I first got to know Lauren after hearing about her accident and discovering she was following me on Twitter. I sent her a tweet, and we have been in touch ever since. Now the tables have turned, and I am the one following Lauren in life . . . a life that is just getting started. Her story teaches us all that there are no accidents in life. Lauren reminds us that God has a master plan for each and every one of us, and hers is to use her voice and her remarkable story to inspire and help others. Still LoLo is a beautiful read that helps us remember that sometimes what feels like the end is really just the beginning.
Giuliana Rancic
Anchor, E! News
Lauren Scruggs’s story is the most inspirational journey I’ve ever had the opportunity to witness firsthand, and Still LoLo truly depicts this young woman’s perseverance and faith in the midst of tribulation. I have never seen a family stay so strong and committed to the Lord through such a life-changing event. Lauren’s steadfast love of Jesus and her willingness to trust in him with all her heart have done more for her friends and family than she will ever know. Her attitude, joy, and faith are daily reminders of what I aspire to be. I feel blessed to know her.
Tony Romo
Quarterback, Dallas Cowboys
I’ve personally known the Scruggs family and Lo for ten years. Watching them endure the last year has been tremendous as their faith in Jesus and confidence in his plans for their lives have encouraged and edified my own walk. God often gives stories to strengthen and encourage the weary heart. I think you’ll find this story to be one of those.
Matt Chandler
Lead pastor, The Village Church, Dallas
President, Acts 29 Church Planting Network
Our friends, Jeff and Cheryl Scruggs, have a powerful story of God’s amazing grace in their broken marriage. But then in a moment their family experienced a shocking calamity—and the story of his remarkable grace continues to be written daily in their lives.
Steve Farrar
Author of Point Man: How a Man Can Lead His Family
Mary Farrar
Author of Choices: For Women Who Long to Discover Life’s Best
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TYNDALE is a registered trademark of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc. Tyndale Momentum and the Tyndale Momentum logo are trademarks of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc. Tyndale Momentum is an imprint of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc.
Still LoLo: A Spinning Propeller, a Horrific Accident, and a Family’s Journey of Hope
Copyright © 2012 by Lauren Scruggs. All rights reserved.
1999 wedding photographs by pettitphotography.com.
Brittany’s wedding photograph taken by wedding photographer Jennefer Wilson.
Photograph of Lauren and Cheryl on couch by Kelly Moore Photography. Used with permission.
Photographs of airplane used courtesy of Marcus Brotherton.
Photographs from the LoLo Event copyright © 2012, courtesy of Karen Roe Photography.
All other interior photographs are from the Scruggs family’s personal collection and used with permission.
Front cover, jacket, and lookbook photographs taken by Stephen Vosloo. Copyright © 2012 Tyndale House Publishers, Inc. All rights reserved.
Designed by Stephen Vosloo
This work is a memoir. Certain names and characteristics have been changed, and some dialogue has been recreated.
Published in association with the literary agency of WordServe Literary Agency, www.wordserveliterary.com.
Unless otherwise indicated, all Scripture quotations are taken from the The Holy Bible, English Standard Version® (ESV®), copyright © 2001 by Crossway, a publishing ministry of Good News Publishers. Used by permission. All rights reserved.
Scripture quotations marked NLT are taken from the Holy Bible, New Living Translation, copyright © 1996, 2004, 2007 by Tyndale House Foundation. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc., Carol Stream, Illinois 60188. All rights reserved.
Scripture quotations marked NIV are taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version,® NIV.® Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.™ Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide. www.zondervan.com.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Scruggs, Lauren.
Still LoLo : a spinning propeller, a horrific accident, and a family’s journey of hope / by Lauren Scruggs and the Scruggs family with Marcus Brotherton.
p. cm.
ISBN 978-1-4143-7669-1 (hc)
1. Scruggs, Lauren. 2. Aircraft accident victims—Rehabilitation—Texas. 3. Women journalists—Texas—Biography. I. Brotherton, Marcus. II. Title.
