by Chris Norton
He had the idea that we take communion together and share a moment to ourselves. As someone from our church sang “When I Say I Do” by Matthew West, we turned our backs to the audience, ate of the bread, and drank from the cup to symbolize Christ’s sacrifice for us. Then Emily sat in my lap and instantly started crying. She told me how thankful she was that I was going to be her husband. We held one another until the song was over.
“Look,” I said, pointing to the sky. The clouds that had covered the sky in one gloomy gray mass broke apart for the first time all day. “It looks like heaven is looking down on our ceremony.”
EMILY
Before the wedding I told Chris I wanted our ceremony to feel like we were the only ones there. “I want it to be me and you,” I said, “and it’s just us coming together as one.”
As the song played and Chris and I sat together, facing away from the audience, I had that feeling I’d always wanted. There in his arms, I knew once again that as long as I had him, everything would be okay. This man had pushed through one of the worst things imaginable but somehow still had a positive outlook on life. Instead of being defeated by his miniscule odds of moving anything below his neck again, Chris was motivated to defy them. Chris challenged me not to worry about the minor inconveniences of life but to look on the bright side. When I was at my lowest point, when I gave him every reason to leave, he stayed by my side. And he looked past his apprehension about foster parenting to welcome kids into our home and make a lasting difference in their lives.
Tears filled my eyes as I sat on his lap. God had brought us together; there was no doubt about that. Whatever we faced in the future, I knew we would get through it together, and I was overcome with peace and gratitude.
Finally, the pastor said the words I had longed to hear. “I now pronounce you husband and wife.”
I threw my arms around Chris’s neck and shouted, “We’re married!” In my excitement, I forgot that Chris was wearing a microphone, and everyone in the crowd heard my outburst too. I threw back my head and laughed before kissing Chris—our first kiss as husband and wife.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you Mr. and Mrs. Norton,” the pastor said as the crowd cheered.
Just like we practiced, I took Chris’s hands in mine and helped him push out of his chair and to a standing position. But when I looked down, I stifled a gasp. His pant leg was stuck halfway up his calf, and you could see his urinary leg bag and all its contents. Oh my gosh! I thought. The photographer is here. The videographer is here. People magazine is here for crying out loud. Chris does not want his leg bag in People magazine.
I knelt down as quickly as I could to pull down his pant leg. Either I pulled too hard or his belt wasn’t tight enough, because his shirt came untucked and his belly button popped out.
“Emily, get in front of me,” Chris whispered.
“What? I’m not walking in front of you.”
“No, my shirt. Fix my shirt.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. This was another reminder that life wasn’t perfect, and that was okay. Instead of getting upset, I made a joke of it. “We don’t want him to lose his pants!” I said as I moved in front of him, tightening his belt and fixing his shirt. Everyone in the audience was cracking up.
Finally, we stood side by side and prepared to walk. Then it hit me that we hadn’t factored my veil into our practice. I was wearing a cathedral-length veil, and the wind was whipping it around. It was too risky to take the chance. At the last second, I ripped it out of my hair and handed it to Marisa. I used to hate imperfections like that, but that day, I was thankful they happened. The day wasn’t about the walk or proving how hard we’d worked. It was about honoring God and celebrating what he had done.
CHRIS
A single ray of sunshine burst through the clouds as I gripped Emily’s shoulder and took my first step. Any nerves or tension I felt completely disappeared. We’re going to crush this, I thought.
Seven and a half years ago, those seven yards that stretched in front of me would have seemed insurmountable. On that day so long ago, the worst day of my life, I questioned God for taking away everything I loved and any hope I had for an independent, fulfilling future.
Today, on the best day of my life, I realized that what I thought was an ending was only the beginning. God’s plan didn’t look like mine, and I was so grateful for that. If I hadn’t been injured, I never would have met Emily. God used my injury to change not only my life but also the lives of many others.
I smiled as Emily and I walked arm in arm, slowly clearing one yard, then another. Every inch felt like a triumph, not because of the applause but because I knew God was with us. These steps weren’t for the people surrounding us or the cameras recording our every move. They were an act of surrender to God. Our lives wouldn’t be comfortable. That was a guarantee. But when God said the word, we would say yes, whether that meant training a paralyzed man to walk or caring for five kids in one house. Walking wasn’t scary as long as we stayed on his path.
I could have kept going, but when we reached the end of the aisle, Emily and I turned to one another and kissed as the crowd cheered. “We did it,” she said to me, looking up into my eyes. “I love you.”
Standing there, holding my new wife, I knew our life together was nothing short of a miracle. With God, all things truly are possible. The two of us are living proof of that.
