I am the owner of my prosthetic manufacturing business, BioDapt

Mike Schultz declared: “I am the owner of my prosthetic manufacturing business, BioDapt, which manufactures lower-limb prosthetics for sports.” At first glance, it seems a simple statement of fact. Yet in truth, it is the voice of a man who transformed tragedy into triumph, necessity into invention, and personal struggle into a gift for countless others. These words speak not only of business ownership, but of the eternal spirit of resilience—that from wounds can come creation, and from loss can rise a new form of victory.

For Schultz himself is no ordinary craftsman. A snowmobile accident cost him his leg, and in that moment, life could have become smaller, confined, and diminished. But rather than yielding, he set his mind and heart to the task of building what the world had not yet given him: a prosthetic strong enough, flexible enough, and precise enough to allow him to return to the fields of sport he loved. In doing so, he did not only restore his own path; he forged a path for others. BioDapt was born not out of profit, but out of perseverance and passion.

The ancients often told stories of men who, when wounded, discovered new powers. Hephaestus, the Greek god of the forge, was cast down from Olympus crippled, yet it was in his brokenness that he found his mastery of fire and metal, crafting weapons and wonders even for the gods themselves. So too did Schultz, through his own wound, awaken the fire of invention. His business is not simply a company—it is a forge, a place where loss is remade into strength, where limitation is transformed into freedom.

History is filled with others who walked this same path. Louis Braille, blinded in childhood, invented the system that gave the blind across the world the gift of reading. Franklin Roosevelt, crippled by polio, became a leader who gave courage to a nation in despair. In each, we see the same pattern: the personal wound becomes the soil from which grows a universal blessing. Schultz joins this lineage, turning his pain into a technology that allows athletes to run, jump, and compete again.

The meaning of his words stretches beyond prosthetics. To be an owner is not simply to hold property—it is to claim responsibility, to take control where fate tried to strip it away. Schultz is declaring to the world that he is not only a survivor, but a creator, a provider, a builder. His work ensures that others who have lost limbs do not lose hope, that athletes who once thought their careers ended may still taste the fire of competition. His prosthetics for sports are more than tools; they are wings.

But let us not miss the deeper lesson: every person, in their own way, faces losses, setbacks, and wounds. Few may lose a limb, but all lose something—dreams, strength, opportunities. The question is whether one lets that loss consume them, or whether they, like Schultz, transform it into a gift that serves not only themselves but others. To create from pain, to build from ashes—this is the heroic path.

Therefore, remember the wisdom hidden in his declaration: you are the owner of your destiny. No matter what life takes from you, there remains something you can forge, something you can create that will carry others forward. Seek your forge, find your craft, and from the place of your deepest wound, build the gift that will inspire generations. For in this, like Mike Schultz, you will not only restore yourself—you will help others rise, and in doing so, you will become more than survivor: you will become a maker of hope.