The Best... It's Yet to Come

While I wanted to write and share my memories and reflections for Easter Sunday ON Easter Sunday, the reality of my life during the past few days and the hopes I had to complete these Holy Week posts on Sunday sort of collided into a not-so-perfect-union.  So here I am on...let's call it "Easter Wednesday" to share some final memories and reflections.

Tonight I am remembering a powerful conversation I had with Lucy the night before Easter.  I was putting her and Collin to bed and our "pillow talk" was pretty deep as we were all trying hard to process what had happened to Darin and I still had such limited information to give them about his future.

What I am about to share may sound familiar to many of you, because it is something I shared word-for-word on Facebook almost a year ago.  This past week I have been trying to share only memories that I had not previously shared on Facebook or other social media, but frankly, this moment was so powerful I simply must revisit it.  Here is what I wrote:

"Mommy, why did God chose Daddy to be hurt and go to the hospital?"  Well.  That's the question, isn't it?

Lucy asked me this minutes before she fell asleep tonight.  As I fumbled through my answers there were only two solid thoughts that came to me by God's grace and I feel compelled to share them with you here.

First: 
God chose to take on human flesh.  He became like us, felt our weaknesses, knew the sorrows of our sin sick world.  His name is Jesus.  And he died a most painful death so that all our guilt might too be put to death and set us free from sin's curse.  I told Lucy that Jesus knows how her Daddy feels right now because he too was 'big hurt' when he died.

Second:
Our suffering gives us a chance to become more like Jesus, our Savior.  I told Lucy that I believe that her daddy is learning to be more like Jesus through the experience of being hurt and in the hospital.  She did not quite grasp this but by grace I pray she (and all of us) will continue to do the hard work of grasping this.

And a third thought has since entered my mind since she and I talked:
Tomorrow I (and many) celebrate that Jesus, our Lord was raised literally to life again after he died, giving us who have trusted Him hope that we too will one day receive a new and whole body, like His.

So when I contemplate the question: 'will Darin walk again?' The answer is yes.  I don't know if he will walk on this side of eternity, BUT Jesus is the answer... That one day, Darin will have a body like Christ's-free from the limitations of this world (and his injury).  And he will walk again."

I remember around the time I wrote those words, my prayers about Darin's healing became more and more about asking God to do whatever He knew would bring most glory to Him in Darin's life.  If God would get more glory from a world that saw miraculous physical healing in Darin, then I wanted that.  If God would get more glory in a scenario that involved permanent and total paralysis from the waist down for Darin, then as painful as it would be, I wanted that. For I was coming to understand words that I had already read many times in my faith journey from Paul's 2nd Letter to the Corinthian church (4:14-18):

"...because we know that the one who raised the Lord Jesus from the dead will also raise us with Jesus and present us with you to himself.  All this is for your benefit, so that the grace that is reaching more and more people may cause thanksgiving to overflow to the glory of God.  Therefore we do not lose heart.  Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day.  For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all.  So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal"

 In light of eternity, even if Darin did not walk again until Heaven, I believed that he would someday look at these days as "light and momentary troubles".  The power of Jesus' resurrection means that our days here and now are not the end and they are not the best. The best is as they say, "yet to come". But the days we are given in the here and now are still a gift and our opportunity to choose HIM in faith and shine bright in the midst of darkness.

I want to conclude, by asking you (if you are still reading), if you can see yourself when you consider the story of Jesus's suffering, death and resurrection?  I have not taken the time to share all of these memories simply to be another "inspiring story" or to present ourselves as unique in any way.  I know that you have been or will be touched by sufferings and trials of many kinds.  I also believe that Jesus Christ, fully God and fully man achieved through His own suffering victory over sin and death. His victory is yours to avail yourself to if you so desire.  His story can become your story.  The heavy burdens you carry can too be regarded as light and momentary.  I sincerely hope they will be.

xoxo,

When Suffering Makes It Easy to Sin

Probably three or four days into Darin's hospitalization, the sheer adrenaline that helped me to keep putting one foot in front of the other faded away.  I was exhausted.  The pain of watching the man I love languish in a hospital bed, the wisdom required to give my children the information they needed to process the topsy turvey world they were thrust into, the coordination required to keep our loved ones updated on Darin's ever-changing condition... it all took an emotional and physical toll.  I began to feel raw and agitated and snippy. Or if I wasn't those things I started to distort all the encouraging words I was receiving from friends and family and pridefully think, "You know, they are right, aren't they?! I AM pretty great!"  I remember one night when I was talking with Pastor Scott in the hallway outside Darin's room in the ICU, I looked at him and said, "It is getting REALLY easy to sin right now."

There are a lot of voices that might try to reassure me by suggesting that it wasn't that I was SINNING, per se, it was just that I was stressed. Under pressure, Hurting.  And yes, I was all of those things.  But instead of making me immune to sin, they made me more vulnerable to the temptation to sin.  Or rather, they did when I tried to shoulder them all alone. What did it look like when I attempted to shoulder my burdens alone? It looked a lot like not calling upon God for help but focusing all my energy and attention on our circumstances.  It looked like not embracing little opportunities for rest when they presented themselves.  It looked like me thinking that Darin's and our kids' well being was dependent on how well I took care of them.

My reflection for tonight is simple: my suffering makes it easy to sin; Jesus' suffering has paid for my sin. Prophetic words about Jesus from Isaiah 53:4-5  put it so beautifully:

"Surely he has borne our grbiefs and carried our sorrows; yet we esteemed him stricken, smitten by God, and afflicted.  But he was pierced for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace, and with his wounds we are healed."

I can't fully grasp this mystery but I have firsthand experience now to know that my suffering reveals my own inadequacy and sinfulness.  Jesus' suffering without sin, revealed his diety.  This is not my observation, but one made by an eyewitness of his crucifixion.  Mark 15:39 says:

"And when the centurian who stood there in front of Jesus, saw how he died, he said, 'Surely this man was the Son of God.'"

To be in this world is to suffer at some point. And I have come to believe that when one enters a time of suffering they must confront a battle they can't win on their own.  Only God could suffer and do so victoriously, that is without sin.  I believe that when God in human flesh died, he uttered the words, "It is finished"  (John 19:30) because  he truly finished what we couldn't do.  And then extended His victory to us.  Gave us an invitation to trust him for the forgiveness we couldn't earn.