EPILOGUE
Wouldn’t Change a Thing
EMILY AND CHRIS
We’d be lying if we said there weren’t times during our long journey to our wedding day that we didn’t cry out to God and yell, What are you doing? How could you let this happen to me?
When we pictured our futures growing up, neither of us imagined catastrophic spinal cord injuries or crippling depression. We had our own plans for our lives, and we didn’t consult God in the process. Clearly, we knew better than he did, and how dare he yank the rug out from under us and turn our lives upside down?
But as we walked down the aisle together at our wedding, our friends and family cheering with tears in their eyes, God’s hand was evident. Every twist and turn in our lives had led us to this moment.
As crazy as it might sound, Chris is grateful that he found himself in the wrong place at the wrong time during that fateful Luther College football game. If life had continued as Chris had planned it, he might have settled for a normal life in the business world, spending his weekend at that lake house he dreamed of. God had something bigger in mind when he allowed Chris to lose all movement below his neck. What everyone else saw as a weakness, God saw as a strength. He stripped Chris of everything he thought he knew and forced him to lean on God in radical new ways.
The determination Chris used to channel into practicing free throws in the driveway took on a new purpose—learning to walk again. He gritted his teeth and pushed himself to do one more rep, one more minute, one more hour. At the time, he thought his hours in physical therapy or at Barwis Methods would just prove the doctors wrong, and maybe even help him regain full mobility. Once again, God had a bigger plan. We never imagined that one simple goal of walking at a college graduation, and later, at our wedding, would end up reaching millions of people. God has used our story to inspire people who had lost hope that the Lord was still in the business of the impossible. We’re still so incredibly humbled to be used by him in this way.
Emily never thought she could fall into depression. In her mind, depression was only for people who experienced something tragic, not an independent girl with a great life. We didn’t understand why she seemingly became a different person overnight, bitterly angry and chronically exhausted. We didn’t understand the constant fighting and bickering that suddenly plagued our relationship after two years of peace. And we certainly never thought we’d reach the low of Emily shoving Chris’s belongings into trash bags and shouting that she never wanted to see him again.
But God refused to leave us in that dark place. Instead, he drew near to u
s as we attended Christ Fellowship Church, giving Emily the strength she needed to seek out help for her depression. Both of us learned what we had never understood—depression is a health issue that needs medical treatment, just as you would treat a broken bone. It’s not something you can simply overcome by thinking positive thoughts. Emily’s depression gave us a newfound understanding and empathy for the millions of people struggling with mental health every day. Not only can we relate to their struggle, but we’re also committed to breaking the stigma of mental health and encouraging people to get help before it’s too late. Anyone, regardless of their income or social status, can struggle with depression, anxiety, and a long list of illnesses. We thank God that Emily found help before it was too late. It’s our prayer that God would use us to help others do the same.
As the fog cleared and the dust settled, we discovered that our relationship was stronger than ever. Giving up would have been so easy during those difficult days. It’s easier to walk away than to fight for one another. By God’s grace, we stuck together even when it hurt. We clung to faith in knowing these days would not last forever. Standing together on our wedding day, we knew that more dark days would come. We know our relationship will be tested again, that there will be days when one or both of us would rather walk away. But we also know that when God is the center of our relationship, we’ll find the strength to stick together once again.
Most incredibly, God has used our love for each other to create a family. Neither of us could have imagined that we’d parent five children at one time in our early twenties and that we would foster fifteen kids. It’s a testament to how God has grown our faith—because we relied on him, we bought a bigger place to live and a bigger vehicle to make room for more children.
We don’t know what our family will always look like, but we could not be more excited about five more permanent additions. Whittley, who has been part of Emily’s life for more than a decade, officially became our daughter a couple of months after we finished writing this book. We’ve always been her family. Then, only two months later, we adopted the four sisters, Cali, Sara, Sam, and Haley. Now, through the beautiful gift of adoption, our relationship is officially recognized by law.
By now it’s safe to say we have no idea what the future holds. If the past is any indicator, it won’t look anything like what we imagine even now. God’s plans are always bigger and better than our own. We can’t wait to see how God uses us next.
Photos
I’m making a diving tackle for my high school football team, Bondurant-Farrar, in 2009 in the first round of high school playoffs. I’m in blue.
My family attended and supported every activity I was in. Here I am with my dad, Terry Norton, and my mom, Deb Norton, on senior night of fall 2009.
My high school graduation with longtime friend Logan Hamm, class of 2010, Bondurant-Farrar High School.
After a home football game at Luther College with teammates Richie Vickers (#17) and Shawn Burrows (#19), fall 2010. Richie was also my college roommate.
Nicole Thomas Photography, Bondurant, Iowa
Here I am on a gurney, being taken off the helicopter by EMTs during a film reenactment of October 16, 2010, for my documentary film 7 Yards: The Chris Norton Story.