TL553.7.S37 2012
363.12'4092--dc23
[B] 2012030266
Build: 2012-10-08 10:10:06
Thank you so much to each person who has helped me and my family following the accident.
Many of you I know, but many of you I don’t.
Words cannot express my level of gratitude for your encouragement, gifts, prayers, support, and ongoing concern.
This book is affectionately dedicated to you.
—Love, Lauren
Contents
Foreword by Bethany Hamilton
Overture
Chapter 1: An Unmistakable Premonition
Chapter 2: Horror
Chapter 3: Racing to the Hospital
Chapter 4: Life Unexpected
Chapter 5: Mimicked
Chapter 6: A Jolting Heartache
Chapter 7: Bittersweet Years
Chapter 8: Here Comes the Sun
Chapter 9: Discovery
Chapter 10: The Beginning of a Calling
Chapter 11: New York City
Chapter 12: Gossip Girl
Chapter 13: Strange Black Cloud
Chapter 14: Forbidden Fruit
Chapter 15: A Message I Needed to Hear
Chapter 16: Reconciled
Chapter 17: The Start of Something Wonderful
Chapter 18: LOLO Magazine
Chapter 19: A Painful Journey Back
Chapter 20: The Next Twenty-Four Hours
Chapter 21: Flickers of Recognition
Chapter 22: The End of Week One
Chapter 23: The End of Week Two
Chapter 24: Christmas
Chapter 25: Heavy Weather
Chapter 26: Hope Disguised
Chapter 27: Dana’s Picnic
Chapter 28: Vacation in the Snow
Chapter 29: My New Reality
Chapter 30: A Big Misunderstanding
Chapter 31: Restoration
Chapter 32: Giving Thanks
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
Notes
About the Lookbook
About the Authors and Collaborative Writer
“Here is the world. Beautiful and terrible things will happen. Don’t be afraid.”
—FREDERICK BUECHNER
Foreword by Bethany Hamilton
Lauren and I sat comfortably at the nail salon getting our toenails done. Chatting away, we joked about how we should get our fingernails done for half price since we each have only one hand! One of the girls doing our nails asked if we were best friends. We laughed and told her we had just met that day.
I was ecstatic to meet Lauren. We had talked on Skype a few months earlier during a call set up by my nonprofit organization, Friends of Bethany Hamilton, which reaches out to traumatic amputees and shark attack survivors. I made plans to meet up with Lauren during a visit I was making to Texas. Before our visit to the salon, Lauren and I sat over lunch with our moms and talked about our struggles, professional venture
s, food, guys, and our faith in Jesus Christ. We talked about anything and everything. We were able to relate on so many levels—first, as fellow followers of Christ, then as sisters in tragedy. It was a blast just getting acquainted!
Having gone through similar experiences, Lauren and I (and our mothers) could really identify with each other. About eight years before, I had been bitten by a shark while surfing and lost my entire left arm. I nearly lost my life as well. Now, after experiencing for myself how God can turn a terrible situation into a great blessing, I sat with Lauren. Just six months earlier she had suffered the loss of her left hand and eye. Yet the God-given joy and strength that comes from trusting him wholeheartedly emanated from her radiant smile.
Since the day we met, I’ve had a chance to read Still LoLo. It brought me through so many familiar emotions. I smiled, laughed, and cried as I read about what Lauren has encountered. Life often feels like a long, arduous climb, and I felt much of that pain as I read all that Lauren went through—from her parents’ struggles during her early childhood, to her challenges as a young woman trying to find her way in this world, to the night she lost her arm and almost lost her life.
I read with compassion about the struggles Lauren faced through all of these life-changing events. Yet in the face of so many overwhelming obstacles, Lauren, her parents, and her twin sister, Brittany, found their source of strength and hope in Jesus Christ—in much the same way that my family and I did.