So when my suffering makes it easy to sin, I don't need to try harder not to sin.  I need only stop and say, "Oh wait, Jesus already finished this battle for me" and take His invitation to rest in that.

xoxo,

A Pause for Extravagance

Right before Darin went into surgery, I realized that he still had his wedding ring on, so I hastily removed it and slipped it in my pocket.  The rest of the day was long and hard and to keep myself occupied, I (along with my dear friend, Shannon who was with me for support) walked around the hospital quite a bit.  We went to the cafeteria, the ICU family lounge and even to the maternity center to visit with some good friends who had just had a baby in the same hospital.


Fast forward a few days, and it was pretty rough going for Darin.  Pain and nausea management proved very difficult and I spent some long days there with him holding his hand and supporting him as he endured a great deal of physical and emotional suffering.  Finally, there was a moment that he appeared to have more awareness of what was going on around him and he looked at me and said, "Honey, where is my wedding ring?"


Uh oh.  I realized that the last time I had seen it was when I slipped in into my pocket on surgery day.  I told him that I needed to find it at home and bring it the next day.  He moved on, but my heart sank.  That night I ransacked my washer and dryer, my backpack, all the pockets of the clothing I wore that day.  It was no where to be found.  Assuming that it must have fallen out of my pocket at some point in that day, I took several days to comb the hospital for that ring. I looked under chairs and in between cushions on sofas in the surgery center.  I checked the cafeteria, the maternity center, the family lounge and I spoke the with security department and lost and found in the hospital multiple times.  I felt so awful.  I had lost my husband's wedding ring on what might have been the most frightening day of his life


I waited until he brought it up again and then admitted that I had lost it and had given up hope of finding it.  I was dejected and he was pretty sad about it too, but what could be done that I had not already done?


Fast forward several more days, and my 34th birthday had arrived.  Darin was continuing to struggle through a very slow recovery and had also started to experience some complications that were making him very ill.  The truth was that I wished I could just skip my birthday rather than pretend that it was a happy day.  But then I realized what would bring joy on that day to some miserable circumstances.


I wanted to go out and buy Darin a new wedding band and give it to him for my birthday.  It seemed like an extravagant and perhaps unnecessary expense given the circumstances.  But I realized that Darin's injury in many ways was ushering in a new era for us and our marriage.  And in a flash I realized that I wasn't meant to find the old ring. This was my moment to commemorate our new era with an extravagant gesture.  I wanted to remind him how glad I was that I had chosen him and how happy I was to stay with him during these difficult days and the ones yet to come.





The Holy Week reflection on my heart tonight technically isn't an event from the Holy Week, but is a significant moment right before Jesus' triumphal entry into Jerusalem.  This is the story of a woman who gave a far more extravagant gift commemorating a far more important moment in history and made a much greater mark on human history than I could ever dream of making!


Jesus was dining in the home of a man named Simon the Leper when, as Matthew 26:7 tells it:

"a woman came up to him with an alabaster flask of very expensive ointment, and she poured it on his head as he relined at the table."

As the story continues, there are those who scoffed at her gesture, reasoning that her perfume would have gone to better use had it been sold and donated to the poor.  But Jesus is moved by her extravagance and in 26:10-13 we read his response:

"Why do you trouble this woman?  For she has done a beautiful thing to me  For you will always have the poor with you but you will not always have me.  In pouring this ointment on my body, she has done it to prepare me for burial.  Truly, I saw to you, wherever this gospel is proclaimed in the world, what she has done will also be told in memory of her."

 My heart is moved by the exchange between Jesus and the woman in this story.  I see that there can be beauty in immediately acting upon a worshipful impulse that has been prompted by the Holy Spirit. That such moments, if acted upon might become significant to usher in something new He has prepared. They can be opportunities to draw closer to the Savior.  I also get a sense from Jesus' words, that such opportunities don't come around everyday and they ought to be embraced,( even if doing so doesn't seem practical) or the opportunity will be lost,


Now, almost a year after Darin's injury, the storms are not raging in my world quite like they were when I knew that I was meant to give Darin that ring. Going forward I want to retain the sensitivity I was granted in the aftermath of Darin's injury.  When the chances that don't come along everyday to give extravagantly in worship to my God, I want to follow the example of the woman who annointed Jesus. I want to draw closer to him and be a part of the plans He has for this world.


xoxo,

Taking Heart In the Face of Fear

 The memory I want to share now is how overwhelmed I was with fear right before Darin had surgery to stabilize his burst vertebra.  So the spinal cord is kind of a big deal (insert smiley face) and there were bone fragments that were pressing on his spinal cord which had caused the injury.  It was important that the fragments be removed and the vertebra be reconstructed surgically so that pressure could be taken off the spinal cord and further injury might be prevented. The success of this surgery could make the difference as to whether Darin would have a chance to walk again in this life.

The surgery was estimated to take about seven hours.  As you can imagine, it would require a great deal of skill and precision.  To give you an idea of how intense the surgery was, here is a picture of his x-ray after the surgery (spoiler alert: the surgery was successful and went according to plan):

I felt so nervous going into it, I wanted to throw up.  The night before his surgery I was at home and tried everything I could to calm my soul.  I prayed, read scripture, had a glass of wine, talked to caring friends.  But by about 2:00 AM I realized that I was not going to be able to sleep and was too restless to stay at home.  So with my parents-in-law at my house with the kids, I drove to the hospital. When I arrived, I checked on Darin and he was deeply sleeping so I woke up our friend Matt who was the "nightwatchman" at the time and did what any other woman in my shoes would do at that moment: I ugly cried.  Matt wiped the sleep out of his eyes and placed a caring hand on my shoulder and prayed for Darin and for me.  The ugly crying continued, but after Matt finished praying, I was able to breathe, take heart and receive some stability.

Tonight I am remembering how Jesus spent a good deal of time with his disciples in between his entry into Jerusalem and his arrest.  John 13:1 says:

"Now before the Feast of the Passover, when Jesus knew that his hour had come to depart out of this world to the Father, having loved his own who were in the world, he loved them to the end."

First of all, can I just stop and absorb the words, "he loved them to the end"?  What a simple, beautiful, powerful statement about his love for "his own."  Reading on in John chapters 13-18 we see Jesus wash his disciples' feet and then give him his parting words of caution, instruction, prophecy and comfort. Towards the end of his parting words, he states plainly in 16:33 that they would be guaranteed troubles, suffering and sorrow.  But he offers hope:

"In the world you will have tribulation.  But take heart; I have overcome the world."

