When I set out on a climb on the 14,000-foot Mount Shasta in Northern California on September 26, 2020, I didn’t think that my life was about to change dramatically. At an elevation of about 11,000 feet, I fell, breaking my femur, back, leg, and ankle. For what felt like ages, I huddled there wondering if I’d survive. I was ultimately rescued by a search and rescue team that spotted my headlamp and airlifted my battered body off the mountain. But that was only the start of my journey to recovery.

 

My story is one of miracles, perseverance, and trusting in God. Hannah and Luke were my angels in the journey of telling my story.

 

When I finished reading the first draft of my book, I was in tears, I was in love. It was perfect. I could not have been happier with the outcome, even though I was just looking at the first draft.

This process was everything I dreamed of.