The members of Lauren’s family each give their own perspective in Still LoLo, so they tell their story together. It’s a beautiful way to share the many struggles and triumphs this family has experienced. You’ll see how God mended and healed each of their hearts again and again. You’ll discover how he brought about unity and restoration through each difficulty they faced.
You’ll cheer as you read how Lauren’s determination and her family’s love sustained her after her life-threatening accident. One of my favorite stories in the book tells about the time, just days after her accident, when Lauren deliberately took thirty steps after her physical therapist asked if she might be able to walk twenty. Because of Lauren’s story, I have been freshly renewed, inspired, and motivated to take those extra “ten steps” in my own life. She is a beautiful ray of sunshine, and I am glad to have her as a friend.
As I read Still LoLo, I was brought back to that day I sat in the nail salon with Lauren. We looked like childhood friends as we shared our stories. I know I was encouraged by the hope that my new dear friend told me she was discovering on her journey through life.
As you venture into Still LoLo and learn more about Lauren’s attitude toward life, I hope you will gain the strength and motivation, as I have, to keep pressing on—no matter what struggles come your way. May you learn to live by Lauren’s definition of everyday courage: “Even when life hits you hard, keep on going.”
I look forward to watching LoLo succeed in life and hope to join her in some of her future endeavors.
Join this family on their journey, and be encouraged!
Aloha,
Bethany Hamilton
Author of Soul Surfer: A True Story of Faith, Family, and Fighting to Get Back on the Board
Overture
Lauren
The old man didn’t look like an angel, but years later I wondered if he was one.
He was sitting on a bench outside a sporting goods store in Plano, Texas, with his legs crossed casually. As he leaned back and looked into the sky, I noticed that his pants were tattered. A stain from a pen blotched the bottom of his shirt pocket. Near his side lay a clear, plastic ziplock bag. I didn’t want to be nosy and stare too long at the bag, but inside it I could see a pair of men’s underwear, a toothbrush, and the folded corner of an extra shirt. It was a beautiful day in 2002, not too hot, with a denim-blue sky and feathery clouds. I was fifteen.
“It’s . . . Joshua, isn’t it?” asked my dad hesitantly as we walked toward the bench and paused. “Joshua—right? Is that you?”
“Yes. I recognize you as well, my friend. I was a visitor in your Sunday school class at church last week.” The man’s words sounded too crisp to originate from Texas. He spoke with a lilt, not a drawl, like maybe years ago he’d lived in Kenya or Uganda.
“Yeah, I thought I recognized you from church,” said my dad. It was just the two of us on the way to the store. My twin sister, Brittany, and my mom were back at our house. “You waiting for somebody?” Dad’s voice was friendly, not accusing.
“Oh. No, my friend. I am just enjoying the day.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed my dad look closely at the man. “You live around here?”
“No, not here,” the man said slowly, as if choosing the right words. “I live over there. Down by the bridge.”
Dad winced. “Joshua, can I ask . . . have you eaten today?”
Joshua shook his head.
Dad nodded. “Then why don’t you come have dinner with us.”
I tucked a strand of blonde hair behind my ear and stayed quiet, letting Dad do all the talking. Several times Brittany and I had gone with Dad down to the projects in South Dallas to help out with an inner-city ministry, but inviting homeless people back to our house wasn’t anything we’d ever done before. We were the quintessential Texas suburban family. Two cars. Cowboys fans. There wasn’t an actual white picket fence around our yard, but there may as well have been. I thought it was cool for Dad to invite a homeless man to dinner, but I also felt a twinge of uneasiness. We were stepping into unknown territory, and I had no idea what would come next.
Joshua’s eyes brightened. “I would be very grateful for a meal. As long as it is okay with your wife.”
“Let me call Cheryl.” Dad flipped open his phone and hit speed dial. “I’m sure she won’t mind.”