He then concludes in prayer calling upon the Heavenly Father to strengthen them, protect them and work wonders through them.  And then we come to another statement in 17:20 that makes all the difference for us today:

"I do not ask for these only, but also for those who will believe in me through their word, that they may all be one, just as you, Father, are in me, and I in you, that they may also be in us..."

He was not only addressing and praying for those disciples present with him in that time.  He was praying for those who were yet to come.  And I realize that is me!  That is Darin!  That is everyone who has since trusted on the name of Jesus for their forgiveness and redemption. And he is loving us to the end, and imploring us to take heart when we are afraid and to remember that He has overcome the world and the tribulations in it.

xoxo,

Sharing our Burdens

The memory on my mind today is a continuation of what I shared yesterday. When I arrived to the hospital that morning and found Darin in such a vulnerable condition, I wasn't prepared.  I kept my composure for his sake, but inside I was crushed.  I felt dizzy and shaky.  I opened my mouth to pray for him, but couldn't produce any words.

And in that moment, when my ability to help Darin was entirely diminished, God sent help.  Mark, a dear and godly friend of ours who had once been Darin's supervisor at a previous job walked into the room. He had a stirring in his soul to come to Darin at that moment.  So he came.  He came to Darin's bedside and prayed fervently for him and me.  And I was granted strength to press on and be present with Darin as his helper.  And this is only one story... there are many similar stories involving other friends that would knock your socks off.  I am so thankful for the generous way that God has over and over again met us at our point of need by mobilizing others to share our burdens when it seemed impossible to carry on.  And I am thankful for the willingness of these friends to respond when compelled in their spirit to come to our aid.

Today I am remembering how crushed in body and soul Jesus was when he was on his way to be crucified.  We are not given a lot of information on this detail of the story, but the scriptures mention by name, a man who was given the task of carrying Jesus' cross for him to the hill where he would be crucified. 

"And they compelled a passerby, Simon of Cyrene, who was coming in from the country, the father of Alexander and Rufus, to carry his cross."

Since we know so little about Simon I can't try to elaborate too much, except to say how moved I am that Jesus had endured so much suffering that another person had to be called upon to carry his cross. It leaves me heartbroken and amazed again at what he willingly subjected himself to save mankind. We have another example of how he humbled himself and knew human sorrow and suffering.  Philippians 2:8 describes what he did so perfectly:

"And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross."

One of the things that strikes me here in the light of the fact that Jesus received help on his way to the cross, is that it is often pride that prevents the human heart from accepting the help of others.  And Jesus, God in human flesh even gives us an example of humility by receiving help in his despair. May we ALL be willing to follow his example by allowing our brothers and sisters to share our burdens when we are in need.

xoxo,

Moments of Loneliness

We were a couple of days into Darin's hospitalization  By that point I was spending my nights at home, but didn't feel comfortable having Darin in the hospital overnight without a friend or family member present. The doctors and nurses were amazing and I trusted them. But his loneliness and confusion was severe and he needed a companion present in the darkness of the nighttime and early morning hours.

Thus the team of "night watchmen" was assembled.  We gathered a group of men who were like brothers to us.  They took shifts (along with Darin's parents and siblings) staying with Darin through the night and early morning hours until I could arrive again. They prayed, read the Bible aloud, and spoke reassuring words to him when he woke up.  They were so amazing and I will never forget their goodness to us.  It wasn't always easy to coordinate these night shift schedules though, and I remember one time, there was a gap in the very early morning in between the "watchman" who had the final shift and the time that I was able to arrive at the hospital.  I felt uneasy about it. but there just wasn't a way to get around it in this situation.  There were going to be a few hours that Darin would be alone.

I could never forget what I encountered when I made my way to his room that next morning.  He was wide eyed and he grasped my hand. He described the feeling of utter loneliness and helplessness he felt in those last few hours. I had never seen him in that type of distress. And I despised myself in that moment.  How could I have left him there alone?  I eventually accepted that I was just one person, and I could not be everything that Darin needed, no matter how much I tried.  

Now as I revisit that memory while also focusing my heart and mind on the Biblical narratives of the Holy Week, I remember that Jesus spent an entire night in utter loneliness and anguish in Gethsemane.  He desired the prayerful presence of his closest disciples in His time of sorrow, but they didn't come through for him. (see Matthew 26: 36-46 for the whole story).  

I have always cherished the words in Hebrews 4:14-15:

"Since then we have a great high priest who has passed through the heavens, Jesus, the Son of God, let us hold fast our confession.  For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses. but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin."

But when I have the opportunity such as this to really see and believe that there is not a human sorrow that Jesus has not himself endured for our sake, I am stunned.  Jesus not only proved himself as the only One who COULD be everything that mankind needs, but he also subjected himself to the pain of being disappointed by the limitations of this world and the people in it.

I still shudder at the memory of Darin's pain and loneliness on that difficult morning.  At the same time, I can embrace that memory as a moment that I believe was designed by our Heavenly Father to bring Darin into a closer fellowship with his Savior.

xoxo,

Suddenly Everything Changes

The memories I want to share today begin with the few days preceding Darin's injury.  Now, those were the last moments of the life we considered to be "normal".  So I can admit that I am likely romanticizing these memories.  I don't know.  But what I am sharing is how I remember that time, whether or not it is recalled through a romantic lens.

March in Iowa is definitely unpredictable in terms of weather.  Although we all are SO ready for warmer weather every year when March rolls around, we don't hold our breath with that expectation.  I normally try to view March as another winter month and if we get a hint of spring, then it's a bonus.  I do remember the week before Darin's injury as being truly beautiful and we were loving outdoor time.  I remember one afternoon in particular that the kids and I were playing with the rabbits and chickens in the backyard and cherishing the simple fun.

The Stevenson kids enjoying our backyard in March 2015.

In addition to the joy that warm weather and outdoor fun brought, I remember that right before Darin's injury, he and I had recently come out on the other end of some conflict that had taken a lot out of both of us. Even though the details of the disagreement seem fuzzy and less important to me now, I remember it as being big and important at the time. And after some hard work fighting for each other, we had a sort of breakthrough.  We received God's grace and mercy and extended it to one another. It was so satisfying. We had also just had a really wonderful "stay-cation" with the kids at a local hotel, playing in the pool, and enjoying lighthearted fun.  We were all getting along well.  We were relaxed.  At peace.  The sun was shining on us. Literally.

