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Day 516 - November 13 - More Special

2009-11-13T06:10:00.000-08:00

So, briefly, did you give any thought at all to the idea that you're royalty? Because the amazing truth is not just that we're royal, but that we, as believers, are heirs of God. Not just some little baron or duchess or something, but heirs. That means we inherit His kingdom. Which means it's ours.

OK, but so what, right? I mean, what's that got to do with Connor? What possible difference does it make to Connor that he, or you, or I, are heirs of God? Why this long babbling tirade about being something special to God, something worthy of inheritance?

Well, I thought you'd never ask!

The reason is this -

If you, and I, and Connor are heirs of God, then it stands to reason that you, I, and Connor are significantly special to God. If that's true, then you, I, and Connor have special standing in the eyes of God, by virtue of our inheritance. Now, the recipient of an inheritance has a binding claim to the property s/he is going to inherit, giving them a sort of ownership of the inheritance which gives them the right to act in a certain way. Do you follow me? If you inherit something, you own it, and you act that way. Even if your inheritance is in the future, it still gives you a certain standing in regard to the inheritance.

You're not a visitor anymore. You're an owner.

And so you can stride into the place you've inherited in confidence rather than fear.

So, what I'm getting at is that you, I, and Connor, if we're followers of Christ Jesus, have the authority to be bold in God's throne room. We can be forthright when we speak to God about our needs and desires. We can be, dare I say it, "fervent" in our prayer.

Because we are, like the old Southern Baptist hymn says, "joint heirs with Jesus".

Assuming you've ever purchased a house, do you remember that sense of ownership and pride that came once all the papers were signed on your first house? Do you remember going out front and walking across the street, just to turn around and look at the place? That's ownership. And that's what I'm talking about when I talk about how you approach God - not as a beggar, but as an heir, an owner, a treasured child.

You are inheriting the place - I just want you, when you're praying, to act like it.

Enough of that - now to the real news.

Connor has again begun struggling with his O2 saturation - his lungs seem to be struggling to move his oxygen. We had a good last few days, especially Wednesday, when I took the day off and the three of us drove out along the coast for a change of view. We had a great dinner at a little seafood restaurant down in Moss Landing, and then came on home, and we all enjoyed the change and the time together. All that was good, but over the last few days he's begun developing that difficulty in staying saturated again. Please be praying for him, especially at night. I don't know if it's a cold, or bronchitis or pneumonia, or what; all I know is that he needs to be able to breathe correctly.

Please be lifting him up for that.

Also, please remember Cherié in all this. She is getting tireder and tireder (yes, I know that's not a word!), and needs your support.

We really appreciate it, y'all.

E.

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Day 515 - November 12 - Something Special

2009-11-12T06:00:00.000-08:00

I've been reading the Book of the Acts of the Apostles (that's "Acts" if you use the vernacular title) recently, because I want to see what kinds of things people who were unarguably human did when they were filled with the Holy Spirit. You'd be amazed at some of the things these guys did, so I suggest you go read it again and check it out. In the meantime, I have been pondering something about myself, something which I suspect affects each of us to some degree or another, and I found an interesting observation into it in the Book of Acts. This, by the way, doesn't have much to do with Connor's situation except obliquely, but bear with me...

The thing I think we all deal with at one time or another is self-image, to use the current psycho-mumbojumbo. I'm talking about how we perceive ourselves, and I've been thinking about it particularly in light of how we approach God in prayer. I told you last time that I wanted us to be more fervent in our prayer life, and how I want to be earnest and fervent in prayer rather than locked into "meaningless repetition", as Jesus called it in Matthew 6:7.

But how often do we feel unworthy to bring our requests before God? Yeah, we all know how we're supposed to "approach the Throne of Grace with confidence", and all that, but really - do you ever feel like you're not going to be heard because of who you really are way down deep? I do sometimes, that's for sure. And what I'm really saying in my heart when I feel that way is "I'm not worthy enough for You to listen to me".

Now, as far as that goes, it's actually correct; I'm not worthy to be in the presence of God - except for that one teensy-tiny detail; that Jesus' cleansing blood, spilled on the cross for us, makes us worthy to be there. But knowing something is true, and acting on that truth are two different things. You, with all your baggage, have direct access to the presence of God on His throne - but we feel too dirty and common to use that access. Imagine, if you will, that you are a beggar on the streets, a homeless bum, your ragged clothing covered in dirt, lice, and fleas, and you are told that you now have unfettered access to the ear of the King. Not just to one of His lackeys; you can go into His throne room and talk directly with Him, and He'll listen to you. Just as you are. Wouldn't you feel just a bit uncomfortable because of your dirtiness?

Now take it a step further - what if you're a reasonably well-to-do merchant who's told the same thing? While your reaction might not be as severe as the beggar, you would still reasonably be nervous about approaching this Person who reigns over all of your life and livelihood, wouldn't you? I think you would, and the British can tell you why - it's because the King is "royal", and you're just a "commoner". There's a gap between the two of you.

So now, back to prayer. If my analogy holds up, then the reason we feel like we do when we're praying can be chalked up in the simple concept that God is massively royal, while we're massively common. And that makes us just a bit uncomfortable, follow me?

OK, so that brings me back to the Book of Acts. I know most of you are familiar with the story of Peter's dream, where the sheet comes down from heaven with all the animals in it and God tells Peter to kill and eat, right? That's in Acts 10, if you're interested. Peter doesn't want to eat from the animals because he's never touched anything that's unclean, remember? And you know the outcome - God ends up convincing Peter through that dream that he is to begin reaching out to the Gentiles - you know the story.

But here's the interesting thing for the day - when God overrides Peter's objections, look at the words He uses, out of Acts 10:15 -

"What God has made clean, do not call common."

I don't know about you, but I always saw that in reference to eating food, or that God was kinda saying "Yeah they're Gentiles, but they're special to Me because I say they're special to Me, so go to them". I have never seen that verse for what it says - that what God has cleansed isn't common anymore, so don't call it that.

Wait a second - didn't God cleanse us with Christ's blood? Haven't believers been "washed in the blood of the Lamb"? But that would mean...

...that we aren't common anymore?

And that would mean...

...we're...

...royalty?

I think it's time to let that sit and sink in for a bit.

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Day 513 - November 10 - Status Update

2009-11-10T06:15:00.000-08:00

I was looking back through some of the posts I've made here over the last few months, and I don't remember if I ever gave y'all an update on a request I made back in September. I had made a request for someone with some design and fabrication skills to help with getting Connor a few things that we can't seem to find anywhere.

Well, in case I didn't ever tell you, a friend of ours stepped up and has been very busy doing some fabrication to help solve one of Connor's accessibility problems. I'll make sure to tell you about it once it's complete, but I wanted to let you know that some progress is being made in at least one area to help make Connor's life just a bit easier. Thanks for the help, Joey! We can't wait to see it in action!

As for the boy himself, well, we can't wait to see him back in action either! He's been having a rough few days again - it seems he's got another chest cold or something - once again he's having difficulty with staying saturated with oxygen.

You know, the Bible says that the effective, fervent prayer of a righteous man is a powerful thing. Read James 5:13-18. Do you ever think of your prayers as "working", as in "The prayer of a righteous person has great power as it is working"? Most of the time we tend to think of our prayers floating up to God somewhere like the smoke of incense or something, but that's not what the Bible tells us they do. It tells us that they're working. As in "getting something done". As in "digging in their heels and finishing the job".

Now here's the word picture for the day - I tinker around a little bit with my motorcycles, and I can do some of the routine maintenance like changing tires and oil and stuff like that. I use tools for that, like wrenches and sockets and screwdrivers and such. Now, most of the time, when I want to say, take off a tire, I'll put a wrench on the axle nut and turn it. But every once in a while, for whatever reason, the nut won't turn easily. So the first thing I do is set my body and shoulder and try to turn the nut with more force. In other words, I try more fervently. Sometimes that works, sometimes not. Now when it still won't turn, I've got a thing called a cheater bar, which is just a six-foot-long piece of pipe that will fit over the handle of my socket wrench. The extra length gives me the leverage necessary to turn the nut and remove the wheel. But it's the image of "trying harder" that I want to capture here, because it conveys the idea of fervency very well. There's a moment in that struggle where every muscle I can bring to bear is straining against that nut. Every fiber of my thought is focused on that nut. The concentration and effort are so great that I've busted a sweat trying to get stuff like that done.

