“As he passed by, he saw a man blind from birth. And his disciples asked him, “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?” Jesus answered, “It was not that this man sinned, or his parents, but that the works of God might be displayed in him. We must work the works of him who sent me while it is day; night is coming, when no one can work. As long as I am in the world, I am the light of the world.” Having said these things, he spat on the ground and made mud with the saliva. Then he anointed the man’s eyes with the mud and said to him, “Go, wash in the pool of Siloam” (which means Sent). So he went and washed and came back seeing.”
When I read this passage this morning, it instantly took my thoughts to Ian, in his bed at the hospital. Along with the blind man in this story, it is not because Ian sinned that he is where he is now. I believe that it is so that “the works of God might be displayed in him.” We have already seen so many works of God since Sept. 30: God’s miracle in the ICU on the third day, Ian never needing surgery on his vertabrae or his knee, all of his organs and systems work perfectly, the list goes on and on. I believe that there are many more miracles to come. If the blind man came back from the pool seeing, then Ian is able to come home from the hospital walking.
Larissa was with Ian yesterday. She said she put his sunglasses on the top of his head because they had just gone back inside the hospital. He reached up and took the glasses and put them back on his nose. I wonder if it was because he’s extra sensitive to light with the bacteria in his eyes.
Please pray that his eyes would heal. Pray for wisdom for the doctors. Pray that Ian would talk to us again.
When Mary and I were with Ian today, he slept (or kept his eyes closed) for most of the time. But, it was interesting to watch him once reach for his eye, stick his finger under his sunglasses, rub his eye, remove his finger from behind the sunglasses, and then push the sunglasses further up on his nose. The brain is a mysterious thing; he sure seems like he’s in there.
This experience with Ian has reminded me again of how fleeting life is. I don’t belong here on this earth and neither does Ian. Christ died for our sins. He made us new creatures. He promised homes for us in heaven. He made us for heaven. Like the moon doesn’t seem to belong in the sky when it’s still light out, I don’t belong here. Things that I desire and pursue will one day not be there to pursue, because I’ll shed this life and all it’s pursuits like a worn-out pair of jeans. I once made a comment to a friend about how pointless it seemed to spend so much time fixing our houses: “it’s all going to burn anyway.” He wisely pointed out that we have to have somewhere to live while we’re here. True, but I want to hold things loosely. After all, I don’t belong here.
On the way home from Ian’s, I was thinking of what I would post tonight. I just read Steve’s entry from last night, and I think maybe we’re all learning similar things right now.
I don’t know if I’ll ever talk to Ian again. That thought has been causing me a lot of struggles in the past few days. Sometimes it feels like a cruel joke that the person that I enjoy the most in this world can’t communicate with me right now. I just want a glimpse of what my future is, so that I can prepare my heart for a life with Ian as his wife, for a life as someone who comes to visit him, or for whatever role God has for me in Ian’s life. I often feel like my future is way less certain than it was before September 30 just because it isn’t happening as I planned it.
But God’s grace is abundant and in His grace He kindly reminds me that absolutely nothing about my future has changed since the accident. The certainty of mine and Ian’s future being good is just as sure now as before. I’m just now more aware that life doesn’t always go how we plan it to go. But I know that even if I had the choice, I couldn’t choose the perfect future for me anyway- only God in His wisdom can.
So I find myself in the same place as Steve, and Mary, and the boys, and Ian as well- living by the light of His word. Taking one step at a time. I can’t imagine what it would’ve been like if I had known this accident was coming. God revealed it to me in His perfect timing. He will continue to do the same in my future.
Please continue to pray for Ian’s right eye. We haven’t seen him keep his eyes open for more than a few minutes in the past few days because they’re bothering him so much.
Frank mentioned to me after a visit with Ian that he looked so good. It had been a while since Frank had seen Ian, and the difference was noticeable to him. We see him every day and don’t always notice the changes. I’m learning through this experience with Ian to focus only on the next step – the next small step in his progress or the next thing we have to do or the next act of kindness by people or the next provision of the Lord. Reports like Frank’s are a good reminder of how far Ian has come.
It occurred to me that focusing only on the next step or the next thing is how the Lord wants me to live. “Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path” (Ps 119:105). An oil lamp (the only kind available when this was written) only lit enough of a dark road for the next step. I’ve walked on deserted roads at night where there is no light except the light of a flashlight (usually one with most of the juice gone); it’s not the most comfortable stroll. That’s what this experience feels like – a walk along a dark windy deserted road surrounded by woods (where animals live) with only a dim flashlight to light the next step. Living life this way forces me to put my confidence where it belongs: in His Word which declares his kindness and faithfulness and power. I’m learning that patience is about taking just the next step trusting that God is leading me and caring for me and protecting me.
Here’s a very short list of what we at the Murphy house are thankful for and more aware of post September 30:
The cross
That it is God who preserves us and sustains Ian. Ian’s salvation is established and assured no matter what state his mind and his thoughts are in. –M
For the amazing ways God has provided for our family, for Ian, and for Larissa. –S
The kindness of strangers. For people that don’t even know Ian who have prayed faithfully and people who have helped with the addition. There were individuals representing businesses all over town that worked to add to our project. –M
The church
That this is the best thing that could happen to Ian and the rest of us (we know this because of Romans 8:28). -B
Doctors and hospitals- but also that that we no longer have to see neurosurgeons every day or listen to the beeping of Ian’s heart monitor.-L
The week of living in the hospital back in early october: an excellent reminder of my need to rely on God through prayer. -B
The awareness that all that I have and all that I can do is given to me by God and can be taken away too if God wills it. A humbling lesson. –L
Blogs
God’s promise that He will never leave nor forsake Ian. -L
A lot. -B
The Bible
“The Lord is my strength and my shield; in him my heart trusts, and I am helped; my heart exults, and with my song I give thanks to him” Psalm 28:7
Please continue to pray for Ian’s right eye. It’s starting to cause him a lot of pain and frustration because it itches but he isn’t allowed to scratch it, in fear that the infection will spread.