And then he fell off that ladder.  And we were thrust into instant chaos, confusion and panic.  I remember that first night Darin was in the hospital.  I spent a restless night bouncing back and forth between Darin's room and a pullout bed in the dark ICU family lounge. Any time I came close to falling asleep, I was abruptly brought out of it with a panic attack. When I was with him he was so heavily medicated, and buried under IVs, tubes and beeping noises.  It was obvious that he had little awareness of what was really happening.   My parents-in-law stayed at our house overnight with our kids.  Nora had never spent a night away from me and my mother-in-law spent the entire evening trying to no avail to comfort and calm her.  By the time I saw Lucy and Collin, it was the second night of his hospitalization and I anxiously snuggled in their beds with them, listening to Lucy tearfully say, "Daddy! Daddy!" over and over again.  

How could everything change so suddenly?  The glorious days we had just enjoyed seemed worlds away.

Today, Darin and I were sitting in the 11:00 AM service of the church we just started to attend.  Our pastor was describing the triumphal entrance that Jesus made into Jerusalem just a few short days before his crucifixion.  This is the event we celebrate on Palm Sunday, and the picture we see from the Biblical accounts, is that He was being hailed as a king... a hero of sorts, or to use a more Biblical phrase, a messiah. There was celebrating in the streets.  Joy.  And then, to borrow a phrase from our pastor this morning, "suddenly everything changes."  The story takes an ominous turn. Before long Jesus enjoys a meal with his twelve closest followers but we learn that one of them has plans to turn him into the authorities who seek to take his life.  Before we know it, the crowds that joyfully welcomed him are replaced by a mob demanding his execution.  How could everything change so quickly?

Some stunning words from Hebrews 12 come to my mind,

"let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God.  Consider him who endured from sinners such hostility against himself, so that you may not grow weary or fainthearted." (vs1b-3)

I am reminded that Jesus knew everything He was about to endure.  And He went to it for the joy set before him.  Even though the cost on his part was unimaginable.  It was worth it because it was his rescue mission to save us from our sin and ultimately from our suffering, even though on this side of eternity there is still suffering for each of us to endure for a time.

Darin and I are so thankful that when everything suddenly changed in our world last March, Jesus knew everything we were about to endure.  And in addition to giving us himself as our redeemer, he also gave himself as our example.  As for the joy set before him when he went forward to suffer?  He has also invited us enter into that joy by placing our hope in him, especially when it is our time to suffer.  And by the grace of the Father and through the empowering of the Holy Spirit I believe we are learning to do just that.

xoxo,

An Update, An Anniversary and Some Holy Week Reflections

The last time I wrote seems like  WAS so long ago.  Our family was still in the Chicago area and Darin was completing his final month of intensive rehab.  Our little Nora had just turned two. The novelty of being in a different and exciting city had worn off for Lucy and Collin.  They were just plain homesick.  We all were.  Even though we had been so richly blessed by the amazing local church we attended while there, we missed our community.  It was time to come home.

And we pulled into our driveway on the evening of October 31st, 2015 where much of our family and friends gathered with an amazing meal and lots of hands to unload our trailer.  The welcome was sweet.

In November I worked hard on rearranging our home to be closer to the condition it was in before Darin's injury.  Successful growth and learning in rehab meant that Darin was competent with stairs and could move back into our second story master bedroom! I also worked hard (along with many dear friends and family who pitched in) to throw a BIG birthday bash and night of reflection and thanksgiving for Darin's 40th! It was an unforgettable evening and worth every bit of effort.

December, in addition to all the Christmas celebrations, brought a lot of attention to how to give our children the routine and structure that would help them thrive after so much upheaval and crisis in their lives.  We ended up finding and enrolling them both in part time school programs which offered us the ideal blend of homeschooling and classroom learning.  They both began with their new routines in January, and even though there have been a few challenging aspects of the transition, Darin and I both so pleased with how well they are doing and agree that it is just what we all need for now.

January and February brought a lot of careful consideration to when would be the right time for Darin to return to his job.  To say that his work family has been supportive to us during these trials would be a gross understatement.  It brings tears to my eyes to recount the many ways they helped us including (but not limited to) work days at our home, replacing our dryer when it died, visits, cards, generous gifts, meals, taking our kids on outings, etc. Who wouldn't be eager to return to work among such a team?  Unfortunately, together with Darin's doctors and therapists, we have determined that Darin's has too much ongoing work to do in therapy to be able to return to work full-time yet.  And to be fair and respectful to his coworkers who have worked hard to cover his responsibilities over this past year, it was time to submit his resignation and allow his position to be filled by a new full-time team member. We sincerely hope that the door will reopen for him to eventually return, and we are trusting God with that, but for now this is the right decision.

So far, the month of March has been about regrouping.  We've been figuring out how to arrange for dependable health coverage for our family and working hard on assembling as much exercise equipment in our home as possible so that Darin can incorporate two to three hours of exercise into his daily routine which truly helps him get stronger and improves his quality of life.  We have also been doing some grieving and reflecting as the first anniversary of his accident is rapidly approaching on March 27th (which also happens to be Easter Sunday).

In the earliest, most chaotic days of Darin's hospitalization last March, the timing of being there at the end of Lent and during Holy Week and Easter Sunday was so powerful for us.  When I saw Darin enduring unthinkable physical suffering the only thing that I could really find solace in was the reality of Jesus' physical suffering.  When we were tempted to despair, we were able to take hold of the hope of Jesus' resurrection and the promise of our own resurrection someday.  I am so thankful that the first difficult anniversary of Darin's accident is also the day that we and all of our brothers and sisters in Christ celebrate HIS victory over sin, suffering and death and the fact that we can lay hold of His victory as our own.

Tomorrow is Palm Sunday.  And starting tomorrow I am planning to share memories from the early days of Darin's spinal cord injury journey along with reflections on the events of Holy Week and the hope that Jesus has given us.  I hope to share one memory and one reflection each day starting tomorrow and concluding on Easter Sunday. I am doing this largely as an exercise to prepare myself for next Sunday but I am also doing so because I hope it will bring encouragement to you if you are able to read. Thanks, dear friends.

xoxo,

Fighting Discouragement (A Guest Post by Darin)

Note: I am really so pleased to be able to share these honest and inspiring words from my husband tonight.  It has been my privilege and honor to convey our journey since his accident on behalf of him and our whole family.  But I think you will be especially blessed to read his OWN words now:

Erika has so eloquently captured our journey since my accident through Facebook and blog posts.  Although I know I should be disciplined at writing and journaling, I’ve failed to write until now.  I’ve attempted to show my gratitude for all the support received since my accident, but I’m convinced I have failed to share how important your support and encouragement has been throughout my recovery.

