanted to break up with me. To say that he didn't want someone disfigured and disabled like me.

I figured it would be best to get this over with. I didn't think I could bear the agony of waiting for him to break my heart.

I nodded sorrowfully at the nurse. I had accepted my fate.

"You can let him in."

She smiled and scurried out of the room. It annoyed me that she smiled when I was about to break up with my boyfriend.

When he came in, he was smiling and fiddling with something in his pocket. This confused me. I didn't think this was how a break-up would work.

And then his arms were around me, his lips pressed against mine. In an instant, all my fears were dispelled. My loneliness and despair were no more. In that moment, all I felt was pure happiness.

I had never felt so relieved to be wrong in my whole life.

He pulled away and smiled at me.

I felt that I would burst with joy! A wonderful, amazing joy that I thought would have been impossible after what I had been through! After seeing my face in the mirror, I thought I could never again have joy like I did in that incredible moment!

"I love you," he said gently. "You are still beautiful."

I was crying again, but no longer from sadness. My marred face did not stop him from loving me! I was not alone as I had thought I had been. I was loved!

"This," he continued, tracing my plethora of scars. "means nothing to me. I love you because of who you are on the inside, not because of what you look like on the outside. The scars, the fact that you can no longer walk, does not make you any less beautiful to me."

He kissed me again and I felt, for the first time since the car crash, that I was beautiful. And for the first time, I no longer cared about my disfigured face or my paralysis.

He pulled away.

"Asha Hope Phoenix," he said, tugging a ring from his pocket. "Will you marry me?"

I gasped in surprise and delight. He really didn't care what I looked like!

"Yes!" I cried. "Yes, of course!"

With a magnificent smile, he kissed me passionately once more and slipped the ring on my finger.

The ring meant more to me than just an engagement. It meant that the scarred face that I thought could not be loved was loved. It meant that the paralyzed body I thought could not be valued was valued. It meant that I was loved and valued and not judged by my outward appearance.

I would forever treasure this moment.

It is not what you look like on the outside that characterizes you. It is moments like this that shape your heart and define who you are. Not everyone can see it, but those who do love you for it.

No one expects to be in a car crash.

But I, for one, am no longer consumed by "if only"s. I am consumed by "Thank you, Lord!"