I joined the U.S. Army in 2008 as a combat engineer. I was pretty excited because it was a reminder of the promise that I made myself in 8th grade to join and protect my nation.
I already knew from word of mouth that basic training would be pretty brutal and intense, so when I started that whole process, it was an adventure for me. Whatever came my way, I felt like it was another challenge. I'm a very competitive person, I like to accomplish things people think I will never be able to.
In Afghanistan on July 2, 2011, I was supposed to have a day off, but my platoon leader came into our tent, woke us all up, and told us that we had a special mission. So, I grabbed all of my gear and went on the mission.
Just like every mission before that, we thought it would be pretty normal. Our daily tasks involved searching for improvised explosive devices (IEDs), driving around in our vehicles, looking for any bombs on the roads, and clearing the routes.
Little did I know that this particular day would be unlike any other.
I was driving around in our convoy, moving at the pace of just 5 miles per hour, ensuring we didn't miss anything. We found ourselves on the most dangerous route in the entire area but we were being extremely cautious, examining the ground for any signs of danger.
It was during that process that my vehicle unknowingly rolled over an IED. The person with the detonator, hiding behind a tree, pressed the button. In an instant, my truck flew into the air and slammed down onto its side.
The impact of the explosion was devastating. It not only sent my truck hurtling through the air, but it also resulted in the amputation of both my legs. My left femur was snapped in half, my pelvis shattered, and my spine dislocated from my pelvis. My right arm was snapped at a 90-degree angle, and I lost my right middle finger. The force of the impact caused my front teeth to be knocked out as my face struck the steering wheel. And internally, everything within my torso was destroyed, except for my heart and left lung.
Normally, the bottom of our truck is shaped like a V, designed to redirect any blasts upwards and away from the occupants. But this time, the IED found its way through that V-shaped opening and directly passed beneath the spot where I was sitting.
That was the first time an IED had ever penetrated a truck like mine, known as an RG-31. They had never managed to breach its defenses before, but this time they had discovered a way, and the explosive tore straight through.
There were two other soldiers with me during the incident: My truck commander, Sergeant Keinow, and my gunner, Specialist Krieger. Thankfully, both of them survived.
People often ask if I remember what happened when I was blown up, and the truth is, I remember it all too well. I was still conscious for most of it, which made the experience even more vivid in my mind.
I had to rely on my right broken arm to push myself off my truck commander, who was sitting in the passenger seat. As I looked down, I noticed that my uniform and pants were drenched in blood, from top to bottom. I knew I was injured, but I didn't know how bad it was until after.
Within the first two weeks at the hospital, I flatlined twice and technically died in Germany, but was thankfully revived. I remained in Germany for two weeks as the doctors performed surgeries on me. After that, I was transferred to Washington, D.C.
My dad was there with me for most of the time I spent in the hospital during those initial days.
I have distinct memories of my family members coming into the room to visit me. My siblings would enter, and I would be lying there, partially out of it. They would try to communicate with me, to talk and connect, but they couldn't hold back their tears.
Those moments were incredibly intense and filled with emotion.
In the hospital, the doctor informed me that I wouldn't be a candidate for prosthetics. But deep inside, it ignited a fire within me. I was determined to prove him wrong. If he thought I wouldn't be able to walk again, I was determined to do exactly that.
But the recovery process was tough. I came close to ending my life 12 times during that period, not because of the physical pain or the physical therapy, but because of the mental anguish. Looking in the mirror was the hardest part for me.
Thankfully, I turned to my faith to find strength and encouragement throughout it all. It reminded me that there's a purpose for my life, despite the challenges. Thanks to that, I was able to walk on prosthetic legs using intense physical therapy, in just six months.
In October 2012, I was in a mindset of seeking purpose and guidance from God. I felt prompted by God to pick up a guitar, which surprised me because although I was a drummer, I'd never played the guitar before.
But the message was clear: Pick up a guitar and pursue music.
Immediately after, I had an emotional moment while listening to a song on the radio called "Only a Mountain" by Jason Castro. The song reminded me that everything I was going through was just a mountain, something I could overcome with determination.
It deeply resonated with me that if I could triumph over all the pain and suffering, with God giving me strength and the Holy Spirit guiding me and reminding me of my passion for music, then others can find the same strength in their own challenges.
And it was exciting seeing how my vocal cords had healed from the damage. After the doctors removed everything from the tracheotomy, they accidentally messed up my vocal cords and told me I would have a funny way of speaking and never sing again.
I never realized how important those words of that song would be to me.
After going through therapy in Texas in 2012, I realized it was the best place for me to settle down. It gave me easy access to the support I needed with my prosthetics.
There was a particular moment when I became frustrated with a group of people who were mowing my lawn because I couldn't do it myself. They were incredibly rude, to say the least.
I decided that even if it took a while, I was going to mow my own lawn. I didn't want to depend on others. That's when a friend told me about Semper Fi & America's Fund and I learned how incredible they are in supporting veterans and their families.
So, I decided to give them a call. I wasn't exactly sure what they could do for veterans, but I figured it was worth a shot.
I told them: "Hey, I don't know if you guys can help me out, but I'd really appreciate it if I could get a lawnmower so I can take care of my own lawn without relying on anyone else."
I made it clear that even though I'm a double amputee, I'm a hard worker and I can handle it myself. Their response? "We'll take care of it as soon as possible."
They recognized that I was a legitimate veteran and was 100 percent disabled. That simple act of providing a lawnmower turned them into family. They've been with me every step of the way since then.
It wasn't just a one-time purchase; they genuinely care and have asked: "JP, how can we help? What do you need?" They've been there throughout this entire journey, assisting with travel expenses and getting me in front of thousands of people so I can inspire them with my story and testimony.
In 2013, I had the incredible opportunity of performing for former U.S. President Barack Obama in Washington at the Texas Black Tie and Boots Ball during his inauguration week. And in 2017, I performed "Only a Mountain" at the same ball for the inauguration of Donald Trump.
It was an honor to be part of such historic events. Donald Trump definitely enjoyed the performance. I had the chance to speak with him personally, and he expressed genuine gratitude for my service.
He has always been a strong supporter of veterans and the military, which was evident in our conversation. It was also interesting to note just how tall he is in person. Overall, it was an amazing experience, and I would say it was the best inauguration I've been a part of.
The feeling I had during those performances was indescribable. It was as if everything was aligned, pointing back to God.
People often commend me for my talent and view me as someone remarkable, but I always remind them that it's not about me. It's about God's presence in my life. Singing when I wasn't supposed to, walking when it seemed impossible, these are all reflections of God's work.
My life is a testament to that. It's a series of events that defy odds and expectations.
Specialist (Ret.) JP Lane joined the U.S. Army in 2008 as a combat engineer. His faith in God led him to find music, which he credits with saving his life. He reached out to Semper Fi & America's Fund for assistance as his five acres proved difficult to maintain given his condition. The Fund provided JP with utilities, transportation, and a spot in their family. Today JP continues to inspire others through his music, story, and role in The Fund.
All views expressed in this article are the author's own.
Do you have a unique experience or personal story to share? Email the My Turn team at myturn@newsweek.com.