It is so easy to be swallowed by discouragement.  Focusing on the daily trials could easily spiral me into despair.  My disability is very visible, and it’s easy to assume that the hardest obstacle to overcome is my restrictions in mobility.  It is hard witnessing the world through a wheel chair, or being compared to a turtle because I’m so slow using my walker.  But my biggest physical obstacles are not visible.

My primary obstacle is chronic pain.  Although I have regained muscle strength to be able to walk, ignoring the pain is hard.  The pain is hard to describe, it’s like the tingling feeling when your foot goes numb coupled with an aching feeling when you stretch a muscle.  It’s most noticeable when I’m stationary and makes it nearly impossible to be comfortable.  The intensity varies throughout the day, and I haven’t discovered how to control it.  I have found exercises that help reduce the pain, but rarely is it avoided.  I can’t escape it, or lay in bed and try to ignore it.  I catch asking myself, “is this the life that I’m called to…overshadowed by pain?” 

Another obstacle is managing my bowels and bladder.  I have to manage my diet and fluids closely, wondering what impact foods or caffeine may have on my body.  I have to use “alternative methods” when using a toilet, and though they aren’t painful, it can be depressing when confronted that my body and its systems don't work like they were designed to.

Accepting the changes to my body is hard.  It could be as simple as taking a shower and not being able to feel the water on certain areas of my body.  Often I’m unaware of how my legs have deteriorated from muscle loss, but reminded when I see a picture of myself.  Discovering a handful of soft tissue where there used to be firm muscle is depressing.  I now have to use care when I sit because I don’t have muscle cushioning my pelvis, and can never slouch and must remain a rigid posture to not put stress on my lower back or experience pain and discomfort.  Finally, I’ve discovered that my hip is fragile because it isn’t protected by the normal layers of muscle and must use extreme caution to prevent a fall.  I can get lost by wondering if these changes to my body will be restored to pre-injury or if this is the new normal.

Focusing on these physical obstacles could easily spiral me into despair, without even considering the emotional obstacles and challenges to being a father and husband.  Trying to shoulder the burden of these obstacles would crush me.  I don’t have the optimism or shear grit to press through.  I don’t even have the faith to hold on to hope confronted with these obstacles.  It is the strength of the Holy Spirit moving through the family of God that sustains me.  When my hope is crushed, I can lean on the hope of others.  When my faith is weak, I can find strength in the faith of others.  When downcast, I can find encouragement through the support of others through letters and prayers.  When discouraged, I encounter the presence of God through the sacrifices that so many have made to support our family.  Sacrifices to modify and care for our home, caring for our children, gifts of financial support, surprise visits to Chicago to offer encouragement, unexpected gifts, pampering my wife, taking care of our pets, and providing meals.

I am often humbled by comments of the strength that we demonstrate through this trial.  I want to confess that I am weak, and could be easily swallowed by the discouragement encountered so often.  You don’t need to search hard to find men who have encountered the same injury who live in despair.  Any strength demonstrated is the result of the Holy Spirit working through the hands of so many lifting us up in prayer, making sacrifices on our behalf, and offering words of encouragement and support. 

There is a poster found in many churches of footprints on a beach.  The story that accompanies the picture if of a man who looks back on his life and only sees one set of footprints during trials.  He discovers that the footsteps he sees belong to Christ who is carrying him through those trials.  A better picture of how Christ supports us through trials is that there would be so many footprints you couldn't distinguish one from another, because it is Jesus working through His Church that carries us through trials.  I am weak, but carried through this trial by the feet of so many provides me strength, hope, faith and endurance.  Physically, I don't know what healing I will experience, but I do know that after being touched by they Holy Spirit through the hands of so many, I will never be the same.

Erika here again!  I wanted to share that our family has temporarily relocated to the Chicago area so that Darin could receive therapy from the renowned Rehabilitation Institute of Chicago and we are nearing the end of our three month stay here.  While Darin and our whole family have made many gains here, we have also been walking through even more valleys, as he has experienced another major injury (a hip fracture) which required another surgery and hospitalization.  We continue to ask for prayer, especially on this last stretch here before we head back home. We love you!

xoxo,

Parenting in Crisis

I was shopping at Costco last week with my Nora, and (as most Costco trips go) the longer I roamed the aisles and filled that big ol' shopping cart with glorious amounts of bulk food items and paper goods, the more unwieldy it became.  While I was scoping out the children's pajamas in the clothing section, I came upon a cute little girl, with a thick fringe of brown bangs (not unlike the kind I sported as a little girl) and I made an abrupt stop to keep my cart from plowing her over.  I guessed her to be maybe 3 1/2 or 4 years old, and I gave her a smile, as I saw and heard her mother scolding her for wandering in front of my cart.

"That's okay!" I assured the other mom, "I have three kids of my own.  I get it. And she was not a bother to me!"

"Three!" she responded, "you have your hands full!" she said

"I do," I agreed, smiling, and added, "but they are a blessing."

"Well.  They are SOME of the time." she replied.

In the next moments, I responded with a candor that is characteristic for me in my interactions with strangers and new acquaintances... and sorely lacking in discretion (which is certainly a discipline in my life that is begging for growth and improvement).  But for better or for worse I opened my mouth and said,

"Well, I'll tell you what. Six months ago, my husband fell off a 15 foot ladder, sustained a spinal cord injury and his life changed forever. But he is making an amazing recovery and I don't think he could have gotten through these difficult months nearly as well if it weren't for the motivation and smiles that our three children have afforded him."

Ooops.  Had I really just said that?  Had I just reprimanded a poor unsuspecting woman who had probably just had a rough day with her pre-schooler? Heck, I know that pre-schoolers (even cute, curious ones with fringe bangs) are notorious for pushing boundaries, trying to usurp control from their parents and being inflexible and demanding.  Did I really have to make her uncomfortable with our big dramatic spinal cord injury story that is about as heavy as that big cart I was pushing around and almost ran her daughter over with?

To this fellow, Costco-shopping mommy: I don't think you will ever read this, but if by some strange coincidence you do, please receive my apologies for blurting that out.  It was impulsive, preachy and uncalled for. I am embarrassed and I am sorry.

