Day 19 - July 4 - Advance!

I went to sleep last night, confident in the provision of my Lord. I awoke this morning at 0500 in terror, thinking that all along I had been praying for Connor to be removed from the respirator, and realizing that there are two ways he could come off a respirator and that I hadn't been specific in my requests. I was assailed with the idea that there was no way Connor's lungs and nerves could keep him breathing off of the ventilator, and that I was going to be forced to choose whether to sustain Connor's life with the use of a machine or let him slowly suffocate because his lungs couldn't support him. I was tormented by the fact that Connor could not sustain his breathing more than a few days after the accident without the help of a machine, and it was easy to paint the grim picture of the future my mind was laying out for me. I began praying in earnest against this lie, but after nearly two hours of desperate prayer I was exhausted, dragging myself out of bed with these ideas and images lurking in the back of my mind.

I spent my breakfast reading from Job and Matthew, neither of which were much comfort. I identified with Peter as I read about Jesus walking on the water, and Peter being bold enough to step out onto the stormy water but then faltering and beginning to sink. I can feel the stormy water shifting beneath my feet, and hear the wind blowing in my ears, and my eyes turn away from the Lord and onto my circumstances. And Jesus speaks, almost disappointedly, "Oh, you of little faith - why do you doubt?"

Now I'm at the hospital, having seen the boy for an hour, and reading some selected excerpts from the blog to encourage his spirit and lift him up. His numbers are the same as yesterday, he's doing well, and he still feels nothing below his neck. I find myself in a waiting mode, almost content to take a breath and let down my guard. But I have a good, faithful friend who did two tours in-country in Viet Nam, and I recognize from his stories that this moment isn't R and R - it's that pause in the jungle when you realize you're surrounded by the enemy, you're miles from base, and all you've got is your squad and the ammo on your back. You can't see any enemy, there's no noise, and it's very tempting to think that you can sit down and rest. The only problem is that it's not true - the longer you stand still, the more of a stationary target you are. Moving may bring attention to you from the bad guys, but it also gives you the initiative and momentum. Sitting still means you have to react to whatever the enemy decides to throw at you - moving lets you decide what you're going to throw at the enemy.

So I say this is NOT a time of waiting. Despite the steady numbers, and the mostly stable situation, now is the time to advance boldly. Don't get me wrong - we're all exhausted. But I believe now is the time for God's prayer warriors to storm the very gates of Hell in bold proclamation of God's provision for Connor. I will not wait and respond in panic when the enemy throws another thing at me. I will not cower in fear of what may come tomorrow. Instead, I will take that step forward, knowing that there are going to be snipers, and booby-traps, and enemy waiting in ambush along the way. But I am NOT going to sit still and let the enemy bring the fight to me - I will carry it to him instead.

Lord, I claim Your protection and healing for my son. I trust that You know where we're going, even if I don't. I will follow You into the jungle, confident that I've got the best Point Man possible.

Team, advance with us in prayer...