That's "fervent".

Do you pray like that for Connor? Do I? Do our prayers for him qualify as "fervent" prayers? Honestly, most of the time I think the answer is "no". It's hard to maintain that level of effort. But it stands to reason that greater needs require greater effort, just like that axle nut sometimes needs more oomph behind the wrench to start turning. And I think that sometimes our fervency gets lost in the day-to-day job of getting things done. So I want to go back to that. I want to go back to anguished petition to my Lord for my son's healing. I want you to do that with me.

It says in Acts 12 that when Peter was imprisoned by Herod, "earnest prayer" was being lifted up by the church for him. And an angel showed up and rescued him. But the interesting part, to me, is that Herod had arrested Peter and then held him for a week or more, right up until the last night before Peter was to be delivered up to the Jews, before the angel appeared. The church was praying earnestly for Peter the whole time, but it wasn't until the last night that Peter was released.

Don't give up on Connor's healing. The time is apparently not ripe, but it's coming. Continue to lift the boy up fervently with me.

It availeth much.

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Day 511 - November 8 - Halloween

2009-11-08T07:03:00.000-08:00

OK, it's not Halloween, but my "Halloween blog" just arrived in my head this morning, so you're gonna get it today. I don't think I can effectively hold onto it for another 51 weeks!

I think a lot about how I approach God. You see, deep inside, I'm as manipulative and conniving as the next guy, and because I am a member of a fallen race, I have a tendency to try to figure out stuff in a way that gets me what I want. Don't be too surprised; I suspect you'll have to admit that you're often the same way. It's OK - it's all part of the "old man" from whom we're relying on Christ to separate us. So I can be honest and say that unless I catch myself, I usually fall back into this mode of trying to figure out the "right" way to do something in order to get what I want (as opposed to doing something in a way that pleases God as an end in itself). See, that's where Christ and I are different - He didn't quit wanting things per se; He just went about it all in a way that pleased God. I'm not quite there yet (Eric said, in the understatement of the year).

So, I think a lot about how I approach God (as if I could sneak up on Him and steal away with Connor's healing without Him noticing!). Pretty silly when you put it like that, eh? You see, my biggest problem in everything I do is my attitude. If whatever it is that's going on fits with my personal idea of how things should be, then all is good. But look out if it doesn't - then, in actions reminiscent of the world's tallest spoiled two-year-old, I make sure you know how I feel. The facial expressions, the body language, the smart-aleck comments, all point to the fact that I'm not a happy camper inside. Oh, yeah - I also justify those actions by saying that I don't want to be dishonest with people about how I feel. Pretty pathetic, but also still true.

Now, things in our life aren't exactly going as I'd like them to. Another big understatement. And my biggest struggle in this situation is how to respond to it. I want to throw a temper tantrum and cry out to the world "This sucks! You have no idea how bad this sucks!". But you already know how bad it sucks - I don't need to keep telling you. I don't want to acknowledge that God put us in this place, and (because of that alone) we should be rejoicing to be used by Him in any way at all. I don't want to do that. I'd rather be miserable. Aren't humans weird? I can't figure out why God made us this way...

Anyway, what's all this got to do with Halloween? Well, I don't know about your house, but at our house each year we have a couple of different styles of trick-or-treaters that come by on that evening. The first group is the one I love - all these kids, between the ages of two and, oh, about 10 or 12, who come scrambling to the door dressed in this vast panoply of costume and make-believe. And as soon as I open the door, they shout out "TRICKORTREAT" in those wonderful piping kids' voices, with bags and plastic pails shaped like pumpkins thrust out in front of them. I love those kids - every fiber of their being is focused, for just a second or two, on this momentary act of petition to me. And I love - and let me repeat that - I LOVE - to jam my hand into my candy bowl and ladle out big heaping handfuls of treats to these kids. It's just so fun to engage them for that moment or two, when they're absolutely caught up in that moment of asking, that it's impossible for me not to love them and give them what they so obviously want.

And then there's the other group.

This group is comprised of mostly 12 to 18-year-olds, although there may be younger ones occasionally as well. This crowd is usually dressed in their normal street attire - sweatshirts and jeans, for the most part - and they travel in packs from door to door. Upon my opening the door, a few of them will mumble something that might, in the most generous sense, be "trick or treat", but which might also be mistaken fo a softly muttered "gimme all your candy, or else!". The others just gaze sullenly at a point somewhere around my knees, holding out pillowcases in which to gather all the ill-gained fruits of their blackmail attempts. You see, when I open the door to juveniles like these, I don't feel happy, or pleased to hand out candy - I feel like I"m being strong-armed at my own front door to give them what they want or risk their retribution. So I give them a token candy sampling, not out of love, but out of fear that they'll go slash my tires if I don't.

Now, which group would you rather entertain? Which group's attitude (there's that word again) effectively makes you want to give them anything you can? Right - the first one. And which one's attitude makes you want to say "Look, you losers - get a costume, put a little spirit into it, THEN come see me about some candy!"? Bingo - the second one, of course. And if this little life lesson from my front door has any applicability, in a cosmic sense, to my approach to God, then why in the world do I insist on trying to show God how unhappy I am with His plan?

How do you approach God? With joy and confidence because you KNOW that He delights to give good things? Or as a sullen beggar who is just hoping for a handout? If you know Him, then quit acting like you don't. Approach the Throne of Grace (interesting name, huh? That's worth a blog right there, all by itself) - approach the Throne of GRACE with confidence (Hebrews 4:16), as befits a child of the King. Because He satisfies His children with good things (Psalm 103:5).

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Day 508 - November 5 - Wishing I Felt Like It

2009-11-05T05:31:00.000-08:00

"In all these things we are more than conquerors through Him who loved us."

That's Romans 8:37. I've always loved that imagery - MORE than conquerors. As if somehow, strutting through the streets of the vanquished enemy's capitol with your sword over your shoulder and looking forward to reaping the benefits of your victory just isn't quite good enough. No, being a conqueror doesn't quite cut it - we're more than conquerors through Christ. What a great word picture!

But - despite the fact that the language is in the present tense, and despite the fact that I know the statement to be true on a spiritual level, I would hesitate to use the words to describe me, in this situation. I'm not some valiant man who is confidently striding off the field of battle with a swagger in his step as he surveys the wreckage of his enemies - instead I'm being beaten and harassed around the field, struggling to even stay in the fight while surrounded by a nightmare of foes, while the adversary whispers that if I'll just quit fighting and put up my sword, it will all be over.

Which is also undoubtedly true - the fight would be over if I would just quit - but it would not only be a loss, but also a dismal betrayal of the Master I serve and those who have fought alongside me. I guess that's what keeps a soldier fighting against overwhelming odds, even though all his squad has been overrun and destroyed and he's all alone. That must be the thing that drives a man to refuse to surrender in the face of an implacable enemy - the knowledge that he can't let his leader and his fellow soldiers down, and the will to choose to not do so.

And that is what is helping me keep my focus here - I don't feel like a conqueror because I'm in the middle of the fight. You never feel like you've won while you're battling - even when the fight is obviously going your way, you still know you have to finish the struggle before you can stop and enjoy the win. The Yankees couldn't be reveling in their victory today if they'd stopped playing the game in the sixth inning, you know? So is it any wonder we don't feel like we've vanquished this foe?

And I guess that's my point today - each of us is facing something that overwhelms us, that throws us into deep water. Some are facing things that can, and often do, bring to a close this earthly chapter of existence. But it's not really a question of whether we survive intact to climb out into the sunshine, blinking, and realize that the battle is won. No, it's really a question of how we choose to fight, and how long we choose to fight. I'd like to be seen as a man who didn't shirk from the hard things in his life, who stood firm for his Master. Even in the face of this.

I hope y'all saw Cherié's post on the previous thread - Connor and she are both doing much better since the other day, and we truly appreciate your prayers. They've been having tough nights lately, and Cherié in particular is really, really tired. Please be lifting her up for rest. I try to spell her for a few hours before I go to work, but it's not enough, and she's exhausted. And it gets worse for her when Connor's having difficulties all night and she's up and down trying to help, so please keep them both in your prayers for rest, and refreshment, and encouragement.