But, if any kernel remains from my display of candor in Costco... if any good stays with me from that memory, it is this: Raising little children is hard. Raising little children in the midst of family crisis and upheaval is harder than I could have ever dreamed.  Sleepless nights with a teething toddler, behavioral challenges that are out of this world with my older two, their innocent and heartbreaking questions shooting straight through all of my fears and confusion when our world as we knew it was crumbling down and taking an unrecognizable form.  Coordinating childcare when needed, attempting to keep some of our homeschooling routine, getting them to their own doctors appointments, dance classes and art classes. Getting them to bed at night before double digits, talking them through their traumatic memories from the day their daddy fell and was whisked away to the hospital on a fire truck... Fielding all of this while trying to support and advocate for Darin and learning to provide care for him that I never dreamed would be required of me at the age of 34. No doubt about it.  This has been complicated.  And crazy hard.

But our three sweet babies.  Lucy. Collin. Nora.  They are gifts from the hand of God Almighty, vessels of His grace, and healing balm to our souls.  I don't know if they will ever know how much they mean to us, now more than ever, unless or until they have babies of their own someday. 


Everyday I stumble as their mother. Every day, there is some way that I don't do right by them. But I hope. And I pray. That they too will see and receive grace upon grace poured out over them from God in Heaven and if Darin and I get to administer some small portions of that grace as we parent them in the midst of these challenging and difficult times, we consider it a beautiful privilege and honor.

xoxo,

Hands that Help

"What can I do to help you?"

No sooner had Darin fallen off that ladder than I started hearing a chorus of voices asking this and other variations of this question. It is a curious thing to be in the midst of a crisis and have so many offers of help from family and friends that you can't accept each one. I have experienced a lot difficult emotions as a result of Darin's accident. I have been overwhelmed, afraid, in denial, despondent and angry.  But I have not felt lonely.  Nor have I been tempted to feel that way. I have never wondered where help would come from when Darin, the kids or I needed it. Because it came, and often it was on its way before I even knew we needed it. 

Have you ever known someone who was in the midst of a devastating crisis and you felt compelled to come to their immediate aid but you had no idea what was truly needed or wanted?  Often in these situations it is so difficult to imagine what it is like to be at the center of the crisis that you feel helpless to offer anything of value.  I have been there. I have offered and given help to others that did't seem like "enough". I confess I have also hung back and not helped at all because I couldn't think of "the right help to give" or was afraid of "being a nuisance".

Being in the center of a crisis situation and on the receiving end of help from my community has given me fresh insight.  I have learned that often God answers cries for help from His children though the willing hands of His other children.  I have been reminded that God has given His people unique gifts.  And when they use their gifts in small ways and He orchestrates and unites their offerings to accomplish His work, it brings Him Glory!

Have you ever read one of those popular blog posts or articles circulating around the internet that provides lists of "do's" and "don'ts" to remember when you are interacting with people who are on a journey unlike your own? You know like "10 things NOT to say to someone whose dog just died" or "5 things you can do to avoid a negative relationship with your daughter-in-law".

I like those articles. Kind of. Except for when they set people up to think they are going to fail at helping others before they even try. Or encourage you to be so fearful of saying "the wrong thing" that you don't say anything at all.  

No one voice can represent an entire population of folks who are suffering. Different personalities might feel loved and supported by different kinds of gestures. So rather than share list of specific recommendations of things to do or not for people in crisis, I would like to share a sampling of things that people did for our family while Darin was in the hospital. I hope that it will inspire and empower you use your unique gifts to do small things that make BIG impacts in the lives of people who are hurting.

On the evening of Darin's accident, my friend, Shannon, was by my side and she drove me home to pack a bag for myself and she helped me think through what I might need because my head was swimming too much to think and plan accordingly.  She was also the person who was there at the hospital just for ME on the day of his surgery.  She walked me to the cafeteria when I needed to try to eat something. She encouraged me to find a place to lay down and rest when I needed to. She took my phone from me when she could tell I needed a break from frantically responding to texts or updating my Facebook status.

While Darin was in the ER, our pastor, Scott took my phone and kept it charged and helped me communicate with my and Darin's families so I could focus my attention on Darin and just be there for him.

Denise, Laura, Niki, Jamie and Jonna (friends who were already familiar with my kids' quirks, routines, likes and dislikes provided the immediate childcare) and also helped to coordinate volunteers for future Childcare needs.

My neighbors, Karmen, Lindsey, Sacha and Niki were always there to give a hug or a listening ear in the evenings when I came home and took my nightly walk around the block with Nora in the stroller.

Scott, Jonna and Shannon created a meal sign up on a website and organized a system for dropping meals off so I didn't have to figure all of that out.  They also started a Facebook group for prayer and support and communication for the masses who were interested in updates.

Mark, Joel, Ned, Noah, Tim, Matt, Scott, Chris, Cameron, Jon, David, Jonathan, Eric (all men who have been a spiritual encouragement in Darin's life at one point or another) came to the hospital and prayed for him, read and declared truth from God's word over him and often stayed with him through the night so that I could spend the nights at home with the kids but know Darin wasn't alone.  I affectionately refer to these men in my mind as our "band of brothers."  When any one of them showed up at the hospital I would immediately feel a burden of weight lifting off of my shoulders.  Their presence made Darin stronger. They gave me big-brotherly advice when I didn't know how to support Darin. They gave reassuring hugs. I don't think that Darin and I could have made it through his time in the ICU without them.

James and Katie, as well as Jessica and Milo are friends who gave birth to babies in the same hospital that we were at.  They both let me come and hold their sweet newborn babes which was a great escape for me when things were hard at the hospital

Jaime, Darin's coworker who is an RN (an exceptional one at that) visited us several times in the hospital and helped me understand from a medical standpoint a lot of what was going on. Even thought the doctors and nurses on duty were exceptional and accommodating, Jaime filled in the gaps and helped me when I needed additional explanations and reassurances.

Darin's boss, Mike, asked for a list of needs that we had and then worked with Darin's coworkers to meet them. He also went above and beyond to help us figure out his medical leave and benefits.  Mike and all of Darin's co workers have been by our side and provided in practical ways for the long haul. 

Another cohort from Darin's workplace built a wheelchair accessible ramp for our front door.  

Paul and Denise helped keep things running smoothly at home.  They've quietly, faithfully taken care of our pets, taken out our trash, provided stability for our children and supplied us with ice cream.

Sarah, a friend who runs an in-home-day care AND owns a gluten-free bakery kept Nora in the mornings for me and supplied Darin with yummy treats (both free of charge)!! Oh yeah, and she and her husband GAVE  us a mattress and box spring for our main floor for Darin's new bedroom. 

