Day 576 - January 12 - Daniel 10

The thought of writing on this subject originally came to me over a year ago, and the fact that the first title of this post was "Day 179" and was saved on December 10, 2008, tells you that it's been fermenting in my brain for a bit! I've come back to it now and again, but it never gelled the right way. So, having been referred to the passage again this week, I'm trying again...

Waiting. It seems we do a lot of that right now. It seems that's all we do; day in, day out, no matter the routine, we wait. I guess it's not entirely true - waiting isn't all we do. We also doubt, and pray, and cry, and question, and wonder where God is, and hope, and console each other, and try to be encouraged, and - well, you get the idea. It's been 576 days since our cry first went up to God for Connor's healing, and here we are, waiting.

Some people say that we should just accept our fate and deal with it. Their implication is that Connor will never be well again until Jesus returns.

Other people say that they personally are convinced by God - that they know - that they're going to see Connor walk, and run, and leap, again in this lifetime.

And in the middle of it is me, who has not been given any certainty about it, either way. It seems that I'm to be given the task of trusting God's word about this for an indefinable period of time. A period of time that, I can tell you, is a minimum of 576 days long, and which (if I believe the first group) will stretch months and years into the future, or (if I believe the second group) can end today.

Now, I can't explain any of God's reasons for working this work. All I know is that it's a good plan, since according to Psalm 25:10, "All the paths of the Lord are steadfast love and faithfulness". So what does it mean that we continue to wait?

Well, I'm convinced that God has some special purpose for Connor for which this time and situation are critical. I'm also convinced that His plan meets with disapproval from a certain common enemy, if you get my drift. Allow me to tell you a story -

Back in the day, the prophet Daniel was mourning, fasting and praying for three weeks. This story is told in Daniel 10, BTW. At the end of those three weeks, he was taking a walk by the Tigris river when a vision came on him (interestingly, the vision didn't appear to the people with Daniel - they were filled with a sense of dread and ran away, so they didn't see it). In the vision, an angel appeared to Daniel and said a very interesting thing. In Daniel 10:12-14, the angel tells Daniel that from the first day he began to pray, God heard him, and sent this angel to Daniel. But then he tells Daniel that he (the angel) was delayed by "the princes of Persia" for 21 days, until Michael the archangel came along and cleared the way for this other angel to make it to Daniel to convey his message.

So, if I've got this straight...

1 - Daniel starts praying and fasting.
2 - God hears Daniel's prayers immediately.
3 - God immediately dispatches an angel to take a message to Daniel in response to his prayer.
4 - A spiritual delaying tactic is employed against the angel by "the princes of Persia", which I take it means satanic forces in this context.
5 - After 21 days, the archangel Michael show up to help get the messenger past the enemy and to his objective.
6 - The angelic messenger arrives and delivers his message.

So, two things - first, there are greater things going on around us than we can see, sense, or even imagine. And second, what was Daniel thinking on day 20? Was he wondering if God even heard him? Was he oh-so-patiently waiting for God's response? Did he doubt how effective his prayer and fasting was?

I don't know. I know I've thought all those things, and more, over the last 576 days. But it turned out that God not only heard on Day 1, He answered on Day 1. Daniel was just waiting to see something that had already happened. He was waiting to receive a gift that had already been given. He was trusting that he had received a word from God 21 days ago.

Which reminds me of a different passage -

"Therefore I tell you, whatever you ask in prayer, believe that you've received it, and it will be yours."
- Jesus, Mark 11:24.

Keep believing. Keep praying. He WILL answer.

E.

----------------------------------------
Print This Page

Day 81 - September 4 - Server Outage!

As agent Maxwell Smart used to say, "Sorry about that, Chief!"

My apologies for your inability to connect with ConnorWatch for the last few hours. We have been experiencing serious difficulties with our servers out at the ol' server farm - not ConnorWatch related, but affecting the server that drives ConnorWatch and six of our other sites. Providentially, we have a crack team of technicians on the problem, and ConnorWatch actually came back on line while I was on the phone with them trying to get a status report.

The bad news - we may intermittently lose access to ConnorWatch as we wait to confirm that the problem has been corrected. We think it is fixed, but you don't know until you know.

Be patient - there's a lesson in here somewhere for us. If you see ConnorWatch down, don't be afraid to send an email to admin (at) connorwatch.org and see if you can catch me sleeping.

Brad

Michigan

----------------------------------------
Print This Page

DAY 44 - JULY 29 - Vaya Con Dios!