We love y'all.

E.

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Day 506 - November 3 - Nausea

2009-11-03T05:49:00.000-08:00

A quick request for prayer for you who care for the boy - we were unable to make Connor's appointment Monday because he's been very nauseous since early yesterday morning. We don't know what's causing it, but he, and we, are concerned about getting him up and leaving the house. We rescheduled the appointment for a couple of weeks from now, but he remains nauseous and unwell. He has been awake multiple times through the night, and Cherié as well. She's not feeling too good either, so I've sent her upstairs to get a couple of hours of uninterrupted sleep while I mind the shop downstairs before heading for work.

Please be praying for both Connor and Cherié, that whatever this is would pass quickly and that they would be able to rest and recuperate today. Pray also for their spirits - both of them are down, and the lack of sleep isn't helping. Pray that they would somehow be ministered to today.

Thank you,

E.

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Day 505 - November 2 - Music Soothes the Savage Breast

2009-11-02T05:49:00.000-08:00

Or so William Congreve once said. It's odd how that quote is so often misquoted as "soothes the savage beast", as if you could stop a rampaging grizzly bear from eating out your innards if you could just loan him your iPod! No, the savagery here lies inside us, not in the animal world, and Mr. C. was right - music does help calm us when we're in turmoil inside.

I was driving home from work last week, and as is often the case, my soul was tormented. I was feeling lonely and abandoned, so I did what I often do when that happens - I flipped on the radio and started cycling through my iPod, trying to find that one "perfect song" that God was going to use to minister to me. I couldn't find anything that calmed my spirit, so I was going to turn on K-LOVE (a Christian radio station) when I got to thinking - my Dad commuted 90 miles each way to White Sands Missile Range for a while when I was a kid; when he was feeling like I was feeling, what did he do to help? I mean, assuming that he even had a radio in his car in the 60s and 70's, there were still no Christian radio stations out in the desert of West Texas. He might have had a tape player, but there were certainly no CDs or iPods around. And that caused me to wonder what my grandfather would have done back in the 30s or 40s or 50s when he was feeling the way I was - and what about the generation before that, or (for that matter) the guys who lived in, say 287 AD? They had no way, when feeling oppressed by their circumstances, to flip a switch and have a pre-recorded musical interlude sweep in and make it all feel better - so what did they do?

That got me to thinking about my response to music in general. Stay with me here - it's a bit convoluted, but I actually do have a point. So I was thinking about how I use music in my life, and it began to dawn on me that nearly all of my response to God through music is as a spectator. I listen to some music that's uplifting or causes me to focus on God on the radio, or on my iPod, and if I even think seriously about the words, it's only for the duration of the song. On the radio in particular, you're immediately swept off to either a different song with a different focus, or you get to "interact" with the DJs as they banter about their next cruise to the Bahamas or something. At home, if I've got music playing, it's primarily background noise - I seldom give it any real attention. Even in church, when I sing along with the worship band, I am really just mouthing words that someone else decided would go good with the sermon today. Sure, I can pay attention to the words we're singing, and mean them; and once in a while the words will even move me spiritually. But for the most part, I do worship music as a spectator (or at best a passive follower). And I don't think that's how I'm supposed to worship. I also suspect that if you think about it, you'll conclude that you probably do the same thing. Am I right?

So, what did I do about it? Well, I don't really know what my grandfather would have done in a situation like this, but I imagine he had two of the same things that I have - a connection to the Living God, and a vast repertoire of spiritual music stuck in my head from years and years at church. So as I drove home, I turned off the radio, then I prayed out loud to God, telling Him that I thought He was worthy of more than just my mouth moving while I sang to the latest pre-recorded hit single from somebody about whom I know nothing. And I prayed that even though it wasn't peppy or modern or even on-key, that God would find my - MY - offering of worship to be pleasing to Him. And I asked Him to help me remember the right words to the right songs that would be most pleasing to Him, and then opened my mouth and began to sing. "Holy, Holy, Holy". "Wonderful Grace of Jesus". "How Great Thou Art". "And He Walks With Me". "There Rings a Melody". I just sang, and sang, and sang, and one song led to another, and to another, and to another. It was pretty cool - at the end of every song, there was another one in my head to sing. I didn't wrack my brain to come up with another one. I just sang.

And do you know what? I communed with God. And by the time I got home and the last creaky note died away inside the car, I wasn't oppressed anymore. I didn't feel abandoned anymore. I knew that I had been, for a few non-spectatorial moments, truly worshipping all by myself. No fancy guitar licks. No rockin' lyrics. Nobody else to carry the musical load and cover up my bad notes. Just a man and His God being of like mind. Wow.

So, I'm going to turn the radio off more often. Maybe there's something to that whole "be still and know that I am God" thing, after all!

Connor has to go get some ultrasounds done this afternoon. It's mostly routine for this situation - they need to make sure that all the things inside are still the way they're supposed to be, as folks who suffer from paralysis often have difficulties with many of their innards. So they do this every year or so just to identify any changes that might arise. For Connor, I'd ask you to be praying that the visit would go smoothly, particularly that the technicians would be able to get the necessary views without needing to get Connor out of his chair; and that the results would be normal - not "normal for people in this situation", which is often very different from "normal for you and me", but rather normal as in "properly functioning without flaw". Pray too for Cherié, as she will be getting him out the door by herself today. Pray for their safety, and please, please, please, continue to pray for his restoration. It's coming, and we can't wait!

Oh, and while you're at it, spend a bit of time in solitary worship with your God. He likes it.

E.

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Day 503 - October 31 - A Psalm of Eric

2009-10-31T10:37:00.000-07:00

First, I want to apologize to those of you who have been waiting for another post - I've been trying to get something posted since yesterday morning, but the website I use to do so has been either completely down, or glacially slow, since Friday at 0530. I've finally managed to get through Saturday at about 1030, so I'm going to post up something I've been working on for a few days and hope it goes through.

Connor has been pretty healthy this week, going to college Bible study on Thursday and out to the store with his friends yesterday. He is primed and ready to get out of that chair whenever God chooses to move. Please continue to pray about that!

I've been fiddling around with different styles of verse lately, and having become fascinated by the Psalms I thought I'd try my hand. This was written over the last week, and my hope is not that you'll think it's cool or neat or well-written, nor is it even that you might find it uplifting or moving or that it would speak to your spirit. My hope is that this would be a sweet smell of incense to my God.

A Psalm of Eric

Why do You hide, Lord? Why do You wait?
You, who move with power, You who speak from on high,
why do You not show Your strength?
Why do You not answer?

In the dark I cry out to You, Lord; in the morning I speak with You.
At every turn I run to You, but You do not speak.
Your silence rolls over me, and I fade in the face of it.
My spirit dries up within me, and I find no place to rest.

Where would I go, apart from You? To whom would I turn?
You alone can save. You alone can heal.
Apart from you, I am like an echo on the wind -
quickly heard and quickly gone.

Your words are a balm to my soul; withhold them not from me.
Your touch is like the sweetness of the first rain after the drought,
and I long for it.
Your face is hidden from me, and I cannot find it. Reveal Yourself, O Lord!

Your servant will rejoice,
Your people will draw near to You,
and the nations will know that You are the Lord.
For you hear me when I cry,
and Your mighty hand holds power and strength.

Praise the Lord, all you people,
for there is no hint of change in Him!
Yesterday He proved faithful, and saved you from your death.
So today will He remain, and tomorrow will He heal.
There is no shadow of turning in Him.
Praise the Lord! Praise the Lord!

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Day 500 - October 28 - Indy 500

2009-10-28T06:26:00.000-07:00

I must be depressed, because here it is, the 500th day since Connor's accident, and the only thing I can associate with the number 500 is the Indianapolis 500, which, unless you've lived your life lying unconscious on the beach on a remote tropical island somewhere, you know as the premier four-wheel motorsport event in America. It's also one of the most boring.

Ever since I discovered motorcycle road racing, I've found that motorsports that twist and turn and lay over on their side on purpose are a lot more fun to watch than a bunch of cars going in circles, even if they are doing it very fast. No offense to our NASCAR-loving members, but it's just not my bag.