I need to explain that it wasn’t out of the ordinary for Dad to talk to people he barely knew. He’s a real people person. But it was out of the ordinary for him to single out and remember a visitor from his Sunday school class. It wasn’t exactly a small gathering where you’d instantly notice someone new. This was a Dallas-sized Sunday school that several hundred people attended each week. It was more like a church-within-a-church, a large group where a lot of people came and went.
Joshua came home with us that night. We all just hung around the table in our kitchen, talking quickly and easily with Joshua like he was an old friend. He spoke easily, eloquently, almost regally.
But there was something strange about him too. He ate our salad, pot roast, and potatoes. He drank our sweet tea and said thanks. But he asked extensive questions about the food we ate, how it was prepared and where it came from, and he was careful to not let his meat touch his vegetables, almost like he had a prescribed way of living, a habit tied to another culture. After dinner was over, he asked to use our shower. Mom fidgeted in her chair, but Dad said yes right away and got up to show him where it was. After Joshua was situated, Dad took some toothpaste and deodorant and extra clothes to him.
A special meeting was being held at our church that night. I think it was a missions report. Mom and Dad took Joshua with them to the meeting while Brittany and I stayed home and did homework. When they came back, it was time for bed. Mom glanced at Dad, and Dad shrugged, got a blanket and clean sheets out of the closet, and showed Joshua to the guest room.
I didn’t know what to think of this homeless man sleeping in our house. He wasn’t tall or broad-shouldered, like Dad is, and he hadn’t showed any sign of being violent or anything. Secretly I wondered if he carried a knife, but even if he did, I knew Dad would protect us. In the morning Dad was leaving on a business trip for two days, and I didn’t know what would happen to the homeless man then. The whole night, things felt unpredictable.
The next morning, Joshua ate breakfast with us. He asked a lot of questions about the fruit and pancakes, and he drank orange juice, not coffee. Dad was going to take him to a hotel, and when Dad got back from his business trip he promised to drive him
over to the neighboring town of McKinney. There was a homeless shelter there called The Samaritan Inn that I knew helped people get back on their feet.
We hugged Joshua and said our good-byes. Dad drove him to the hotel and headed out on his trip, and it was just Mom, Brittany, and me in the house alone. I think I was brushing my teeth, getting ready for school, when I heard Brittany call from the guest room where she’d been taking the sheets off the bed. “Mom! I think you’re going to want to see this.” There was a tremor in her voice. I heard Mom’s footsteps pound down the hallway. I was right behind her. Brittany’s eyes were round. She passed the envelope to Mom.
Inside was a handwritten letter from Joshua. Tiny, perfect, single-spaced writing. I counted seven pages. After Mom read each page, she handed it to me. I gasped. Joshua had described our family to a tee, then written beyond what could be seen at the present time. That was the shocking part. His writing was laced with Scripture, and it was like he was seeing a clear image of us in a mirror where we could see only the reflection dimly. I’d compare his letter to a lengthy inscription in a high school yearbook, a prediction about our next years, about things still to come. Maybe he had experienced a feeling he hadn’t felt in a while, the warmth and closeness of a family, and he simply needed to express what he felt on paper.
“Your two daughters were angels to me in action and words,” he began, and there was a lot of kind description after that of every member of our family. For page after page, this homeless man wrote with the confident authority of a biblical prophet. I imagined him wearing camel skins for clothes and eating locusts and wild honey.
Specific to my sister, he wrote, “Brittany is the salt of the family. She will live a life of kindness with attainment of a man who will bring her to the top of the goal. Journey will be an avenue of success. And there will be an abundance of good luck in the family she will build.”
About me, he wrote, “Her sister will be a warrior. She will always win battles and bring good news and things of highest qualities. She will be aligned with VIPs. Her aptitude, love of family, and nature will be graced by the eminent people of the world. She will be a great traveler. Her words will penetrate the hearts of great men and women. She will bathe in the company of good friends. She is an inventor . . . and she will swim into this arena in another form of leadership.”
Still Lolo Page 1