Nicole Thomas Photography, Bondurant, Iowa
I am being transported through the hospital to get prepped for surgery, during a film reenactment of October 16, 2010, for my documentary film 7 Yards: The Chris Norton Story.
X-ray taken of my neck fracture at Winneshiek Medical Center before being flown to Mayo Clinic, October 16, 2010.
Standing on the Lokomat machine at Mayo Clinic, fully weight bearing and balancing on my legs, during a physical therapy session, fall 2011.
Our family celebrated Christmas in the hospital of Mayo Clinic. From left: Aunt Ginger Palmer; Uncle Gary Palmer; my sister Alex McManus (formerly Norton); me; my sister Katie Norton; Grandma Virginia; my dad, Terry Norton; and my mom, Deb Norton.
My college friends and teammates brought ugly Christmas sweaters for a Christmas card, winter 2010. They visited me a lot when I was in the hospital and were great company. From left: Zac Pearson, Shawn Burrows, me, Richie Vickers, Eric Essendrup, Tanner Douglas.
My sisters, Alex and Katie, in my hospital room at Mayo Clinic, fall 2010. They were by my side constantly while I was in the hospital. Every weekend they were there, driving six hours round trip.
My old dorm room and my first visit there since my injury. We had our football banquet that night, February 2011. I am with my college buddies plus our floor’s RA. From left: Tim (RA), Eric Essendrup, Rich Vickers, Shawn Burrows, Tanner Douglas, Spencer Bruess.
Our very first photo together, taken the first night Emily and I met at Iowa State University, August 2013.
Tyler Rinken
Tyler Rinken
I surprised Emily with a proposal the day before my graduation, May 2015. Emily read “Will you marry me?” when we came into the room of the restaurant. Her expression in the picture says it all.
Tyler Rinken
After the proposal my family and friends celebrated with us. My college friends came and greeted us. From left: Richie Vickers, Alex Peterson (a.k.a. A.P.), me, Rich Holton, Emily, Zac Pearson, Tanner Douglas.
Emily graduated from the University of Northern Iowa in 2014, and we celebrated with her family and with Whittley.
Emily and I at Barwis Methods, practicing walking in the dress shoes I used for my college graduation, May 2015.
During my final semester of college, I relocated to Plymouth, Michigan, to train for my graduation walk at Barwis Methods, February 2015.
Mike Barwis stretching me out before walking during my evaluation. Emily and I were scouting out their training facility before moving, August 2014.
Aaron Lurth Photography
Waving to the crowd after making my graduation walk and receiving my diploma, May 2015.
Tyler Rinken
Sharing my message of hope, grit, and faith to audiences across the globe.
Tyler Rinken
Before I graduated from college, I started sharing my story at schools to inspire students to overcome their challenges, which gave my pain a purpose.
The Summers family has been extremely supportive of us. We came back for the high school graduation of Emily’s younger brother, May 2017. From left: Michael (older brother), Tim (Dad), David (younger brother), Kelly (Mom), me, Emily, Marisa (younger sister).
My family during the Chris Norton Foundation’s Fundraiser dinner, February 2017. From left: Emily, Deb (Mom), Terry (Dad), Bill (brother-in-law), Alex (older sister), Katie (younger sister).
We celebrated Emily’s twenty-fourth birthday in our apartment in Florida with Whittley, whom we were fostering at the time, December 2016.
Emily and I with Robin Roberts on the set of Good Morning America after being interviewed about our wedding walk, April 2018.
Emily and I in Times Square. We were there for the filming of Say Yes to the Dress, October 2017.
Sarah Kate, Photographer
Emily and I saying our vows, April 21, 2018.
Sarah Kate, Photographer
Emily and I share a moment during communion at our wedding, April 21, 2018.
Sarah Kate, Photographer
Emily and I share our first kiss as a married couple, April 21, 2018.
Emily with Whittley before Whittley’s freshman year homecoming, fall 2012.
Emily and I with the five children we were fostering, July 2018.
Michale Crumly of Mississippi Pearl Photography
Emily and I and our five girls outside the courthouse before we legally adopted Whittley, December 11, 2018.
1 “Burners and stingers are injuries that occur when nerves in the neck and shoulder are stretched or compressed after an impact. These injuries are common in contact or collision sports, and are named for the stinging or burning pain that spreads from the shoulder to the hand. A burner or stinger can feel like an
electric shock or lightning bolt down the arm. In most cases, burners and stingers are temporary and symptoms quickly go away.” https://orthoinfo.aaos.org/en/diseases--conditions/burners-and-stingers/
1 You can read a more in-depth account of my recovery in the book I wrote with my dad, The Power of Faith When Tragedy Strikes.