This novel is based on a true story. I did not read it but from the excerpt below it sounds like I should have.
New Release....AWARD-WINNING and BESTSELLING AUTHOR
Parts of this memoir appeared on ESPN and in Rosie.
Fractured Not Broken is a true story of loss, faith, and a rare love that only happens in nonfiction.
In a sweeping and heart-wrenching narrative, Kelly exposes the truth about what happened after a drunk driver rendered her a quadriplegic. She shares how she found her way back—through faith and pain, her community, her family, and the love of a man she’d prayed for.
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"This book has been a true encouragement to me. Thank you Kelly for sharing your story— the loss and the unexpected joy— so that each reader can be uplifted knowing there is a full, rich life available to those who lean in to our Lord Jesus." —Renee Bondi Award-Winning Singer and Songwriter
"Life has its tragic moments of defeat, setbacks, and fracturing for everyone. Kelly's story proves, however, that individual momentum, personal progress, and genuine achievement can still be attained. Her courage and optimism are uplifting. Open these pages and experience the joy of ultimate victory." —Dr. Dennis E. Hensley, Author Jesus in All Four Seasons
"This is a real life story of heroic virtue—especially of courage, humility, and generosity—a triumph of faith, hope and love. This story involves the very essence of the human spirit, family, and community. To know Kelly and her journey of miracles is to know that with God all things are possible." —Most Reverend Charles C. Thompson Bishop of Evansville
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| Fractured Accident Scene |
The first day of school, I sat in the doorway observing the classroom, my room, the one my Young Life teens helped me decorate. We spent all summer traveling to and from Walmart searching for camping theme supplies. The room smelled of glue and crayons. A paper beetle fluttered on the window blind.
Everything was in place—bees, bugs, beetles, and trees. The words kindness, goodness, patience, peace, and joy, spelled out with twigs and glued on green construction paper, were taped to the blinds. Bibles were lined on a bookshelf. My desk sat to the side with my raised computer keyboard in the center. Outside the window was a view of the church entrance and a large oak tree.
Eighteen student desks were in a circle, arranged so I could weave in and out with easy access to each student.
At the top of the chalkboard was this Scripture, “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me (Philippians 4:13 NLT).” And on the classroom door was the quote, “Be the reflection of Christ,” surrounded by small, scattered mirrors.
Across the room, a bulletin board designed to showcase student work had this quote at the top, “To the world you are one person, but to one person—Jesus Christ—you are the world.”
Blayr, who’d volunteered to help me in the classroom, entered with her hand on her hips, observing. “It looks amazing.”
“Thanks. The teens really helped,” I said. They’d been my hands during the whole project.
“They said they had fun. You really have a creative eye.”
“I want my students to have a great year.”
Blayr placed her hand on my shoulder. “They will. They’re lucky to have you.”
The students arrived with backpacks stuffed with pencils, markers, gym shoes, and other supplies. In five minutes, the room went from silence to mayhem.
“Set your backpacks and supplies against the wall,” I instructed. “We’re going to do an activity before we get started.”
After they put their backpacks down, they turned to me, and I invited them to sit on the floor in front of me. “The janitor informed me that we’re running out of toilet paper and we only have this roll for the day.” I nodded to a roll of toilet paper in my lap. “Take as many sheets as you think you’ll need today.”
Their eyes widened. Hesitatingly, one-by-one they lined up and tore off sheets of paper.
“Count your squares,” I said.
They counted their sheets, their brows wrinkled with puzzlement.
“If you have three sheets you need to tell the class three things about yourself. If you have five, you’ll need to tell us five things.”
Their jaws dropped. A girl giggled.
“You mean, we won’t really use this… for… the bathroom?” a boy asked.
“No,” I said. “I made that up to get your attention.”
They laughed and I did too.
After they shared information about themselves, I talked about the golden rule. “If everybody follows the golden rule then all the other rules will be obsolete.”
I spoke about my disability and what I could and could not do. I demonstrated what the chair controls did, let them gape at the scar on my neck, and told them the plates beneath the scar were what kept my head up. I gave them permission to ask me anything they wanted to ask me.
One advantage to being in the chair was that fifth graders were forced to address me at eye level. Stretching the truth was a lot more difficult for them to do when I stared openly at them, mere inches from their face.
“There will be times when I need someone to write on the board and pass out papers. Could you help me with those tasks?”
Students raised their hands and shook them high in the air.
“I will, I will.”
They competed to be my helper, to retrieve a dropped item, to pass out papers, to push the elevator button, to bring me a hot lunch from the cafeteria. Kids wanted to help; they fought for the opportunity. They all wanted a turn to go to the board.