Well, my time in California has come to a close. I was so hoping to be here to see a miracle... an amazing act of God. I've thought all along how cool it would be to be here when Connor "picks up his mat and walks." It hasn't happened yet.

It's been an amazing week. In many ways I feel like a kid again... I've been walking this week holding Eric's hand with one of mine and holding onto God's hand with the other. And occasionally they'd both lift me and swing me and I'd get to fly along for the ride. It's been amazing!

We've had laughter, tears, joy, sorrow, love, grief, etc., etc. But now the time has come for me to fly back home to my six kids and my beautiful wife in Virginia.

So I've been scratching my brain trying to come up with something brilliant to say to my brother and his family. Something that would stick with them, that would help carry them, that would lift them when they are down and would encourage them to press on. And for whatever reason, the only thing that comes to me are three little Spanish words, so here they are...

Eric... Vaya con Dios!

Go with God! You've done this most of your life, but the last 43 days have been the hardest. I love you... I grieve with you... My heart aches with yours... I will rejoice with you throughout this journey...

Vaya con Dios, Hombre!

Vaya con Dios!

Kent
Catching the 6AM Flight to Dulles via Denver

Day 35 - July 20 - Good mood

After my post this morning, we loaded up the car and headed off to church. We were lifted and blessed there, then came back to the hospital to see the boy and relieve Granny from her self-imposed vigil in Connor's room. When we got there, our nurse stopped us on the way in to tell us what a great mood Connor had been in all morning. We watched her interact with the boy, lifting his spirits and encouraging him. She had even chosen and worn brightly colored clothes to cheer the boy and lift his spirits. It was fantastic to see such a professional fill her job with such genuine compassion. She was great with him! Thanks, Lord, for giving the boy such great caregivers. That is certainly an answer to prayer.

Connor had a great night, with no incidents with his heart whatsoever. His lungs seem to be responding to the bed, and the RT has seen steady improvement in the state of his lungs and blood gases. He rested well and awoke cheery and in a good mood. His numbers remain good, and the therapists are slowly lowering the O2 percentage as his lungs improve. He's currently at 60%.

He has developed one minor complication that the nurses are addressing. Because of the movement of the beds over the last few weeks, his trach has developed a tear caused by the trach tube rubbing against one side of the trach. They are taking care of it now, but it's still a complication as well as a point of introduction for infection. Please add that to my (seemingly never-ending) list of prayer requests to lift up!

Finally, an interesting blessing. I was speaking with Connor about the bed, and I told him I was sorry he had to be back on the rotisserie. His response? "This bed is more comfortable than the regular bed".

Say what? Turns out he likes being flat on his back, even on the Tilt-o-Bed, more than he likes being propped up in the regular bed.

He'd better not get used to it!

Day 35 - July 20 - Rain?

Rain? In Fresno in July?

As I sit under the awning this morning, rain is falling. Not a lot, but still, it's weird. While the Gramma's cover the hospital detail to give us a few hours before church this morning, I thought I'd share the rest of my "OK, I get it, Lord!" morning.

Remember how I've been discussing thinking about other people instead of my own troubles? Well, I got up this morning and opened the Word to 2 Corinthians 1. Go check out verses 3-11.

Then I opened a devotional book we've been reading. July 2oth's entry? "Sharing the Manna".

I shared with Cherié and Granny my perception that, in moving downstairs to the First floor waiting room, we had isolated ourselves and were only focusing on our own troubles, which in turn was bringing us down. We aren't called to despair over our problems, but to reach out to others in the midst of theirs. I've been failing to do this, averting my eyes to avoid eye contact "because I'm too tired/frustrated/exhausted/whatever to deal with his/her/their issues". What a cop-out.

Pray for the boy today, for his healing and for his continued health. And pray for us, that we would be the hands and feet of Christ to the people around us.

We love y'all. More later.

Day 34 - July 19 - What a day

Well, it's been a full day. First, Connor is back in the roto-rest bed, which is the one that rocks back and forth, but not upside down. He's a bit disheartened to be there again. I told him this isn't a step backward, but rather the next hurdle in the race. Many of the hurdles will look the same - but we'd rather not have to jump over them at all.

Second, the boy crashed twice today, both time with his heart beat dropping to zero. He recovered on his own immediately without drugs or other intervention, but again, this is something we'd rather not do at all. It seems to be the same issue he had before, with his congested lungs causing the nerve that drives the heart to become irritated.

