Ian’s progress (or lack of it) has provided an opportunity to practice taking my thoughts captive to obey Christ (2 Cor 10:5). For example, I visited Ian today while the speech therapist was working with him, and it struck me for some reason how he wasn’t swallowing completely. That thought hit me at first like a surprise punch in the stomach. But, I had to capture that thought and remind myself of the command of Scripture to rejoice (Phil 4:4-7) and make my thought obey Christ. I’ve been studying that passage lately. I’m to rejoice because of the kindness God has shown me. I’m to rejoice because God is in control. I’m to rejoice because of the truth that God’s favor toward Ian and toward all of us has not changed. So, I reminded myself of the progress Ian has made, and Larissa reminded me of that progress. I reminded myself that God has shown him mercy. I reminded myself that God’s favor hasn’t left Ian. I reminded myself that my confidence is in God not in what I see of Ian’s progress, and I made my thoughts turn again to Christ.
These momentary discouraging thoughts sometimes come with lightening speed and with some serious power behind them. Sometimes they’re glancing blows. It’s always a lot of work, though, like climbing up a long flight of uneven steps. Sometimes the steps are harder to get up, and sometimes they’re easier. But, it’s always work. Thankfully, there is grace to strengthen, and we remain in peace.
The building of the addition to our house continues thanks to so many people who give of their time. We learned today that an issue of how some of Ian’s hospital bills were to be paid was resolved. And, the best news of the day was that on a couple of occasions Ian reached to take Larissa’s hand in response to some things she said to him, things that would normally have elicited a response like that. Cool.
“When Ian gets better he will come on a picnic with us too. Won’t that be great?” -Lydia
I have been freshly reminded today of the power and beauty of the gospel. We are all sinners, deserving God’s wrath. We daily sin against a holy God, mocking Him and hating Him in our sin. We have nothing on our own to offer God.
But God in His lavish mercy, sent His son to die for us, the very people that hated Him. Because of Jesus’ blood, we are considered righteous before our heavenly father. On judgement day, it will not be our friends, our jobs or our riches that gain us access to heaven- it is Jesus alone. His perfect, sinless life is attributed to us.
Jesus saves us even when we are running straight to hell. He turns a heart of stone into a heart of gold. There is no need to prove ourselves to God, or feel like we have to read every chapter of the Bible in order for Him to save us. By His mercy, He gives us the free gift of salvation through Jesus Christ.
The struggles of this affliction are pale compared to the glories of the cross. It is the simple yet profound truth of the gospel that gives myself, the Murphys and Ian strength each morning. When we get to heaven, Jesus himself will wipe away every tear from our eyes. Ian will one day be completely healed. His soul is entrusted to Christ. When we focus on that truth, there is no room for fear.
That was the question the speech therapist asked Ian. She asked him to turn and look at Larissa, and he did it. Once again, those are signs to us that he’s really in there…somewhere.
He was in his “stander” and was moving all around with his hands and hips. The stander rubs on his knee a bit, so he has a sore there now.
Larissa mentioned in her previous post that he has something called MRSA in his right eye. I understand that we likely all have this (bacteria?) in our bodies, but we don’t feel it’s effects. Ian does, and it plays out like an infection that is very itchy for him. When his arm brace is off, he goes for his eye with his hand to scratch and rub his eye. That action could lead to the spread of this infection. If he rubs his eye, then the infection transfers to his hand and from there to other parts of his body. Please pray for his eye.
“My sole possession is thy love; In earth beneath, or heaven above, I have no other store; And though with fervent suit I pray, And importune thee day by day, I ask thee nothing more.”
(Ian has an infection in his right eye and the skin on his injured knee is breaking open a little bit. But still he rests peacefully.)
The weirdest thing made me cry last night. I was on my way to Walmart and Free Falling by Tom Petty came on the radio. I didn’t realize that I had an emotional attachment to the song, and for any of you that know the words, it’s not a song that would typically make someone cry. But when I heard it, I just had a flashback to being in the car with Ian. I don’t remember where we were going, but this song came on and he just started belting out the words. He loves to sing and Free Falling is one of those songs where it’s almost better to just yell the words with tons of dramatic emotion than to just sing it- and Ian is great at that. Every minute with Ian is like this. He is more full of life than anyone that I’ve ever met. That’s what makes this experience that much harder.
We don’t have as many updates to post as we did back in the ICU or even at Life Care. That is such a blessing, that we don’t have to report on any more huge surgeries. But at times it can feel like we have just been waiting- waiting for him to talk, waiting for him to just wake up and tell me how much he missed me while he was gone. I don’t want to lose sight of the huge miracles that God has already performed in Ian’s recovery. But wow, I think I can speak for the Murphys as well as for myself, that we are learning more and more about patience every day. We are learning what it means to trust in the Lord and wait on Him and His perfect timing.
“Our soul waits for the LORD; he is our help and our shield. For our heart is glad in him, because we trust in his holy name. Let your steadfast love, O LORD, be upon us, even as we hope in you. “
Psalm 33:20-22
I’m so glad that God knows the ending of this story….and that it is perfect for us.
Ever since the wreck I’ve been in a mode that isn’t natural for me. I like to think big picture, to think ahead, to plot a course, to think about and plan for tomorrow. The wreck has forced me to focus only on the next moment and maybe the next day. It’s too overwhelming to think beyond the next moment. I’ve learned (or, rather, I’ve been forced) to lean on Christ, to entrust the next days and weeks and months and years to Him. I don’t know what will happen tomorrow. Difficulties like this have a way forcing us into this position of moment by moment trust in the power and wisdom and sovereignty and kindness of God…but, then, that’s where I should have been all along. I pray that Ian knows the same moment by moment trust.
