We watched the speech therapist work on Ian yesterday. She’s good at what she does. She moves a vibrating thingy all over his face to stimulate the nerves in his face and irritate him. She gets a reaction from him, too. Yesterday he groaned when she was doing it. She had said to him, “I’ll stop if you tell me to, Ian.” So, he did…by groaning.
Several people have asked us about how he did with the applesauce. When we talked to the speech yesterday, she said she tried it on him. She fed him some applesauce (a very small amount) to see if he would swallow it. He didn’t swallow it right away, so she held off giving him any more. She was going to keep trying it every day, though.
Here are two Charles Spurgeon quotes that really encouraged me to keep on praying:
“My own soul’s conviction is that prayer is the grandest power in the entire universe, that it has a more omnipotent force than electricity, attraction, gravitation, or any other of those secret forces which men have called by name, but which they do not understand.”
“Prayer is the master-weapon. We should be greatly wise if we used it more, and did so with a more specific purpose.”
What is more certain than gravity? Cast a stone in the air and it will surely fall to the ground. Prayer is just as certain than gravity, more certain. For our loving God has said, “Ask and it will be given to you, seek and you will find, knock and the door will be opened to you.” Cast a single prayer before our Father and blessings will surely fall. They must. God has said it and His promises never fail.
One less huge surgery that Ian has to go through. The orthopedic surgeon today chuckled when he looked at the x-rays of Ian’s knee. Ian’s bone has fused itself in such a way that he does not need the extensive surgery and he can start weight-bearing therapy on it. The surgery that they were thinking of doing was just another form of fusing his knee so that it is stable- but God did that in His own way. This opens up a whole new realm of therapy that Ian can begin. Further surgeries could be a possibility somewhere in Ian’s future, but he’s fine for now. Praise God.
Ian’s doctor at Children’s also said that the wound on his back is definitely healing and getting smaller. Also, his body is responding to hydration in the way that it should.
God is so kind to give us these mercies. It amazes me that even while Ian’s nutrition was low, God still allowed his bones to do miraculous things. Let’s keep praying for more miracles.
“We do not come in prayer, as it were, only to God’s poorhouse where He dispenses His favors to the poor, nor do we come to the back door of the house of mercy to receive the broken scraps, though that would be more than we deserve; to eat the crumbs that fall from the Master’s table is more than we could claim. But, when we pray, we are standing in the palace on the glittering floor of the great King’s own reception room, and thus we are placed upon vantage ground. In prayer we stand where angels bow with veiled faces. There, even there, the cherubim and seraphim adore before that selfsame throne to which our prayers ascend. And should we come there with stunted requests and narrow constricted faith? No, it does not become a King to be giving away pennies and nickels; He distributes pieces of gold.”
Oh what a generous God we serve! Let us not come to Him with small, timid requests. These types of requests aren’t fitting for the great, lavish, generous God we serve. Hasn’t He already answered some huge prayers! Ian is alive. Ian is a graduate. Ian is recovering. Ian is in a wonderful treatment facility. God has already lavished His mercy upon Ian and I don’t believe He intends to stop now. Let’s come to God with big requests, full of faith that He wants to grant those requests. For His glory alone…
You can just tell he’s trying really hard. Ian’s cousins, the Bergers, visited Ian tonight. This is one of the families we’ve vacationed with since Ian was one year old, so he knows them well. They noticed how hard he was trying to communicate. He followed them with his eyes and was moving a good bit as though he was trying to say something. I know how meaningful it will be to him that they all came to visit from such a distance, especially his cousin, Daniel, who is closest in age, who took off work and who took a long flight and a long car ride to get here.
More and more we’re noticing small things that show progress. It’s hard to watch, but he winces in pain to his eye drops. He flinches when he sees the nurse coming with the drops. He blinks in reaction to anything that might come close to his eyes. He pulls away when something is uncomfortable. He groaned yesterday when he wanted to get out of his chair and into his bed; as soon as they put him in his bed he fell right asleep.
It’s as though he just can’t put everything together and say what he wants to say. I’m looking forward to the day when he can.