Please continue to pray for Connor - for healing from the pneumonia; for clear lungs; for a steady heart; and, as I recognized today, a working diaphragm. I realized that I had been praying for his lungs to work, but what I was meaning was that he would have control and function in his diaphragm in order to pump his lungs. I know the Holy Spirit interprets for me, but still...

A strange thing happened to me today as well. I was talking to Brad yesterday about trying to get less focused on me and my problems, and more on the people around me. I had told Joélle that I thought I performed better when I was helping other people instead of thinking about myself, and she gave me that "Well, duh!" look, so I'd been giving that some thought. Well, tonight, I was in Connor's room alone, while Cherié ran over to the hotel room to grab a shower. Connor was asleep, and I was trying to be still and know that He is God. I even went so far as to pray that the boy would stay sleeping so that I could focus on being still and not be distracted by anything. I found I couldn't sit still, but that walking slowly back and forth in the room helped me quiet my soul to listen. What I found wasn't anything earth-shattering, but rather a sense that I should prostrate myself before the Lord. I thought "well, I can't do that, people will see me". Then I thought "Would you do it if it meant Connor would walk again?"

"Of course", thinks I, "but it doesn't mean that."

"How do you know?", I shot back smartly.

"Oh, come on - but I'll do it." Then craftily I add, "I'll just draw this curtain here so people can't see in..."

I'm too smart for that one - "Nuh uh uh! That's not what you're supposed to do."

"Well OK, I'll at least kneel." There. That's a pretty good compromise.

So I knelt by the boy's bed, in full view of anybody that wanted to look into the room. And I prayed. Emptily, as it turns out.

Now keep in mind that this is all pretty much just a conversation in my head. But finally I can't take it, and I say "Alright, I will." And I lie down on my belly, face to the floor, arms spread out wide, completely visible from the nurse's station if anybody cares to look.

I say "Here I am, Lord. What do you want from me?"

And the thought enters my head - "Obedience".

Shortly thereafter, Cherié shows up and tells me that the Gramma's are going to revolt unless I go to the hotel and take my own shower (which I guess shows how intelligent Grammas can be...). So as I ride down the elevator, I'm prompted to pray with the three weeping people in the elevator with me. I ask them if it would be OK, and they say yes - so we pray together for comfort and hope after the passing of their mother/grandmother. Then I go take my shower.

Now I come back to the hospital, and oddly enough, I have a new perspective on things. I am suddenly confident in the Lord's provision; I know that He is providing for us regardless of outcome; and I am able to encourage my wife, testify in word and carriage to the staff, and pray with and lift up some of the others in the waiting room on our way back to the tenement on wheels.

Without any doubt whatsoever, I am absolutely and categorically unable to create the mental change necessary to do those things on my own. Has someone around here been praying for a miracle? If you guys can pray an attitudinal change like that into me, would you please aim at my son's healing next?

8-)

Day 33 - July 18 - Pneumoni-again

We've just gotten back to the tenement after getting the boy to sleep. His white count is about three times what it should be, although he doesn't have a fever. The RTs are working to keep his lungs clear, but his most recent chest X-rays show that Connor's lungs are blooming again. I heard one RT say that they will have to decide within about 24 hours whether to put him back on the roto-rest bed.

We really don't want that to happen to the boy again. Would you please pray diligently that he be spared another round on the Tilt-o-Beds and that the pneumonia would be gotten under control without those measures?

I also wanted to quickly mention the wonderful RT we had tonight, and the encouragement she brought to us with her compassion and prayers. God blessed us with her great smile, her willing prayers, and her desire to find out more about Connor's story. Thank you, Lord.

Exhaustion sets in. Please lift up the boy for us. We love you.

Goodnight.

Day 33 - July 18 - More needs

Connor appears to be in the throes of pneumonia again. His white count has skyrocketed, they have started him on antibiotics again, and they've placed his respirator back on the old settings at 100% O2 in order to try to catch it before they have to put him on the beds again.

Connor is dispirited by the prospect of getting back on the beds. Please pray for his deliverance from them.

Day 32 - July 17 - Resting?

Connor had a bundle of visitors yesterday, along with at least three procedures as they removed two arterial lines and changed him to a smaller trach. He is exhausted by all the activity and has been sleeping steadily since last night, and we're letting him rest. The speech pathologist hopes to work on installing a voice valve in his trach pretty soon - maybe even tomorrow. It will be great for the boy to be able to communicate with us completely. Of course, that news is tempered by the nurse explaining (again) how Connor's lungs aren't doing anything but what the respirator does, and (again) expressing her conviction that he will never do anything else because of the level of his injury.