So, here we are, 500 days into this journey, and you're asking "what's that got to do with the Indianapolis 500?" Well, let me tell you... Here's what happens at the Indy 500, from my slightly jaded perspective - you sit in an uncomfortable seat, either in the frying sun or the pouring rain, and you watch a bunch of cars go in circles, endlessly turning left for hours and hours on end. And as the noise increases, you say to yourself "Yep, here they come again". Repeat 500 times. Then go sit in traffic to go home. Sounds like my idea of a killer weekend - not.

Now, if you love Indy Car or NASCAR racing, please don't get too upset with me - I've got my own set of passions that you'll probably find ridiculous, too, so we're already even. No need to get into any rivalries over it all. But my perspective of the Indy 500 really shows a reflection of this whole journey for us. I continue to think of this as a journey, but more and more often it feels like we're just going around in circles. For 500 days we've done pretty much the same thing every day. For 500 days we've been crying out to God for His intervention, without visible results. I'm about to go insane with waiting for God to move (ask my mom - patience isn't my strong suit). And for what? Is the whole purpose of this significantly life-altering event so that we can be used as examples? I just don't understand how this is working for good for Connor, or for us, or for y'all, for that matter. Romans 8:28 says that it's supposed to - but how is it?

Fortunately, I can read on down a few verses and be reminded that Paul, at least, was convinced that nothing can separate us from God's love (Romans 8:38-39). So I can remember, in my head at least, that even though it sometimes feels like we've been rejected by God (and right now is one of those times, in case you didn't notice), it just isn't true. God is faithful to His word. He is the same, yesterday, and today, and forever. He is mighty to save. He is. Just watch.

And pray. The boy needs it, and we need it. I don't know how many more left turns we can make, but I do know I'd like a pitstop one of these days.

Thanks, y'all.

E.

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Day 497 - October 25 - He will carry you?

2009-10-25T06:16:00.000-07:00

And so another week passes, another week begins. Connor is pretty much as healthy as an ox - his O2 saturation is up for the most part, he's not having difficulty with his lungs or anything - he's got one thing we're trying to figure out, which is that if he's not actively engaged in a conversation or some activity, he drifts off. This hasn't been happening before, so we're trying to make sure he's OK. He's got blood work to do tomorrow to check his blood gases; we're wondering if he might be retaining too much CO2, which might make him extra drowsy. Unfortunately, the only way we can check that is with some blood tests, so please be praying for him and his health.

I think alot. Maybe too much, some would say. But I've been thinking over the last week or so about something I saw in a card in a store last week - I saw a greeting card with a poem on it, and I haven't been able to stop wondering about that poem. You see, I'm a word picture kind of guy. It helps me to visualize things to "see" them in words, so I like word pictures. But I also like them to be accurate, at least as far as they go.

Perhaps the most famous word picture of the last 70 years is a poem called "Footprints in the Sand" - where the author sees scenes from her life and notices that during the hard times, there's only one set of footprints. You've read it somewhere, I'm sure, but if you haven't, click here to read it...
Anyway, that's the poem that was on the greeting card.

Now, I think it's safe to say that the last 16 months in the Williamson household have been fairly hard. And during that time, I'm not sure I could point my finger at it and say "you know, I could sure tell that God was carrying us through that time". So I got to thinking - doesn't "being carried" imply some sort of security or comfort? I mean, what do little kids do when their parents pick them up and carry them when they're hurt or scared? They bury their heads into Mom or Dad's neck until they feel better, right? You've all seen it - the little child gets frightened by the dog or the strange man in the store or something else new to his experience, and he immediately turns and grabs hold of Mom's leg until she picks him up and makes him feel safe again. That's what I picture when I think about God carrying us through stuff.

But I don't feel that way. I don't feel safe, or protected, or secure until the bad thing goes away. Instead, I feel exposed, and scared, and threatened, and lonely. I just don't feel like we're being carried here.

So, me being me, I looked it up. I did a search to find the Scriptural references that support the idea that God carries us when bad things happen. And guess what I found. You guessed it - it's not in there.

Like so often seems to be happening these days, another of the things I thought were true just isn't - at least not in the sense that we think. I searched for any reference I could find of God carrying us through the tough times, and it's not in there! Go look!

Here's what I found - there are two references to God carrying people; one each in Isaiah 40 and 46, and neither are aimed at "hey, you're having a hard time so I'll pick you up". Chapter 40 in particular talks about little sheep being carried, and so I got to thinking - what would that word picture look like? When a shepherd carries a lamb, it's not when it's in danger. Think about it - the shepherd has responsibility for all of his flock, not just one - and so when there's danger around, he doesn't tie up his hands by filling them with baby lambs; he leaves them in the flock so his hands and feet are free to go face the threat. He doesn't just carry lambs for the fun of it - they have to walk along with the flock just like all the other sheep. And he doesn't carry lambs when they're sick - he tends them, yes - but he doesn't sling them over his shoulders and carry them around all day.

Hmmm, says I. So the only real reference to God carrying His people is when He refers to them as tiny lambs - which are, after all, baby sheep. That verse also says He "gently leads" those that are with young, so it seems to me that (despite my fervent wishes), God doesn't lug us around too much. Instead, he knows that the older, stronger sheep know the Shepherd's voice and follow instead.

So, another really good word picture shot down for lack of Biblical support. Hmm. Maybe I should just look there instead of relying on an inspirational poster - waddya think? 8-) Same thing with that song "He will carry you" -

So I continue to think of how kids behave when they're growing up, and I can remember the time when Connor and Joélle could hardly pause before climbing into my arms when they were scared or hurt. But I can also remember the time coming when I tried to hold them when they were hurting, and they didn't need or want it anymore. They had grown up so much that even if I had wanted to pick them up and hold them, they were just too big. They had matured beyond the need to be up in Dadda's arms to feel safe. Yeah, they still get hugs now and again, but the days of Dad hoisting them up into the protection of his arms are long gone.

Maybe it's a sign of spiritual immaturity, but I really want to be carried here. We're tired of walking this path. It's scary. It's intimidating. It's dry, and thirsty, and lonely. I would love to be picked up in some strong arms and just know that I was safe. But I'm one of the adult sheep - I don't get to do that. But I know my shepherd's voice, and so even though I'm scared I still follow. I just wish He would get us out of this scary place. Soon.

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Day 494 - October 22 - Praying for Faith

2009-10-22T06:13:00.000-07:00

First, I apologize for not blogging sooner this week. Just one of those weeks, I guess - the "What to Blog About" Department had apparently gone on strike!

A quick update - as you remember, Connor has been struggling to remain saturated with enough oxygen over the last few months, and y'all have been praying for him as he goes. Well, over the last couple of weeks, he's been having a daytime saturation above 97%! To put that in comparison, when I use the oximeter on me, I usually get a 95 or 96% reading, and the boy's been in the low 90s over the last few months (below 90 is not good, just to remind you). But recently his lungs have been healing and working the way they're intended, and he's staying saturated at much higher levels. This helps him feel better physically, which of course makes all of our days go easier! So - many, many thanks for your prayers, and much praise to God for working through you in him.

Now I'm going to ask you for some more help. The other day we were talking with the boy, and we asked him how he would like us to be praying for him. He answered "Pray for my faith". Daily he faces horror that I cannot fathom. Every moment his loss is thrust in his face, and progress seems as far from him as ever. It is exceedingly hard to keep your eyes on Christ when all of your existence clamors for your attention, and he's feeling it. So I'm asking you to join us in coming along side him right now and helping him have the strength to keep looking to Christ. Over the last 16 months y'all have rallied around us when our faith was quivering; I'm asking you to do it again for the boy. Please.

This morning I read a quote from Charles Spurgeon, something that goes like "Who told you that day wouldn't follow night? Who said that your winter would go only from snow to freeze, from frost to ice?" And I said to myself "Self, you know that when you're at work and somebody tells you a rumor that somebody else passed to them, you often say 'consider the source'?" Well, that's what Spurgeon is saying - when your spirit hears something, examine whether it's true, and if it even could be. Consider the source. Does it jibe with what God says about it? If not, then quit listening to the lies.

So today I (and I'll get Connor on board, too) am going to start trying to consider the source of my feelings. Who told me this situation would last until I die? Not God. Who told me all my hopes and dreams for the future are gone? Not God. Who said that Connor will never walk again? Again, not God. No, His plans are to give us a future and a hope, according to Jeremiah. So I ask myself "Well, if it's not God, then who is it?"

