dq. A Brotherhood of Light: Now It’s Cody Who Needs Our Prayers


Just weeks ago, we were united in prayer for an injured lineman whose story gripped hearts across the community. He was the one nearly lost in a brutal ice storm — the one who survived a near-electrocution that doctors feared would cost him his limbs. Against overwhelming odds, he walked out of the hospital with all four limbs intact, a living testament to resilience, skilled medical care, and the power of collective prayer.

His name is Hunter.
And now, the very man we’ve been praying for is asking us to shift those prayers to someone else.
Because another brother on the line needs them more right now.
His name is Cody.
Cody was doing what linemen do every day — stepping into dangerous conditions so others could step back into normal life. While restoring power and helping his team, tragedy struck. A massive concrete utility pole shifted and crushed his left foot beneath its weight. In an instant, a routine act of service turned into a catastrophic injury.
Emergency responders rushed him to the hospital. Surgeons worked for hours, fighting to preserve what they could. For days, his family held onto hope, believing that somehow the damage might be reversible. They waited through long nights and quiet hospital hallways, clinging to every update from the operating room.
But the injury was too severe.
Doctors have now determined that amputation is necessary.
The words no family wants to hear.
The days and hours ahead are critical — not only physically, but emotionally. Surgery will be complex. Recovery will be long. And the life Cody imagined just days ago will not look the same on the other side of this procedure.
His mother described these as the hardest days of her life. Watching her son endure unimaginable pain. Standing beside his hospital bed, wishing she could take his place. Feeling the helplessness only a parent can truly understand.
“Everyone that knows Cody knows he has a heart of gold,” she said. “He will drop everything to help someone.”
That’s exactly what he was doing when this happened.
Linemen share a bond forged in risk. They climb into storms most of us run from. They work through ice, wind, darkness, and live wires so homes can glow warm again. They miss holidays. They work double shifts. And when one of them is injured, the entire brotherhood feels it.
Hunter’s family — still processing their own miracle — has asked the community to come together again. Not just in gratitude for what was spared, but in intercession for what now must be endured.
They are asking for specific prayers:
• Peace before the operation — that Cody’s mind and heart are steady as he faces what’s ahead.
• Strength in the operating room — for the surgeons, nurses, and every steady hand guiding this procedure.
• Manageable pain afterward — that recovery is marked by healing, not suffering.
• And acceptance for a new road he never asked to walk — that courage rises where fear tries to take root.
There is something powerful about a community that doesn’t stop praying once one miracle arrives. There is something profound about a survivor using his voice not for himself, but for the next man in need.
Hunter walked out of the hospital with all his limbs. Cody will walk into surgery knowing he will not walk out the same way.
But he will not walk alone.
These men risked everything so lights come back on for the rest of us. They climb poles in sleet and freezing rain. They restore power so families can cook meals, heat homes, and keep life moving forward. They rarely ask for recognition. They simply do the work.
Now it’s our turn to show up.
In prayer.
In support.
In unity.
The coming hours matter. The days that follow will matter even more. Rehabilitation. Adaptation. Emotional healing. A redefinition of strength.
Cody’s road will change, but his heart of gold will not.
Let’s surround him with the same force of hope that carried Hunter through his darkest hours. Let’s pray for courage where there is fear, for comfort where there is pain, and for resilience where life has shifted without warning.
Because brotherhood doesn’t end when one man survives.
It deepens when another needs saving.