The appointment with the surgeon is Wednesday morning (tomorrow). This is the surgeon who did the surgery on his knee originally. He’ll be deciding whether Ian is at an appropriate place to do the rest of what needs to be done to his knee. The question is whether this is the best time to do more surgery to repair his knee. We’re praying that it would happen soon, so that Ian can get on with getting better in that part of his body, too.
That was one of Lydia’s questions today, as we spent Christmas with Ian, opening gifts and talking with him. She was very caring with him, touching his arm and asking questions that show even her little two-year-old heart cares deeply for her big brother. How much greater does our God care for him.
This is not how we imagined our Christmas to be a few months ago, but to echo Caleb, this is where God has our lives now, and there’s no place we’d rather be for Christmas than with Ian.
Ben and I went back to the ICU at Presby to give cookies to and talk with people who might be there now. It was a great reminder of where we were three months ago and where we are now. God’s goodness never ends.
“Great trials are the clouds from which God showers great mercies.” -Charles Spurgeon
I visited Ian yesterday, and it was cool to see him first stare at me and then avert his gaze to something else – in this case a colorful print on the wall of the conference room at Children’s which he seemed to study. He’s done that kind of thing before; his aunt noticed him following the fish in a fish tank recently. He seems to have much more control over his right eye, and it looks a lot better than it did before the medication. The medication they put in his eye makes it look goopy, though.
His wound on his back seems to have no infection left in it according to a nurse. However, they want to have a plastic surgeon look at it on Wednesday when he has his appointment with a knee surgeon. We don’t have confirmation on the wound’s status, but at least it’s promising. If there’s no infection, there’s a greater chance he’ll have the knee surgery.
We’re going down tomorrow (Christmas) morning to celebrate with him. We’re going to take some of our presents with us and open them there with him.
I miss Ian. We miss him. Come back to us soon, Ian. Merry Christmas.
Impatience is built-up by our plans getting knocked down or denied. We want things to happen the way we want them to and when they don’t we get annoyed or angry. Impatience shows up in me when I think of all the things Ian’s missing: his graduation, Christmas with the family (so far), all the memories that unfold every day, Larissa. When you think of these things your first reaction may be to become sad (which it very much is) but my reaction is, “Just wake up already and get back to your life!” Really, I’m yelling at God. But the thing is, this is still his life, it’s where God put him for now. He’s affecting people even in his sleep, God put him there to bring glory to himself. The way Ian has affected people during his life shows when friends and family come to visit him which in turn has an effect on the nurses (as does Ian’s life previous to the accident). Impatience needs to be chucked out the door at the reminder of God’s sovereignty, which believe it or not I have seen in my short life. It’s hard not to be impatient.
He does have a bad boo boo – he has several bad boo boos. The one we’re concerned for at this point is his right knee. On Wednesday, Ian is to have an evaluation by the original surgeon who put the knee back together – to a point. The surgeon told us then that Ian would require further surgery to repair the ligaments, etc., in his knee. We’re now to that point where he could have surgery. Our prayer is that the infection on his back would not delay the surgery. The danger is that the infection would spread to his knee when the surgeon goes in to fix it. The best thing for his rehabilitation is to get the knee repaired and get on with it. The bottom line is we want the surgeon to go ahead with the surgery asap; we don’t want anything to delay it.
The speech therapist is working with him to get a form of communication going. Lately, she’s used 2 eye blinks for yes and one for no. Now, she’s using yes and no cards he can focus on depending on his answer to a question. I don’t know how that’s progressing. The speech therapist is also poised to try giving him some applesauce, since he’s swallowing so well. Again, I don’t know how that will go.
From Valley of Vision, a collection of prayers from the 16th and 17th centuries:
For time and for eternity, let me be a monument to the efficacy of your grace a trophy for your victory
While awake, Ian pointed people to God. He reminded us daily that we serve a powerfully good creator. He was walking proof that God rescues people from their sins and transforms their lives.
Now he’s bed-ridden proof of the same thing.
Even while unconscious, Ian is a giant finger pointing towards God. Because of him we are praying even more fervently and relying on God even more. I’m sure Ian is glad that we are looking to Christ because of him.
