Strength For The Journey
by Jordan B. Colletta

It was a beautiful morning in August of 2006.  I was working in my backyard and had just
positioned my ladder to climb up a few feet.  My feet weren’t two feet off the ground  
when the ladder began it decent to the deck floor.  I reached for a pole with my right hand,
while hanging on for dear life with my left.  But it’s hard to defy gravity!
When the aluminum ladder reached the wooden deck, it pinned my left hand under it.  As
I got up, I realized my left hand felt different.  Looking at my glove, I noticed three slits.   
Unfortunately, the aluminum ladder cut through both tendons of my Index finger and my
second finger.  Fortunately, it only got one tendon of my third finger. Unfortunately, I
could not move those three fingers.  
When I arrived at the hospital I was happy to hear that a hand trauma surgeon, Doctor C.,
was on duty.  As he walked through the doorway, I could tell that little rattled him.  With
a steady voice he explained that the injury I had sustained was serious.  Dr. C. went on to
say that he was schooled in a special technique that maximized recovery.  He also stated if
the same injury happened in the 70’s, there would be no repairing my hand.
As I listened to his words, I was thankful that Dr. C. was an expert at  these type of hand
injuries.  But then it hit me.  Would this injury prevent me from playing guitar with the
Jordan B. Band, a music evangelization ministry that I had founded years earlier?  As the
question left my mouth, I closed my eyes just waiting for Dr. C.’s response.  The good
news was that he didn’t rule it out.  But you can tell when someone is being nice!
At that point, I realized that this was truly out of my control.  If the Lord wanted me to
continue evangelizing through the Jordan B. Band, it would be up to him.  With that said,
I lifted it up to the Lord and braced for his answer.
The surgery took six hours and when I awoke my hand looked like a mummy with layers
of wrap. By the grace of God, my wife was there reassuring me that all went well and that
it would work out.  I believed her.
It took a special device that Dr. C. prescribed and about nine months of physical therapy
before I could even hold a guitar.  I remember having such limited movement that I could
barely hold down a string, let-alone play a chord.  My fingers were so tender that my
blood ran cold when I lightly touched a string.  But with medical tape covering my
fingertips, I began playing little-by-little.
As those early days of recovery past, the Lord made it clearly known that I would be able
to play again.  And that this seemingly impossible recovery would serve as my testimony
of Christ’s message of hope to the homeless men to which the Jordan B. Band ministers.
Although it’s difficult to understand why things like this happen, I am thankful that the
Lord provides strength for our journey.  And purpose too.

God bless!
Jordan B