
As a survivor of life-threatening trauma, Marina has shared her dramatic testimony of God’s redemption, healing, and the hope she has in Christ with audiences worldwide.
My husband and I were involved in a violent car crash that nearly claimed our lives. Through trauma, memory loss, and a long road to recovery, my faith became the anchor. This is my testimony—how God redeemed suffering into purpose, healing, and hope in Christ.
"Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death ..." (Ps 23)
In 2014, my husband and I were in a head-on collision north of Toronto on Highway 69. The combined impact was about 125 mph; the other driver did not survive, and we didn’t know if we would either.
I woke in a hospital bed to a life upended. At the crash site, first responders immobilized me, preventing fatal internal bleeding—had I tried to stand, I likely would have died before leaving the car. At the hospital, a top surgeon rushed me straight into the operating room for life-saving emergency surgery, examining my organs by hand; a second surgeon repaired four lacerations to my bowels. I believe God placed these skilled people on my path.
"When the righteous cry for help, the Lord hears and delivers them." (Ps 34)
My first urgent need was to hold on to hope as the horror of what happened sank in. When I woke after surgery, my husband’s condition was still uncertain. I was completely disoriented—barely able to communicate and struggling with memory loss. Yet God was present. For the entire first week, a team of tender-hearted ICU nurses never left my side.
Doctors told me I’d sustained significant physical injuries and a minor brain injury. In the days that followed, I was diagnosed with severe PTSD and other cognitive and emotional impairments.
Even so, it could have been worse. While reconstructing the crash, a detective told us their software could not produce a scenario in which my husband survived. He explained that when the brakes failed and all seemed lost, he threw his body over the center console to shield me from glass and debris, holding my head against the headrest to lessen whiplash. That split-second decision likely spared me a far worse brain injury—and saved his life when the engine was driven up into his seat.
Doctors told me I’d sustained significant physical injuries and a minor brain injury. In the days that followed, I was diagnosed with severe PTSD and other cognitive and emotional impairments.
Even so, it could have been worse. While reconstructing the crash, a detective told us their software could not produce a scenario in which my husband survived. He explained that when the brakes failed and all seemed lost, he threw his body over the center console to shield me from glass and debris, holding my head against the headrest to lessen whiplash. That split-second decision likely spared me a far worse brain injury—and saved his life when the engine was driven up into his seat.
"I will strengthen you, I will help you." (Isa 41)
Our road to recovery has been long. I’ve learned to face depression, anxiety, and hypervigilance. Regaining cognitive function was slow and required reordering my life—and accepting that some memories might never return.
Most painful of all was being told I would not be able to have children, and that pregnancy would be both risky and painful if it occurred.
Most painful of all was being told I would not be able to have children, and that pregnancy would be both risky and painful if it occurred.
But God’s ways are beyond our imagination. God takes the most impossible situations and turns them for good. God takes the broken pieces of our lives and puts us back together. God picks us up when we can’t walk any further. When all seems lost, God redeems our life and fills us with joy.
"The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it." (John 1)
Today, my life is a testimony that with God, all things are possible. My husband and I live in South Florida, where our injuries continue to heal. By God’s grace, we have a wonderful daughter, Willow Grace Hannah—the daily delight of our lives.
Despite lingering aches and pains—reminders of what might have been—we enjoy a joyful life filled with laughter and daily living-room dance parties (often to Christmas music). We worship and serve at our local church, grateful for a community that gives our souls rest.
Despite lingering aches and pains—reminders of what might have been—we enjoy a joyful life filled with laughter and daily living-room dance parties (often to Christmas music). We worship and serve at our local church, grateful for a community that gives our souls rest.