Day 503 - October 31 - A Psalm of Eric

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

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?

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

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

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

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?

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

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!

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

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

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!

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...

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

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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