we’re selling a few pray for ian tshirts to benefit our two little guys that we sponsor in uganda and zambia. all proceeds will go to either their school or church.
Ian has been on set with vinegar hill the past few days as they work on their first full length film. Hope to post more photos of ian getting to watch what he loves.
He has a right arm that houses two metal plates and his mind has no control over getting it to move. So it stays still for most of the day unless being stretched. His right knee is fused in place at a slight angle and is beyond full repair because the damage is so deep. He has deep, deep scars on his scalp, his left arm also has plates, and he can’t tell you what he ate by the time I’m washing his dishes. Everything he does is slower and harder than it used to be. But he is the happiest person that I know and he is the most forgiving husband I could ask for. He never speaks to me in anger and always wants to spend time with me. And when I look at his scarred body from that dumb accident, thoughts drift to heaven and his waiting treasures, for I’m sure there will be many.
research alternative therapies. make him more independent in his eating. find more things for him to do during the day. work on recall. remind him of the date. the things that race through my mind, often filling me with guilt, that i’m not doing more, not taking on more, for ian. i know i can only do so much in a day on my own, but couldn’t i fit in a few more? therapists and doctors would say, have said, that i can and should. am i giving ian the best chance to get better or have i become complacent in his condition now? what more can i be doing, should be doing. not new thoughts or guilts, but ongoing, nagging. they aren’t all wrong – as ian’s wife, primary caregiver and advocate, these are my responsibilities. but there are priorities. like reading god’s word together. having times of rest. dates.
and so when i get glimpses that maybe i am helping him and that maybe i am doing something right, it is beautiful. last night as we walked from the bedroom to the kitchen table, caleb under his left arm and me moving his bad leg forward, it struck me. he didn’t need a prompt to keep his legs moving. he didn’t need me to tell him how to walk. he used to, but not now. he was taking steps. leaning on his brother, he was taking steps on his own accord. and even his bad leg was doing more. he was walking fast, and strong. what a beautiful reprieve – something is changing and something that we are doing is working.
luke 7:47 therefore I tell you, her sins which are many, are forgiven – for she loved much. But he who is forgiven little, loves little.
thinking on this passage during this cold Pennsylvania morning, snuggled with our bible and a cup of tea, i glanced up at the photo above our blue piano. all of my bridesmaids, smiling and loving much because they have been forgiven much. the girl in white, me, i think that i have been forgiven the most. what i was before i was saved and before i knew most of these girls, was depraved. but because jesus died for me, and because god now sees me as he sees jesus, completely washed white as snow, i am able to love much. and that’s why these girls stood with me, along with guests at our wedding, and that is why we are able to love much. they all continue to pursue hard after god, for they know they have been forgiven much. their prayers and love carried us to that day in august. we weren’t saved because we love much – we love much because we were forgiven so very much, forgiven more than our hearts know.
i want this to be a mark of our marriage – loving much. not because ian or i deserve it, or deserve a marriage like that. but because it should be a natural response flowing out of the forgiveness we have received.
“can you ask caleb to help you,” as i prepared for tomorrow’s dinner.
“caleb, i’m uncomfortable.”
“one second,” said Caleb.
“one second,” he said, clearly keeping track of time for caleb.
this repeated probably five times – ian yelling from the living room that he was uncomfortable or that he needed his wifey. and all that i could see in my mind was walking into the hospital room the first time he was taken out of bed and put in a seated position, back in 2006, back in the ICU.
he looked….awful. i remember that being the first time that my then-boyfriend truly looked completely disabled, vegetative. and what made it awful was that i remember it being the first time that i realized he truly might not ever be the same again. i remember being with mary, and they had him in a special chair, with a special helmet on, and he was different.
“bless the lord, oh my soul, and forget not all his benefits, who forgives all your iniquity, who heals all your diseases, who redeems your life from the pit, who crowns you with steadfast love and mercy” psalm 103
ian will know this in the fullest measure in heaven, but we have tasted a glimpse of healing here. and while i know in my heart that my hope is not that ian was shown mercy and has improved, and that at any moment either of us could become sick or disabled, we get to enjoy these moments for the gifts that they are.
I know of a Name, A beautiful Name, That unto a Babe was given; The stars glittered bright Throughout that glad night, And angels praised God in Heav’n.