It's time to consider the source.

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Day 490 - October 18 - Sunday Morning

2009-10-18T05:42:00.000-07:00

Connor has made it through the week again, and so have we. He remains healthy, and has begun practicing his vent weaning again after that long period battling low O2 saturation. It looks like his saturation levels are mostly back to where they were a few months ago, so we've started practicing his breathing off the vent again. I would ask you for a couple of things in that area - that you would be praying for him that this weaning process would be successful, and that he would be quickly defeat the need for the ventilator at all, and that he would stay motivated to try to do so. It's hard work for him, and it's hard for him to stay motivated in the face of such slow progress. Please continue to lift him up in this.

As for the rest of us, one bit of news I don't think I mentioned is that Joélle has been selected as an intern at the Rehabilitation Institute of Chicago! For those who may not be familiar with RIC, it is arguably one of the finest rehab hospitals in the world, and she is thrilled to have been selected to work there. She'll be working with patients, helping them deal with their situations emotionally and spiritually - something she is well-suited for and has experience dealing with; they're fortunate to have her. We're exceedingly proud of her!

Pray for us this morning as we try to get out to church as well - we've had difficulty getting out the door for several weeks now, so your support is greatly appreciated.

God bless you as you start your new week.

E.

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Day 488 - October 16 - 16 Months

2009-10-16T06:27:00.000-07:00

Sixteen months ago today, Connor ran down that beach.

Twelve months ago today, Connor came home from the hospital to stay.

Twelve months ago he couldn't hold his head up. He couldn't sit up for more than an hour or so. He had to sleep in the dining room - there was no where else he could get to in the house.

Twelve months later he's much stronger. He's up 10-12 hours a day. He has control of his head and neck muscles. On Monday the doctor was doing her tests, and I watched him respond to pinpricks at roughly his shoulder level - when we first went to her he didn't feel anything below his chin.

12 months ago, if you saw Connor at all, it was in the company of Cherié and I. Today, you might run into him with his friends around town.

So we thank God for bringing him this far. We thank Him for the people who have gathered around us to help - whether it's building, or cooking, or errands, or whatever - we haven't forgotten you, and we are so thankful to God for you.

Thanks for journeying with us, thanks for praying with us, thanks for believing with us. God moves.

E.

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Day 486 - October 14 - How do I know?

2009-10-14T06:14:00.000-07:00

The other day, one of our members asked me a question. It deserves an answer (and also gives me a chance to talk about my favorite topic), so I wanted to devote a bit of time to it. Here's her question -

I don't know how to ask this question without appearing insensitive or rude, but....why do you think God will heal Connor specifically?

Doesn't our friend, who has a strong Christian faith and family, also, deserve isn't the correct word, but some how qualify, for God's intervention? What about the millions of other Christians who believe in God and His ability to heal, who are also patiently or impatiently pleading to God for restoration and relief from the burden of a SCI?

So, here goes. Why do I think God will heal Connor specifically? Well, I don't know that what I am doing is "thinking" that Connor will be healed. Before you cry "that's just semantics", let me 'splain. There are really four words in English that are often used interchangeably when we talk about faith, primarily because the language doesn't really have good words for what it is we mean. So sometimes we say that we "think" something, sometimes we say we "hope" something, sometimes we say we "believe" something, and sometimes we say we "know" something. And we use them like they mean the same thing, but they don't, not really. Let me try to give you some examples so you see what I mean:

I "think" that someday humans will go to Mars - not a strongly-held feeling, just looking at the available evidence and reaching a conclusion.

I "hope" the Cubs will win a World Series in my lifetime - not much evidence of this, but it's possible.

I "believe" Christ is preparing a place for us, where we will spend eternity in the very presence of The Living God - Scripture says so. I have satisfactorily demonstrated to myself that the Bible's claim to be the living, breathing word of God is true, I accept that what it says about our relationship with God is true, and so I believe that what it says about the future is true as well.

I "know" that my wife won't divorce me, because I know her as a person through long exposure, I know her integrity, I feel her love. I base my knowledge of her future actions on my relationship with her and on my understanding of her character.

So, four different ways of expressing my view of what the future holds, see?

All of which doesn't explain why I feel about Connor's restoration the way I do. And the answer is wrapped up in all four of these things, and based on God's word to me as expressed in the Scripture. Let me say this - my faith is not that Connor will walk again. It is that God is, and MUST be, faithful to His word. And His word tells me how to act as I pray for things, and promises - PROMISES - certain things. Now I've gone over this before, and I hope y'all don't get tired of hearing it, because I don't get tired of talking about it - God expects me to pray in a certain fashion, and it's not "Thy will be done". Instead, it's "pray, believing that you've received it, and it shall be done for you". That's Mark 11:24, just for the record. "IT SHALL BE DONE FOR YOU". So, taking Him at His word, I pray, and I'm doing everything I can in the face of all of medical science to believe that I have already received it, and that my God will be faithful to His word and restore my son.

Now, you say that other people pray and they still suffer from things like SCI, and that much is true. But neither of us can effectively judge whether they pray in this fashion, or whether they believe that they've received already, or anything, for that matter. All I can tell you is that God, in order to actually BE God, MUST be true to His own word. He must! And I know He will do so. So I pray.

I think that part of the problem with faith is that I don't know Christ well enough. Take a look at Acts 3:1-8. This is a record of an act performed by an illiterate fisherman who, during the course of the previous few years had tried to usher in the earthly kingdom of God by chopping off somebody's ear with a sword, but who then had immediately run away and deserted the man he claimed he loved, then later cowered from a young girl and denied even knowing his master. This man takes one look at a crippled man and says "get up and walk", and the guy does. Not some special guru with all sorts of spiritual enlightenment, but rather Peter - ol' "foot in your mouth" Peter - speaks with power and authority from heaven. What made this fisherman into such an authority? Exposure to Christ. He didn't have any special power in himself, he only relied on Christ's power. And he knew Christ so well that he was absolutely sure that Christ would glorify Himself through Peter when he pointed his finger at that man and told him to pick up his mat. That's amazing to me.

I don't know Christ that well. Connor doesn't know Christ that well. But I believe, trusting in the word of God, that it is possible for me to know Him that well. For me - and you - to know Christ so well that our faith in Him literally moves with power in this world. It has to be able to do so, in order for God's word to be true. So I endeavor to know Christ more. Not so I can mumble some magic words and my boy will get up, but so that He is brought more glory through me, through my family, through my son. I can't imagine a better way for God to glorify Himself in this situation than to raise Connor up, so that's what I ask for.

There's another aspect of this as well - how do I pray? Do I pray with confidence, or do I pray begging and pleading for a handout? I'll ask you - how does God tell us to approach Him? Boldly, that's how. Not in repetition, but with power. Do you pray that way? Do I? I believe that I'm supposed to interact with Him. Not just do some rote recitation of my son's needs. But it's really easy to slip into repeating the same thing mindlessly. I end up not being focused on the individual I'm allegedly interacting with, and so I miss my mark of communing with Him. And when I miss my mark, am I communicating with Him?

Now that brings another question - how will I know if the answer's not "yes"? First, I believe the answer is "yes", so I'm not too worried about other possibilities. But how would I know? The only response to that is "I'll know". I'll know just the same way that I knew I was being spoken to by Him back in 1992, when I received very clear words about Connor's impact on his generation. I'll know the same way I know that last month, in a quiet moment at church, He told me to continue to wait on Him. I'll know. I continue to believe that God will heal my son. I continue to pray for his full restoration. So far, the only answer I KNOW I've received is "wait".

Which brings me hope. Why would you tell your son "wait" if you were going to answer "no" eventually? God delights to give His children good things. God works all things together for good for those who love Him.This is who He is! I may not know God well, but I know Him enough to know He is trustworthy. With the evidence laid out in front of me, how can I NOT believe Connor will walk again?

I can't wait!

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Day 484 - October 12 - The Watchman

2009-10-12T06:37:00.000-07:00

My soul waits for the Lord
more than watchmen for the morning,
more than watchmen for the morning.