Pray that Ian would begin to talk to us. Thank you for your prayers.
We heard a report of a man who was in the ICU for three weeks and experienced what has been termed ICU Psychosis. He appeared completely disoriented and out of it. Ian has been in an ICU environment for nearly six months. I can’t imagine how disoriented he must feel.
That’s why we want to bring him home. We want him back to familiar surroundings. We want Lydia, his three-year-old sister, to be able to climb all over him and talk to him. We want him to hear her talking to him, talking to herself, and singing to herself the cute nonsense songs we hear all the time. We want him to be with people he knows and loves all the time. We want him at some point to be at our church – the church he loves so much – on a Sunday morning. It’s going to be very difficult to take care of him, I think…but it will be the best thing for him at this point. We’re extremely grateful to the people at the Children’s Institute, but I think they’re absolutely right to want to get him into familiar surroundings by sending him home.
What you’re seeing in this picture is the bathroom that’s taking shape in Ian’s room in the addition. Thanks Dave and Bob! It’s looking great!
Pray for us as we face another difficult chapter in the story of Ian’s recovery. Pray for good weather over the next few weeks; the paving company needs it to even consider installing a driveway to the addition. We need a driveway to even consider getting him into the addition – even the first day home – and his arrival home is very soon. The goal of the staff at the Children’s Institute is to send him home in two to four weeks.
I remember as kids, maybe eight or nine, Ian and I were playing in his backyard. I turned to him and said, “Hey Ian, you know what I used to hate?”
“What’s that?” he said.
“I used to hate it when we’d be playing outside and you’d say, ‘I got and idea.’ And I’d say ‘What’s that?’ And you’d say ‘I’m gonna go inside.’ Boy, I really used to hate that!”
Ian looked at me for a moment and then said, not missing a beat, “I got an idea!”
“What’s that?” I replied excitedly (maybe I was dumb, I don’t know…).
“I’m gonna go inside,” Ian said. And he did. And I burst into tears.
Ian’s always had an amazing sense of comedic timing (I know, some of you are saying what’s comedic about the story I’ve just relayed…looking back I think it’s hilarious). And I can say with confidence that Ian’s still got it.
Last Saturday, my brother Stephen and I were visiting Ian. We were singing some worship songs to him, “In Christ Alone”, “Oh Faithful God”, and others. After three or four songs Stephen asked Ian, “Are there any songs you want us to sing to you? Any favorite worship songs that you’ve been itching to hear?” Ian looked at Stephen for a long moment and then, in classic Ian style, he released a perfectly timed belch.
Ian is still making me laugh. I am so grateful to God for Ian and his humor.
When I pray for Ian, I usually pray for his physical needs and that he would come back to us soon. God laid it on my heart this afternoon to pray for encouragement and faith for Ian. He cannot go to church, cannot pick a worship song to listen to, and cannot even feed himself spiritually through reading the Word. I know how I feel after just one week of missing church or one day of skipping my devotional time. Ian hasn’t been to church in five months. He hasn’t been able to read his Bible in five months. Whenever we are with him, we try to read scripture and sing worship songs to him, but there are many hours that we are not there.
God is still with Ian. I believe that Ian is experiencing God in ways that we cannot understand. But I still want to pray that he would be encouraged. I want to pray that he is able to remember the cross, and remember all that Jesus has done for him. I want to pray that he would be refreshed by thoughts of the gospel. I have no idea where Ian’s mind has been this whole time, but I want to pray that he can meditate on the cross and on God’s goodness. How much more important is Ian’s relationship with God than the condition of his body! I pray that he continues to believe true thoughts about our Lord. And I want to pray for abundant grace for the challenges he will face when he wakes.
Pray that Ian can see the fruit of this trial now. Pray that he can still know that God is good. Pray that he would know that he is still now, even in a coma, a vessel of honor for God.
“Therefore, if anyone cleanses himself from what is dishonorable, he will be a vessel for honorable use, set apart as holy, useful to the master of the house, ready for every good work.” 2 Timothy 2:21
Ian didn’t have a good day today. He was asleep for the therapists, and he was asleep for Larissa and the McKelvys. It’s days like these (which he has more infrequently now, I think) that provide some temptations. The more I think about Philippians 4:4-7, though, the sweeter one phrase becomes. Here’s the passage again: “Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice. [5] Let your reasonableness be known to everyone. The Lord is at hand; [6] do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. [7] And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” The phrase that becomes sweeter to me the more I meditate on it is “the Lord is at hand.”
The Lord who died for me and for Ian is at hand. The Lord who rules the universe and is perfectly capable of ruling our unique set of circumstances is on top of this. The Lord who cares for us and whose favor was demonstrated by Christ’s death for us is very much involved. The Lord who is powerful yet also mysterious and who is not required to answer to us for his actions is nevertheless at hand. This is either true because Scripture is true or it’s not true at all. The Lord is at hand ruling. The Lord is at hand to heal. The Lord is at hand to comfort. The Lord is at hand to guide. The Lord is at hand though I can’t see Him.
The powerful emotions that I experience require the leash of God’s Word; it’s comforting to be yanked back by it. I would run into the path of all kinds of trouble were it not for that trustworthy leash of God’s Word bringing me back.
