I’m watching the local ten o’clock news the other night, and somewhere in the middle of the broadcast they run a story about a man by the name of Jeff Fabry. Jeff Fabry is a world champion archer who happens to have only one leg and one arm. He shoots from a wheelchair, holding the bow with the one arm. To pull the string back, he bites a piece of dog collar material that’s been wrapped around the bowstring. He is astonishingly accurate. In the interview, he explains that he lost his right arm and leg as the result of a motorcycle accident at the age of 15. He talked about how, after the accident, he didn’t like having to stay home while his friends went hunting, so he “figured out a way to shoot. I didn’t let anything get in my way. And I think having that state of mind is what led me where I am today, because I don’t give up.”
Those words resonated deeply with me, because I had just been pondering the same thought. Not learning to shoot a bow and arrow, despite the influence of Katniss Everdeen and The Hunger Games; no, I’m talking about the ‘figuring out a way’ part.