- Psalm 130:6

Yesterday I read some of a post on a blog supporting another young man who is in a situation similar to Connor's, and one of his parents was writing about their disappointment that there had not been greater improvement in their son during the nine months since his accident. They went on to write about how they had really hoped to see more improvement by now, because "the closer we get to the one year mark the scarier it becomes because progress slows after 1 year". As you know, Connor is nearly 16 months post-injury. I look at this other young man and at nine months post-injury, he breathes on his own and can move his arms. If where we are right now is the best we can hope for, we are well and truly...well, let's just say that times like these make me understand the need for vulgarities.

At the age of 19, is this the end for Connor, for his hopes and dreams? Is all he has to look forward to for the rest of his life focused in a chair? Is the only variety in his life to be whether it's his mom or his dad that helps him eat the next meal?

Until Connor's accident, I stood one or two midnight shifts each week, and nearly every shift there was a period when time decided to stop moving. You'd be sitting there trying to stay awake, and take a look at the clock, and it would be, say, 0247. So you'd go back to trying to keep your eyelids open, and you'd do that for about an hour before you looked at the clock again, and the clock would say 0249. And you'd sigh, and go back to trying to stay awake, with only one thought on your mind - "come on, five o'clock", because that's when the watch would change, and you waited eagerly to hear the door open and know that your relief had gotten to work. Just a few more minutes and you could head for home.

Nothing moves. Nothing changes. Time has stopped, I'm sure of it.

I was reading over Cherié's shoulder when I read that other blog. I read the sentence about how progress "slows after one year", and I commented to my wife "Well, it depends on who you believe". Yeah, doctors will tell you that you're done after a year.

But God has told us to wait.

Wait.

"Wait".

God, this is hard.

We're waiting.

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Day 482 - October 10 - Happy Birthday, Cherié!

2009-10-10T00:03:00.000-07:00

Today marks Cherié's birthday, so I want to just let her know that we love and cherish her. She is such a blessing to our family - to myself, to Connor, and to Joélle and Alan - and she deserves far better than we give her each day.

Thank you for being such a fantastic wife, mother, nurse, and everything else you do.

Happy birthday, girl! We love you!

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Day 481 - October 9 - Me vs. God

2009-10-09T06:41:00.000-07:00

God always sees the long-term, doesn't He?

I had started blogging this morning with the thought that I had no clue what to write about. Mid-sentence, however, I had to interrupt myself to take care of some things with Connor, and now that I'm back at the computer I started over because now I have something to write about! And that something is the difference between my love for my children, and God's love for His.

I love my kids. I want the best for them. I sacrifice for them. I try to guide them in the way they should go. If I could take the hard things they go through from them, I'd do it in a heartbeat. So far, so good. All those things also describe how God loves us.

But...

When I was in Connor's room, I saw that his head was tilted kind of crooked on his pillow, in a fashion that made me think "Gee, that looks uncomfortable". So I asked him if he was comfortable, and he said "yes". So, I left him the way he was.

Pretty innocuous, right? Not really. You see, with this situation, one little thing usually leads to two or three others. Readjusting his head and neck could have woken him up (it's about 0645) when he doesn't want to be awakened. He's not usually cheerful in that situation. Moving him around when he's been sleeping in one position for a while often leads to other discomforts for him. And all of these also take time to deal with. So, rather than A) making him uncomfortable, B) facing his ire, and C) taking the time to deal with it all, I opted to justify leaving him be and not adjusting his head, and I scurried out of the room without disturbing him. Even though I think that the boy will probably have a neck ache later when he wakes up. I opted to trade a bit of discomfort and inconvenience now for the probability of greater discomfort (that somebody else could deal with, incidentally) later.

That's what I meant about God looking at the long-term. He doesn't hesitate to do really uncomfortable things to those He loves, and for most of the last 481 days I've been grumbling about "why". And the answer isn't "because He loves us", although that's true. The answer is "because He loves us, knows what the long-term result is, and is willing to do uncomfortable things now to His loved ones in order to bring about the better things later". And that highlights the difference between me and God. He's willing to sacrifice now for a better "later", while I'd rather not deal with the unpleasant now and hope that it somehow becomes alright later on. Which doesn't sound very much like "love", does it? It sounds a lot more like "selfish".

So I've concluded that I don't stack up very good next to God, which really shouldn't come as much of a surprise to you. Or me, for that matter! But at least I just went back in and took care of Connor's neck, and what do you know - it worked out fine and now he's more comfortable than he was. Funny how these things work out...

I'm exceedingly thankful that God has a plan in all this, and that His plan is good, and that His plan will result in a better outcome for Connor, for our family, for you, and for everyone it touches than the plan that would have unfolded if Connor had never gone to camp last summer.

I'm gonna try not to grumble so much in future about getting my head readjusted...

E.

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Day 478 - October 6 - Tsunami

2009-10-06T06:54:00.000-07:00

I'm sure y'all heard about the tsunami last week in the South Pacific. A big earthquake struck near Samoa, and the resulting tsunami swept across the Pacific, causing damage particularly in Samoa and American Samoa. I had the opportunity to be part of that developing story, although not in any big way, and I've been pondering one thing that happened during that situation for the last few days.

You see, the place that I work provides ATC services not only to Northern California and Nevada, but we also control all the airspace over most of the Pacific Ocean. The area in which I work controls over 18 million square miles of airspace in the Pacific, sharing boundaries with Seattle, Vancouver, and Anchorage Centers, and with facilities in Tokyo, Okinawa, the Philippines, Indonesia, Australia, Samoa, the Fiji Islands, New Zealand, Tahiti and Mexico. If you fly pretty much anywhere in the Pacific north of the Equator, you're in our airspace. I actually found an rough map of our oceanic airspace online, if you can imagine such a thing -

- so you can see how I might have gotten involved with the tsunami.

We got a notification that morning that an earthquake had occurred, and that there was a good chance of a tsunami spreading across the ocean. Now, we provide ATC services to a whole bunch of islands out there that you probably have heard of - Midway, Wake, Kwajalein, Truk, and Christmas Islands, to name a few, so our team jumped on the phones to make sure that everybody in the projected path with whom we dealt would know about it. Communications being what they are in that region, sometimes the only link of contact that exists is pretty tenuous - for example, the only way we have to contact the airport personnel at Christmas Island is that we call a phone number in Hawaii, which sets up a HF radio link with the Captain Cook Hotel on Christmas Island, an employee of which runs across the way and gets the airport guy to come talk to us. No, I'm not kidding! (Don't worry though - there's not a lot of traffic to Christmas Island!)

So, anyway, back to my story. The National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA) has put out projections for when they think the tsunami will pass each of these many islands, so we're trying to call the ones under our jurisdiction to make sure they have a heads-up, and that's when the thing that I mentioned earlier happened. We got in contact with the personnel at Wake Island and told them about the tsunami that might be headed their way, and their response was "Yeah, you're like the 20th person that's called to tell us". No "thanks", no "appreciate the call", no nothing. It was just really odd.

I've been thinking about that now for a few days, and I think I see the disconnect. You see, we believed we were helping because we called. We really were trying to help, trying to do one of the very few things you can do to help prepare for a potential tidal wave from 5000 miles away. So we called. But the guys at Wake, the guys sitting in the path of said tsunami on an island with an elevation of about 15 feet, they had a different perspective than we did. We weren't any help to them at all - just another bunch of people interfering with their preparations.

Now to be fair, we didn't have any way of knowing they already had the information. In fact, we were the ones that got the news of the tsunami to the folks at Christmas Island only 30 minutes before it was scheduled to hit (thank God it turned out to not be serious there - they had no warning at all). So we couldn't have known that Wake already knew. But the end result was "we weren't much help to them". The only way we could have been of real help to them was if we were there, on scene, lending a hand to prepare (and incidentally, sharing the danger as well).

How does this tie in to anything? Well, let me tell you!

When crisis strikes people around you - whether it is a tsunami, or a job loss, or death or sickness or God forbid a broken neck - where are you? Are you phoning from afar, wishing them well and hoping all works out for the best? Or are you on scene, lending your hands to the actual effort of dealing with the tragedy? I couldn't hop on a plane and get to Wake to help out; but what if it had been closer to home? What if the tragedy was striking the person next to me? What then? Would I make up an excuse that I didn't want to interfere or intrude? Would I find an excuse to not get my hands dirty? Would I shrink back from doing the work that would make me uncomfortable? I hope not. I hope when the time comes I will step in to actually help, instead of just offer my well wishes. And what about you? Are you thinking about this? What is your response when the people you know meet crisis and tragedy?