A sweet couple, Dean and Kelsey, took our little dog Minnie into their home and cared for her for several weeks when it became too difficult to care for her at our house.

Batman (yes, Batman) from an amazing group called "The Iowa League of Heros" made a special appearance at the hospital to cheer and encourage our children when they were out of sorts and worried about their daddy. 

Our friend, Troy, a builder, did the necessary changes to our main level bathroom so that Darin could access it when he returned home.

Teri, Laura, Jamie, Lindsay and their husbands helped me purge and organize our belongings in our house and rearrange rooms so that Darin would have a place to sleep on the main level of our home when he was discharged from the hospital. Dawn got my kids out of the house and spoiled them for a while when we worked on these projects.

Darin's parents and siblings, though they were suffering right alongside us, worked tirelessly to care for the kids, be by Darin's side in the hospital (day and night), and keep things running smoothly at our house.  I love being a team with them.

My parents traveled to Iowa and stayed with us for two weeks, helping with Childcare while Darin was In the hospital.

My friend Libby, a trained massage therapist, came to the hospital and worked the knots and kinks out of my shoulders.

Amy, a thoughtful friend, printed out pages of encouraging scriptures to put on the wall of Darin's hospital room. She also sent some snacks for me.

Mark and Cindy gave me a gift card for the hospital cafeteria for my meals while I was there.

Our church held a small worship service right in the courtyard of the hospital so that our entire family could perticipate and fellowship together.

An entire ARMY of friends, co workers, and relatives came to our home on the weekend before Darin's return home to complete a long list of projects that Darin had on his to do list before his accident. 

Y'all, this isn't even all of the help we received. It is too numerous to mention it all.  AND this was all provided just during the time of Darin's hospital stay. It would take another blogpost to share about the help that has come our way since he returned home almost four months ago. 

To those mentioned (and not mentioned) here.  Thank you. I could never repay you. Thank you for being the hands and feet of Jesus.  Thank you invconveniencing yourselves. Thank you for using your gifts to help. Thank you for not letting us walk through our crisis alone. You are appreciated and loved. And I pray for God's hand of blessing to fall upon you.

Xoxo,

The Only Thing That Feels Normal

The moment I was brought back from the waiting room in the ER to see Darin for the first time since we'd arrived, I lacked confidence that there was anything I could do to comfort or help him.  I was afraid to touch him, as if I would cause more damage in doing so.  He was conscious and answered my questions, but the intensity of his pain and then the strength of his pain meds kept us from really conversing.  Pastor Scott encouraged me to pray for him out loud when I was at a loss of what to do for him, and I did, but I struggled to see my efforts as amounting to anything of value.

Later that night, Darin was transferred to the ICU and I only felt more reluctant and lacking in confidence to offer anything.  I wanted to support him, but IVs, monitors, beeping machines and the hustle and bustle of medical staff all seemed beckon me into the background.

I spent the first night in the hospital, but soon realized that I would need to stay at home for the overnights thereafter,  We had family members and willing friends to stay with him during the long nights ahead (more on that later) but our children needed the presence of their mother at night and I needed to try to be somewhat rested for spending my days at the hospital.  I slept in our guestroom at home.  I just couldn't handle being in OUR bed without him.  Sleep was hard to come by and was often interrupted by anxiety attacks. I missed him terribly. I wished he could hold me.

I was put in touch early on with another woman whose husband experienced a spinal cord injury a few years back and is now living with paraplegia.  We started to connect through phone calls and texts.  An early message from her read:

 "Keep your chin up.  He's still with you and that's what is important. He still has arms to hold you and the kids."

Her words were so reassuring.  Getting to a place where he could hold me again seemed pretty far off but eventually, after he'd been on the rehab floor for awhile I was able to climb onto his hospital bed and squeeze in next to him every so often.  One of those times he said to me:

"Holding you is the only thing that feels normal to me right now."

Even though I had gained more confidence to support him, encourage him and advocate for him long before that moment, I realized something very important right then. It was not what I did for him that made the biggest difference.  I wasn't going to let him down or mess things up if I didn't always know the "right way" to react in moments of crisis.  I was giving him a gift simply by letting him hold me. I was the only thing that "felt normal" when everything else had changed.

We, like every couple, have had our struggles in marriage. We have had times where we felt like we just kept dealing with the same "issues" over and over and over again.  Every so often it has seemed like a losing battle.  Forgive the cliche but the fiery trials we have been facing during the past couple months have truly burned away the petty things and revealed just how much victory God has actually given us.  Victory might not have always "felt" like what we wanted it to through the years.  But now I believe that victory is "holding on" even when it is hard.  And now, it is literally the best gift we can give to each other.

xoxo,

Sometimes Fear Traps Us in a Dungeon

Darin had recently been transferred out of the ICU.  It had been over a week since Lucy and Collin saw their daddy whisked away on a fire truck and in a couple of days they would see him for the first time since the accident.  It was a daunting task, but I knew I needed to start explaining to them that their daddy's injury would mean permanent changes for him and all of us. I showed them a picture of their daddy immobilized in the ICU complete with an NG tube, all kinds of monitors, and a picc line.  I told them that when he came home, he would be in a wheel chair and probably wouldn't be able to walk yet (if ever). I told them that no one but God knew when he would be able to come home from the hospital.  For a five and seven-year-old, it already seemed like an eternity since they'd seen him.  I was not prepared for all the questions that would come from them, particularly from Lucy, when I gave them this information.  Here's a sampling from one of our conversations:

"How will Daddy go potty when he gets home?"

"Well. I don't know yet.  But the doctors and nurses will teach him how to go potty."

"How will he get his pajamas on?"

"Well, I will help him!"

"But are you strong enough?"

"Well, I don't know! But I hope so."

I ended up being grateful for the questions, because they helped me to systematically confront many of the disorganized  fears that were floating around in my brain. Our family has faced a lot of fears, starting the moment the accident occurred, and new ones have popped up each day ever since. 

