Day 18 - July 3 - Manna from heaven

We awoke this morning wrestling with a lie - that somehow, if we had only made better choices when this expedition began, Connor would be in a better condition. We fought with the idea that OUR choices have put Connor where he is. While we understand that this is a lie from the pit, it can be a very seductive lie. Cherié and I wrestled with it for a bit, praying that we would understand the truth. Afterward, I quickly checked the blog to see any comments that had been made, and God used the posts this morning to whisper peace and hope into my spirit. Thank you all for your continued comments, prayers, verses, and songs - I don't have the words to explain how much they mean to us.

So - we went to Connor's bedside during his hour on his back. First the physical - the nurse told us that Connor is progressing much faster than the doctors expected! He's not quite ready to get off the bed, but they're lowering the pressure on the respirator to see how he adapts to the lower pressures. They will still be slowly lowering the O2 levels, but right now they're looking at the pressure numbers.

Now the other stuff. Connor and I talked together for about 45 minutes about what's going on. First I told him about all the people praying for him around the globe (somebody add Poland to the list!). I told him how that meant that at every moment of every day and every night, somewhere on the earth, there are saints lifting up Connor before the throne of God. Then I told him about the many, many people who are being blessed by the work God is doing through Connor - the folks through the blog; the nurses and doctors that are following his story; the Christians whose faith is being strengthened; the non-believers who are being drawn closer to Christ through this event. Connor's eyebrows kept going up and up!

Then, it got really cool. I was speaking to him from about six inches from his face, when the words that poured out of my mouth ceased to be directed by me. I don't claim that God was speaking through me, but I do believe that the Holy Spirit put the words there. Connor was locked onto what I was saying - not drowsy, not sedated, but just gripped by what God was speaking out of my mouth. I told Connor how I was absolutely convinced that God was doing a mighty work through him. I also told him about the spirit of oppression and despair that I sensed all over this hospital, and I told him that we were coming against this in Jesus' name in order to protect Connor. I told him that we had prayer warriors who were praying protection for him, and that I was praying for God to place angels around Connor's bed for his protection in this battle. Connor's eyes went up a bit at that point, so I told him what Tod had said about angels - "I don't have none of those little baby angels who shoot arrows into your butt! I've got Marine angels! My angels are ripped, they've got brush cuts, and if they weren't carrying swords they'd be carrying M16s! That's my kind of angel!" Connor grinned as I reminded him of the first words out of their mouths every single time an angel appears in the Bible - "Do not be afraid"! I told him why that is - because they're so frightening that they make you wet yourself when they show up! Connor really liked that, and I reminded him that THOSE guys were the ones that God was using for Connor's protection, not those little baby angels who shoot arrows in your butt!

I also told him that the Bible calls them "ministering spirits". To me, that means since they're warriors first, but they also minister, that makes them sort of "spiritual medics" - guys who can fight, but can also take care of their wards in the midst of the firefight. Connor really liked that image.

Then I told him the story of Elisha's servant in 2 Kings 6, where God opens the servant's eyes to see the forces gathered around. I told Connor I was praying the God would let Connor have a glimpse of his unseen help, and that maybe one night he would open his eyes to see a great big, Marine-looking guy with wings out of his back, standing there with drawn sword, who would turn around and see Connor looking at him and say "Got your back, bud. Hold fast."

I don't know why I felt compelled to tell you that story, except that it was an uplifting, encouraging time with my son, and we parted with the assurance that in the midst of this very difficult trial, God walks with us and upholds us with His strong right hand.