Before you get the wrong idea, I'm not talking about us, or your response to our situation, or anything like that. This isn't coming from a sense that anyone's not helped us personally - it's coming from that situation last week, and the questions in my head and my heart since then. I'm just challenged by the question of how I respond to the things that happen around me, and quite honestly, I fall short a lot of the time. I don't like being uncomfortable, and stepping into crisis with someone is often uncomfortable. So, no thrown stones from me. But maybe just a word of encouragement - to think ahead of time about how you'll respond when the emergency arises.

Because when it does, you'll base your actions on what you have previously decided to do. And I'm hoping that you will step into that gap for the folks around you and fill their point of need. Christ would - will you and I?

OK, enough preaching. Connor had a rough day yesterday. He's struggling with different kinds of pain in his body, along with various medical problems that I won't go into right now. I would ask that you continue to lift him up. He's having a rough go of it this week.

God knows what he needs. Thanks for staying with us.

E.

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Day 477 - October 5 - Happy Birthday, Joélle!

2009-10-05T00:04:00.000-07:00

Happy birthday, daughter!

Today, Connor's big sister turns 21. Just wanted to acknowledge how important she is to our family, even when she's married and living in Chicago. We love and miss her immensely!

So have a great day, The Bean! We love ya!

Pops

PS - These were taken a short while before she turned 21...

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Day 476 - October 4 - Just keep swimming...

2009-10-04T07:31:00.000-07:00

Hey, did y'all see Brad's thread in the Forum? He posted a discussion (in four parts) in the "Understanding Scripture" category on the Forum page, and it develops some more thoughts from the "Deep Water" blog I posted the other day. You might be interested in checking it out, and bringing your insights and questions into the discussion. Take a look!

Connor is taking a down day today - he asked last night if we could all just snuggle down inside and take a relaxing day off. We kicked it around and decided that we would do that. We're gonna get the day going with some good worship music, and I think we'll go over Psalm 40 together before we settle down to homemade soup, football, motorcycle racing and movies. Lots to do this afternoon... 8-)

He's been sleeping better this week, although he had one tough night Friday. Muscle spasms and pain kept him awake, but fortunately he's resting better now.

Words really can't explain how much we appreciate each of you and your continued support for us. We absolutely covet the prayers of the saints as they not only lift us up day to day, but also continue to believe with us for Connor's restoration. "Thank you" doesn't begin to cover it, but "thank you" from the bottom of our hearts.

God bless,

E.

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Day 473 - October 1 - Deep Water

2009-10-01T06:49:00.000-07:00

Cherié told me something the other day that a friend had said to her, and it got me thinking. This friend had told Cherié that she didn't want to go into the troubles she was facing at home, because compared to ours they were so minor.

Now, I object to that on a bunch of different levels. First, we are faced with our troubles day in and day out. Sometimes it's really quite a break to be able to not face them for a few minutes, even if it's just to hear of someone else's. Second, we're supposed to help carry each other's burdens - how can we do that if nobody tells us what they are? Finally, while there are certainly different scales or sizes of the trials that come our way (broken lamp vs. broken car vs. broken marriage vs. broken neck, for example), I think there are really only two categories of troubles, when it comes down to it - the troubles you can handle, and the troubles you can't. All the other differentiations don't really mean much. Yeah, a broken car is bigger than a broken lamp, but you can deal with both of them. Buy a new lamp. Call AAA. Those are manageable things. The big ones, like this one we are going through, are the ones that draw peoples' attention. They're also the ones that you can't handle.

So basically, it's a lot like swimming. When you're in the water, you can either touch the bottom or you can't. If you can, then you can pretty much stay in the water as long as you like. Once you're out in deep water, though, your resources become much more limited. Dealing with Connor's situation is a big problem; and I at least would say it's bigger than, say, losing a job or having difficulties in a marriage. But those are big problems all own their own to those who are going through it, and going through them must be a difficult thing. Those, like ours, fall into my "can't handle them" category.

So what I guess I'm trying to say this morning is this - if the water is over your head, it doesn't really matter how deep it is. Deep is deep is deep - you're in as much trouble in ten feet of water as you are in 1000. And just like when you're in deep water, there's really only one thing you need when you're in deep trials - you need a Lifeguard. Someone with massive skills and resources you don't have to rescue you from a situation that you can't handle. Sure, you can swim for a while in deep water, trusting on your own strength. But what happens when your strength fails you? What happens when you tire out? That's why we use what little strength we have to cling with all our might to the strong chest of Jesus Christ, the person who is made strong in our weakness.

So whether you think your own trials are massive or puny, there's a Lifeguard ready and willing to save you out there in the deep water; able to watch and care for you when you can stand in the shallows. He will carry you and your burdens if you let Him.

Connor is sleeping much better these days, thanks to your intervention for him. Last night we did have to struggle with his body temperature, after he went hypothermic and his temp dropped to 94.4 F. Fortunately we were able to get it back up again with a liberal application of warmed sheets and electric blankets. Thanks, Lord, for technology to make some things manageable, and for people who care enough to keep praying for us. Bless them and hear their prayers, Lord. Hear the cries of Your people.

Oh, and can we go back to shore now, Lord? I don't like deep water.

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Day 470 - September 28 - Longing

2009-09-28T06:42:00.000-07:00

A friend posted a question on an earlier post (the "Captain Bligh" one), and I thought that it was a good enough to try and answer publicly, plus I didn't know if everyone would see it, so here it is! She asked if our situation "makes you look forward to heaven more? No more crying, no more pain, no more tears?"

There's only one very simple answer to that, and it's "yes". We're done - tired of the whole thing, ready to be finished, excited about the prospect of not having this heart agony tainting everything in our life. I think that what we feel in this situation has given us an understanding of what the Bible means when it refers to things that dry up your bones. That's this. So we feel alot like the guy who has put in 30 years with the company - he's ready to retire and take his pension. We're ready as soon as The Boss cuts us loose.

And no, I don't mean Bruce Springsteen! I meant "THE Boss", not "the Boss"...

Until then, we have a better understanding than we ever wanted of the phrase "Lord, come quickly". I KNOW that Connor will be running and leaping and praising God when we're with Christ in heaven, so that's a sure thing we look forward to. We pray to see it sooner than that, but that's sort of our "fallback position", if you will.

Connor has spent the last two nights much more restfully - your prayers have helped so much! Thank you! We also got him a different pillow to try to support his neck in a different way, and that seems to be helping too. Hopefully we've put this nightly neck pain situation behind us!

Well, I've got to get to work, so I'll cut this short. Thank you so much for your faithfulness as you travel along with us. We covet your prayers so much, and we really, really, appreciate you.

God bless you,

E.

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Day 468 - September 26 - No Better

2009-09-26T08:13:00.000-07:00

Well, it doesn't seem that we have any impact on battling Connor's pain and saturation issues. They'll get less for a few days, but then they're right back again. Last night, and for the past few nights, Connor just can't sleep unless we give him a lot of meds to get him there. His neck will be in almost agonizing pain, where no amount of ice, massage, and readjustment of his head will help. We try stretching his muscles, we try shifting his position, and nothing helps. This morning at 0400, while we were trying to help him get even a little bit comfortable, he said "I can't do this pain every night". But nothing we do makes it better. Please be praying about this for him - we're having to give him very large doses of his medications just to get through the nights.

It's weird - during the day he's usually alright - it's just at night that he has these issues. So on top of the actual situation, we all get shorter and shorter and shorter with each other as our tiredness level rises, and that makes it even more difficult.

How long, Lord? How long?

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Day 465 - September 23 - Adrift with Captain Bligh

2009-09-23T06:10:00.000-07:00

Everybody knows the story of the mutiny on the Bounty - Captain Bligh's tyrannical command forces Master's Mate Fletcher Christian to rebel and take the ship, sailing off to Tahiti and casting the loyal few adrift. Setting aside for a moment the questionable parts of the story (Bligh wasn't the tyrant Hollywood has painted him to be - big surprise), there's an incredible part of that story that is often overlooked. Like is often the case, truth is more amazing than fiction...