I visited Ian today, and he slept the entire time I was with him. That’s not unusual for Ian when I’m there, though, and I know that he needs it to heal.
I’ve been thinking about complaining lately. What got me started was overhearing a few people complaining about something that seemed really trivial…well, trivial compared to the struggle that Ian is going through right now. There is often a sinful momentary angry uprising in my heart lately when I hear complaining. I’m angry, because I think they have no right to complain. “If anyone has a right to complain,” I think, “it’s us or Larissa or Ian.” It’s only momentary, because when I hear the complainer it seems my own complaining heart is echoing. Then I remind myself that Jesus would be the only one who would have a right to complain (if there is such a right, of course). What I experience of difficulty is nothing compared to what He experienced for me and nothing compared to what I should have experienced. The breadth and depth of His grace is amazing; how patient he is with me.
What a great day Ian had today. Because I’m tired and my thoughts aren’t coming out in full sentences, I’ll just make a list of all the cool things Ian did yesterday and today.
-We heard he had a great day yesterday in OT and PT. He was active with his legs and was working on using a toothbrush. The therapist helped him with it once and then asked him to do it on his own. But instead of doing it, he threw the toothbrush down. Hey, at least he’s letting us know how he feels about things.
-He “slept” through OT and PT today, but I knew he wasn’t actually sleeping because his eyelids were wrinkled like he was holding them shut. As soon as they put him in his chair at the end of his session, his eyes popped open and he just had this expression of being completely amused with himself for pretending to sleep through the entire session.
-Speech therapy today was very encouraging and exciting. Both Val, his therapist, and I were in tears. He started out with a toothbrush. Val held up a mirror and showed him how to brush his teeth. Then she asked him to do it. And he did. Once he put the toothbrush in his mouth and actually brushed his front teeth. One time he brought the brush up and moved his head back and forth instead of the brush. It was like he knew exactly where to go with the brush. Then he was given his electric razor. And after watching Val do it, he shaved part of his face. Then he was given a banana, and as Val held it, he peeled it, just like she asked him to. It took effort, and it wasn’t as smooth as when he did it in Drowning Melville, for any of you that remember that scene, but he did it. And it was amazing.
Ian and I got to spend a lot of time outside today. We went for a walk in the sun, and then watched a thunderstorm approach. It was so neat to hear the thunder, and then see the lightning in the distance, and watch the rain come toward us. I don’t remember if Ian likes thunderstorms or not, but it’s a familiar sound to all of us and I’m glad that he got to hear it.
Today Ian began a new medicine. His doctor heard about it at a conference and right away wanted it for Ian. It’s usually given to patients with Parkinson’s disease but has been found to give a little boost to patients like Ian who are plateaued around stage 3 on the coma scale. Our hope is not in this medicine. Our hope is in God. But God has the power to, if He chooses, use this medicine to progress Ian’s healing. Please pray that Ian would respond to this medicine in a positive way. Pray that we would see dramatic improvements. Pray that he would talk to us soon.
As a side note, Jubilee Christian School, thank you for all of the wonderful cards, notes and CD’s that you have been sending to Ian, beginning way back in the ICU. We would love for you to make some Easter cards and other things that we can put in Ian’s room. It’d be great for Ian to have some new things to look at!
Ian is definitely still with us, and for that I am so thankful. But I want to keep praying that he soon speaks our names.
This saturday, while painting the finishing touches on the bathroom walls, I realized something: our house is now in the shape of a cross. Ian’s addition creates the other side of a cross beam that, from the air, forms the shape of a cross with the garage. I don’t know if it means anything, but I thought it was interesting.
“Grace unending all my days gives me strength to run this race. And when my years on earth are through the praise will all belong to you.”
It’s so cool to me how songs can take you back to another time in your life. I was just listening to Grace Unmeasured and I was taken back to this past summer, listening to my IPod on the Pittsburgh city bus to go downtown to work. This song daily reminded that it was God’s grace along that would sustain me through the summer. Ian was in Lancaster working on the movie set and I was missing him like crazy. It was the first time our relationship had to be long distance and it was tough. He was working insane hours, six days a week and of course I was being a needy girlfriend and wanted to talk to him as soon as I got off work every day.
While that trial seems so small compared to what we’re facing now, it is such a reminder to me of God’s faithfulness, grace and fruit in every trial. In just one example, IUP gave Ian his college degree because he worked so hard this summer. My friend Jen was quick to remind me of this one way that shows the reward of our tough summer. And I believe that Ian will one day use his degree in a great way. God’s grace sustained us through the summer and surely it will sustain us now.
When Ian and I returned from our three months apart, our time with each other was that much sweeter.
I can’t wait for that sweetness after these six months apart.
“As he passed by, he saw a man blind from birth. And his disciples asked him, “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?” Jesus answered, “It was not that this man sinned, or his parents, but that the works of God might be displayed in him. We must work the works of him who sent me while it is day; night is coming, when no one can work. As long as I am in the world, I am the light of the world.” Having said these things, he spat on the ground and made mud with the saliva. Then he anointed the man’s eyes with the mud and said to him, “Go, wash in the pool of Siloam” (which means Sent). So he went and washed and came back seeing.” 