Throughout the year, Principal Schneiders conducted my performance reviews, but I never knew when he’d show up in my classroom. One day he came during science class. The lesson was about the anatomy of a cell. Students gathered around me on the floor in a circle with their books open.
One student passed out oatmeal cream cookies to everyone. Another student passed out a red Hot Tamale candy, a green jellybean, a caramel, and sprinkles.
“Don’t eat anything,” I said.
Once they each had their ingredients, I began the lesson.
Mr. Schneiders sat in the corner observing.
“Your cookie represents a cell membrane,” I began. “When the cell divides it breaks apart in two separate pieces. Go ahead and split yours in half.”
The students broke their cookies. “The mitochondria are the powerhouses of the cell. They convert nutrients to energy. Let’s make those the red Hot Tamale. Go ahead and add that to your cookie.” I paused. “The green jelly bean will be the vacuoles. They hold the food, water, and the waste. The caramel is the nucleus, which provides the “brains” for the whole operation. And finally, the icing is the cytoplasm, the fluid that fills the cell.”
They followed along in their books and studied the diagrams. While the students added the ingredients to their cookies, I explained what each one did and how it was instrumental in the production of cells.
“And now for the best part,” I said. “You may return to your seats and eat your cell and discuss which part tastes the best.”
The students laughed, picked up their books and the cell ingredients, and returned to their seats. One student gave her cookie to Mr. Schnieders.
Kelly SchaeferKelly is a true heroine, finding God as she battles with a life as a quadriplegic. Overcoming obstacles every day, she's a speaker, teacher, and Skittles lover. Michelle, Kelly's aunt, is an award-winning and bestselling author who penned Kelly's memoir to bring others hope. She writes stories that move her, and this one is close to her heart.
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Time for celebrations
Michelle Weidenbenner
Michelle is a fulltime employee of God’s kingdom, writing and encouraging writers every day. She’s often a sucker for emotional stories, her sensitive side fueling the passion for her character’s plights, often giving her the ability to show readers the “other” side of the story.
She grew up in the burbs of Detroit with five brothers. No sisters. Each time her mom brought the boy bundle home from the hospital Michelle cried, certain her mom liked boys better than girls. But when her brothers pitched in with the cooking, cleaning, and babysitting—without drama, Michelle discovered having brothers wasn’t so bad. They even taught her how to take direct criticism without flinching, which comes in handy with book reviews.
Michelle is living her dream—writing every day and thanking God for the stories He puts in her path. When Michelle isn’t writing she’s winning ugly on the tennis court. She’s known as “Queen of the Rim Shots.” No joke. It’s ugly.
Find the author on the following pages.....
She grew up in the burbs of Detroit with five brothers. No sisters. Each time her mom brought the boy bundle home from the hospital Michelle cried, certain her mom liked boys better than girls. But when her brothers pitched in with the cooking, cleaning, and babysitting—without drama, Michelle discovered having brothers wasn’t so bad. They even taught her how to take direct criticism without flinching, which comes in handy with book reviews.
Michelle is living her dream—writing every day and thanking God for the stories He puts in her path. When Michelle isn’t writing she’s winning ugly on the tennis court. She’s known as “Queen of the Rim Shots.” No joke. It’s ugly.
Find the author on the following pages.....
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12 comments :
Thanks for the giveaway! I live in a big city and I think things like that happen more in small towns. ;)
Thank you so much for sharing Fractured Not Broken today xx
The place where I lived, did come together for this one couple who the husband came back from war. He had been gone so long that the wife could not pay for her house and just had a really bad time dealing with the bank and other little things.. Everyone came together even the bank , a few grocery stores and a pharmacy.. They where able to not only get the medical,food, clothing, and even someone donated some new furniture to them..But also the mortgage on there home was paid up for 2 years for them ,, What a blessing..
When a co-worker's lost his house to fire. His co-workers and others in the area helped out. People got together for house items,cash and clothes.
Florida has a bad reputation for criminals, but when a child goes missing in Jacksonville and surrounding cities, everyone comes together to try to find the child. It's sad that that is when people come together, but at least they come together for something.
yes
Sounds like a great read. Great giveaway! Thanks for the chance to win!
I;ve to some benefit dinners for a local child with brain cancer. It was very inspiring!
A fellow teacher in our school district lost one son to a genetic heart condition of which they were unaware. Four years later her second son was in need of a heart transplant and our whole community got involved in helping this family through these traumatic events.
My family suffered a very tragic loss and we had only lived in the area for 6 months. The town brought cooked meals to us for over a month, I'll never forget how people I didn't even know cared for my family.
My community has rallied around our local animal shelter, with donations and fund raising.
They are rallying today in the park in our community to support the labor forces on this Labor Day.
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