After the mutiny, Christian put Bligh and 18 of the loyal crew into a small boat called a launch. The launch was 23 feet long, and loaded with a few days' worth of food and water. Bligh (did you know he was really only a Lieutenant? His was only an acting command; he was rated Master and Commander at the time, and "Captain" was only his courtesy title) was given a sextant and a watch, but no maps or charts. The boat was so fully loaded that the gunwales were just inches above water when the Bounty sailed away and left them to their fate. The incredible part of the story is what happened next. Bligh took the demoralized remains of his crew (men who had just lost their ship and been left to die on the far side of the world; who had very little food or water; and who had no real purpose any longer, their ship and livelihood having been taken from them) and set out to survive. After losing one man to attacking natives when he landed on an island to try to obtain more food, Bligh decided it was too dangerous to risk land. So, armed with his sextant and pocket watch, he decided that the only safe place they could go was the nearest European outpost, and after 47 days, he and his remaining men arrived safely on the island of Timor, a journey of just over 3600 miles! Bligh had taken an open boat and 17 starving men on a daring voyage across half the Pacific ocean, and he did it successfully. Wow.

Now, I've been putting myself into the position of one of Bligh's crew on that voyage. Can you imagine what it would be like to be sitting in that open boat? The tropical sun is beating down on your back. There's not enough food, not enough water. There's no map. You don't know where you are, you don't know where you're going. You don't even know if you're really going anywhere. You're just an able seaman - you aren't educated, you aren't in charge, and all you've got is a commander who also doesn't have a map. If I remember correctly, sitting in a rowboat puts the horizon roughly three or four miles away; so not only are you stuck in the middle of the biggest body of water on the planet in a rowboat, but you also can't see anything unless you stumble directly into it.

Now, your commander decides that it's time to set sail and take off on a 3600-mile journey, through shark-infested waters and past cannibal-ridden islands, with little food and water. And how's he going to get you there? "Oh, don't worry - I've got a sextant and a watch," says he; "I know just where we're going!" If somebody tried to pull that one on me, I'd say "sorry mate - I'l try my luck on that island over there. I don't want to go on the long, desperate sea-voyage, thank you very much". Wouldn't you?

You know what the Captain would say? "Hey, sonny - you're in the Navy, bub. So grab that oar and start rowing!" That's what he'd say. And then you'd have a choice - do you sit in the bottom of the boat and whine about how you don't want to go on the journey, and make the rest of the crew do your work for you while you eat up precious resources? Or do you throw your back into the work of getting your part of the task done well so you can get to the destination in one piece and as soon as possible?

I guess it depends on a few things. First, do you trust your Captain? Do you believe he knows what he's doing, even when it looks like all he's got is a sextant, a watch, and a guess or two? Second, what's your attitude? Do you think you've been cast adrift, left to float until the boat capsizes, or do you think that being in this tiny boat in the middle of the ocean means you've got a new purpose and destination?

Now, I don't think the records say anything about it, but I bet that there were some men in Captain Bligh's boat who helped him get that monumental task done. I bet there were crew members who encouraged, cajoled, and helped other guys tough it out in that boat. I bet there was at least one guy with him in that nightmare who Bligh felt he couldn't have done it without.

And I bet that guy, at least once on that hellish voyage, thought to himself "We are so lost. We're never gonna get there. We're all gonna die". Then he took a look at his Captain, squared his shoulders, took a deep breath, and got back to work. No idea where he was going. No idea when they would get there. But ready to die trying to make the Captain's plan work.

So I guess the question is - do I trust my Captain?

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Day 463 - September 21 - Exciting, Depressing, and Frustrating - All at the same time

2009-09-21T06:19:00.000-07:00

First, "thank you" to all who have made their knowledge available to us concerning the fabrication issues - we are already in discussion with a friend here in town who has stepped up to offer his services. We'll be getting together with him this week to start the process! But you can also bet that I've kept track of all the names of everyone who offered, and I'll come a'runnin' if I need to! Thanks again for so many generous offers.

Yesterday, for the very first time since June 16, 2008, I clearly sensed that I received an answer to the continuous cry of my heart, Connor's complete and full restoration! If you've been here for long, you know that we continue to believe that Connor will get out of that chair again, and that God will see fit to set him upright once again - fully, completely, whole. And over the last 15 months, much has happened - our faith has been challenged, it has ebbed and flowed, we've been asked how we'll know, and it's been suggested that the answer to our prayer is "no", but we are just refusing to hear it. In addition to all that, our own belief has been stressed, tested, challenged, dragged down, picked back up again - in short, I think we've gone through just about every emotion you can go through when it comes to hoping for something. And this entire time I have never once felt that my prayers were even heard, much less answered, and much more less answered the way I desire to see them answered. So what happened yesterday?

I got up yesterday morning with the intent that we would go to church. So of course, the morning had its difficult moments, but we got through them and headed off, and all the while I was under this sense that Connor's accident and situation was all my fault. You see, last year when Connor decided to go to camp, I felt he was really going only because his girlfriend was going, and he wanted to go to. I wanted Connor to go to camp for a better reason than that, and I almost told him he couldn't go, but I didn't say anything. And yesterday I was feeling oppressed by the thought that if I'd just spoken my mind and "been a better spiritual leader in my home" (how's that for twisting a good thing into a lie?), this whole situation would never have happened. Now sure, sitting here and reading this, you think "how could he think that? Doesn't he know that God is in control, and that this situation has happened for His glory?" And the answer is "Yes" - I know that. But it's different when you're being oppressed by those thoughts, especially when the morning he left for camp, I came together with Cherié and prayed that this camp would be a life-changing event for Connor. So yes, even though I know that God controls all things, I often still feel responsible for Connor's situation.

Anyway, that's how I was feeling when we got to church yesterday, and my spirit sank further as we sang "How Great is our God", to the point where I had to choose to continue singing even though I didn't see Him do any of the things the song said He did, even though He didn't seem great because He didn't answer our prayers. I felt like if I chose to stop singing, it would be a choice to quit believing. But I sang the song through, and guess what happened. Nothing. No heavenly angels singing around me, no bright light blasting into our lives, nothing.

So, when we had finished singing, that's usually the time that they make available for people who want prayer to come down to the altar and somebody will pray for them, but yesterday they did it different and just said "if you want prayer, raise your hand, and then somebody near you will come pray with you". I was so washed up, I didn't even raise my hand, even though we've got a lot of things that need praying for. But surprise - as I'm sitting with my hand on Connor's, just silently screaming out the cry of my heart to God, suddenly the pastor is there with the boy, and he begins to pray.

Now, I'm just praying along, not really engaged with the two of them but just praying in my head - praying to the same silent, unanswering God I've been praying to for the last 15 months, and as I do, a verse comes into my head. It's a verse I've heard a million times since June last year. It's a verse y'all know well, and it's a verse that has helped us over rough spots in the past. But this time, it wasn't just a verse - this time, there was a sense that it was being spoken into me; that at that spot, in that moment, the words were a response to my words like in the middle of a conversation. You know how when two people are talking, and you say something and the other person responds, and it's the most natural thing in the world? So natural that you almost overlook it because it just fits into the conversation so smoothly that it's just 'right'? Well, this was like that. Not a big divine revelation, but a conversation.

I wish I had the language to describe this stuff - English doesn't have words for what I'm trying to describe - the words I have to use are so limited. I guess what I'm trying to say is that this time, hearing this verse this time - I knew it as an answer instead of just hearing the words. And I knew it in a slightly different sense than I've heard this verse before. I don't believe I put this meaning into it, I just received it the way I received it. It was strange and I am really having a hard time describing it.

So what was the verse, already!!! What was this "answer"? Well, for the first time in 15 months, I believe that God responded to my prayer. I believe that God spoke to me through His word, in my head, yesterday morning at church. And what I believe He said to me was written down by Isaiah a long, long time ago -

They who wait for the LORD shall renew their strength;
they shall mount up with wings like eagles;
they shall run and not be weary;
they shall walk and not faint.

God didn't say "no". He didn't say "yes".

But He did say "wait".

He also said "they shall walk and not faint".

Just so you know, in ATC the word "shall" is an imperative, meaning "required to do". If we say a controller "shall" do something, that means he or she has to do it - it's required. For 25 years the word "shall" has meant "it's required and will happen" to me.

They shall walk and not faint.

Please pray for us as we wait. Maybe wait with us for a while, too. That would help.

Love y'all,

E.

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