Two days after the accident-the day before Darin's surgery-I was pretty shaky with fear.  I could best describe it as the feeling you have when you are about to throw up.  You aren't looking forward to it, but you know that you will probably feel better when it is all done so you wish you could hasten it. On that day, I was talking to my sister on the phone and she told me that her youngest daughter, my 11-year-old niece, Grace, had written and illustrated a story for my kids that was intended to help them through this difficult time.  She hadn't put all the finishing touches on her artwork, but my sister promised to send me pictures of the story in a series of texts.  When I received them, the story took my breath away.  It turned out to be the very thing I needed to get through that day:

"Once upon a time, there was a beautiful princess named Lucy.  There was also a very strong and courageous knight named Collin"

"One day, Collin was on his way home from outsmarting a giant and conquering a dragon and he heard the beautiful voice of a girl singing a beautiful song. He thought, 'Oh my, that must be Princess Lucy!  I must go and see her!' But there was one problem. He couldn't find where she was."

" 'Hmmm,' he thought, 'How will I be able to know where Princess Lucy is? Ooh! Maybe I should call her name and she will answer me!' He cupped his hands around his mouth and called, 'Oh Lucy!  Where are you?!' Then he heard a faint, 'Down here, strong and mighty Collin, the monster has put me in a dungeon!' "

" 'What monster? Is it a dragon? I'm good at fighting dragons!' Collin said. 'No,'  Lucy said, 'It's a very bad monster, his name is Fear. You have to conquer it!' Lucy was shaking, just thinking of his name. 'Don't worry, I will,' Collin said.  Then, Fear started coming out."

" 'He's (gulp) bigger than I thought,' Collin said.  Then Lucy whispered, 'Pray! Think something like God is with me, God is with me! It will help!'  Collin started to slowly walk toward Fear, thinking, 'God is with me, God is with me!' Fear felt really confused, because Collin wasn't scared."

"Fear started backing away while Collin was stepping forward.  Then Collin smiled.  He stopped, he looked fear right in the eye and yelled at the top of his lungs, 'I...AM...A...STEVENSON!!'  Fear looked terrified. Then, in a sudden burst, he disappeared."

" 'We conquered the fear! We conquered the fear!  Hooray!' Lucy and Collin shouted with delight. And ever since that day, when Collin conquered the fear, Lucy and Collin and the whole kingdom lived happily ever after.  The End."

 

I wonder if my sweet niece had any idea the gift she gave our entire family when she wrote and shared this story with her cousins.  For me, personally, I have been given a way to articulate my experiences ever since Darin fell off that ladder:  Sometimes, the "very bad monster named Fear"  has trapped me in a dungeon. Things seem complicated in those moments.  But the solution for me, in Christ Jesus is simple:   Pray. Say "God is with me!" Remember who I am in Him, and take the first few steps in facing my fears.

Does this story touch you too? If you know of anyone, big or little, who could use some encouraging words about facing fear, I hope you will share it with them. I would love for Grace to know how much impact her story has on others, so if you or someone you know is ever touched by it, please let me know so I can pass it along to her.

By the way: please don't copy, or redistribute Grace's story, or present it as your own.  If you share with others, I ask that do so by simply sharing this blog post as is!

xoxo,

Darin

It's been fairly quiet over here for awhile. Despite my inactivity on this blog, 2015 is proving to be a big year for our family, and not in a way we would have ever imagined, expected or asked for.

On March 27th, we were enjoying a relaxed and laid back Friday afternoon.  Darin had taken the day off from work and we were enjoying a little "stay-cation".  We had stayed the night before at a local hotel that had an indoor water park.  We'd been back home for perhaps an hour and a half and it was a beautiful day.   Darin decided to go into the backyard to finish installing a zip line that he'd been working on for Lucy and Collin.  It was a part of the amazing play barn he'd been building for them:

Nora was napping, Lucy was working with one of her respite providers, Collin was engrossed in his own activities and I was tidying up in the "school room" when I heard a thud from outside and the sound of Darin groaning in pain.  I quickly ran to our backyard and found him on his back sprawled on the ground. His fifteen foot ladder, fully extended, was leaning against our maple tree. 

 "Honey, should I call an ambulance or do you think I can get you into the van and take you to the ER?" I asked him calmly.
"Call an ambulance," he responded with a calmness that matched mine. Thankfully, our next door neighbor was home, saw what was happening and was by Darin's side while I ran in to retrieve my phone.

I told Lucy and Collin that their daddy was hurt, I was calling an ambulance and that we were going to "trust God with their daddy". I dialed 911 and went back to Darin who at this point was completely unaware of what happened, what day it was or what he had been doing.

In a flash, a team of paramedics arrived, assessed his condition, cut his clothing off and put him on a stretcher. Lucy and Collin witnessed these moments and Lucy immediately began crying and expressed her fears that her daddy was too hurt to go back to work and that we would not "have any money to buy food".  Collin watched silently with his lip quivering. Our pastor's wife, Laura, arrived to stay with all the kids so that Ruth, Lucy's respite provider could be relieved and I could go to the ER with Darin.

We made it to the ER and I sat calmly in the waiting room, waiting to hear what the initial exam and x-ray revealed.  I was determined not to "jump to any conclusions" yet.  Our pastor, Scott showed up and was already giving support and praying with me when the trauma doctor approached me in the waiting room.

"He has a fractured vertebrae.  And a spinal cord injury.  He has sensation in his legs, but no movement," she explained.

"Sensation, but no movement," I repeated, "Ummm, what is the difference between sensation and movement?" I dumbly asked.

"He can tell if something is touching his legs, but he cannot move them. He will be transferred soon to the ICU where you will meet with a neurosurgeon to discuss the next steps."

The calm suddenly gave way to fear and Scott put his arm around my shoulders as the tears freely came.

 A LOT has happened since that afternoon.  Darin was hospitalized for a total of 40 days.  The hospital stay included a seven-hour surgery to stabilize the burst vertebrae, one week in the ICU, one week in acute care and four weeks of inpatient rehabilitation. He spends most of his time in a wheel chair now, but praise God, he has regained some mobility in his legs!  He can even do some walking with a leg brace and his walker! But things will never be the same.

He is now back home and has been here for three weeks. He is trying to get used to life with his new disability and we are all adjusting to big changes.  I am learning to be his caregiver, keeping up with parenting our children, and starting to pick up as many of his former household responsibilities as I can.  We have A LOT of help.  We have more support than we could have ever dreamed of.  We are NOT on this journey alone.  God is taking care of us through His people.

It is still hard.  There are a lot of unknowns about the future and we are facing a lot of fears. I don't have a lot of free time.  Right now I am staying up later than I should, typing this.  But, I feel like I need to start processing the past two months in writing and also document the journey going forward as best as I am able.  I want to use this blog as an outlet to do that.  I hope you will be blessed by the stories I have to share.  Stay tuned.

 

 

xoxo,