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,