Additionally, since he's been running a fever, they ran some cultures, and his white blood count has doubled. They've started antibiotics again, and it appears he's got pneumonia again. Please pray for him, that he can defeat this pneumonia before he has to return to the beds.

I've heard an earful this month about how great it is to "rest in the arms of Jesus", or some variation of it. Usually, it's well-meaning people trying to encourage us, but I've read of the concept in the words of notable authors like Samuel Rutherford as well. Well, all I can say about the notion is that they are either lying, or I must be doing it wrong. After a month of this torture, I have no conception of rest - I feel like I have spent every waking moment since June 16 in a perpetual struggle to maintain my sanity and the cohesiveness of my family, without respite, without relaxation, without hope.

This morning I awoke in the RV in a state of lockdown after a night of benadryl-induced half-sleep. I lay in the fetal position, unable to do anything except cry out "God help us, God help us" through my tears. After a bit, my sensible wife (along with some mental gymnastics) got me moving, and we got our day started. I limped through my morning until my daughter asked me to walk her to McDonald's to get some sweet tea. I'm astonished at how dense I am, that I don't see through her little schemes!

Now, remember when I told you how much more mature my kids are than I am? Well, we got our tea and she said we should sit and talk for a bit before we went back to the hospital. Then she asked me how I was doing, and we talked for a bit about my fears and concerns. Finally, she told me she needed to tell me something, and said "This isn't about you. It's not about Connor, it's not about us - it's about something much bigger. Connor knows about one person - one person! - who's life has been changed by what he's going through, and he says it's worth it. He doesn't even know all the impacts God is making in so many lives, but he has decided that this price is worth the gain. So try looking at something other than how all this impacts you, and try to look at what God is doing through it instead."

Well, I thought about it. I thought about how my fears and concerns really revolve around how all this impacts me, not Connor. I thought about how the things that upset me most were things that changed all the plans I had laid out for my future. And I realized that what Joélle was saying was true - I was looking at all this from the perspective of how it impacted me personally. I was really being selfish in this. What makes it even worse is how Connor is taking this - with a gracious confidence that God is using him to accomplish great things, and being able to sincerely feel that the price paid is worth the gain accomplished. It humbles me to be this boy's father, and I daily thank God for the man He has raised Connor up to be in spite of me.

So now I'm working on repenting from my selfish attitude, and trying to get on board this new train God has fired up for my family. Like my daughter (the wise one) said, God chose exactly the right person - Connor - for his role. A strong young man with confidence in his God, the will to succeed or die trying, and the endurance to run the race set before him. God has also set aside my family to achieve a specific reason, and although I don't feel up to the task, Joélle reminds me that His timing is perfect - and that it's pretty obvious that God thinks we're ready to face this challenge.

I don't know what the future holds - and that scares the tarnation out of me. I don't know what God has planned for Connor, for my family, or for me. The only true thing I know is that it will work out for good (Romans 8:28), that He is faithful (Lamentations 3:22-23), and He is faithful to complete the work He's begun (Philippians 1:4-6). Everything else is up in the air. I don't like falling. Pray for us.

Day 32 - July 17 - Fever This Morning!

This is Cherié.... This morning we arrived to find Connor on a cooling blanket, he had spiked a fever early this morning of 103*. He had a very hard, but good day yesterday....

Yesterday Connor had all of the arterial lines taken out, a new smaller trach. tube put in, (to, in time, be used for speaking) and they took him off all meds. They are now giving him Vicadin, and something for anxiety through his stomach tube. So many things were done yesterday and so many wonderful friends showed up to visit... it was a great day, but Connor is wiped out this morning. The fever and all the procedures yesterday took a lot from him. But it was a good day.

Today they said that his x-rays show some fuzziness on them... so they are checking for pneumonia again. I about fell over with fear that they would be putting him back into the torture beds again after only two days on a real bed. Please pray that he would not need to go back onto those beds...

Last night God gave me another wonderful morsel of hope....Connor complained that his legs needed to be moved to a better position. The nurse and I asked him how he knew his legs needed to be moved, to which he replied that his heels were hurting!! I wanted to jump up and down with JOY!!! Though he cannot feel me touching his heels, or any other part of his body, he can feel pain, and he can feel it being relieved by me rubbing the foot, or moving the position. I don't understand it, but I will take anything I can get!! The nurses can look cross eyed at me if they want to. I just smile, as I find these things as a sign that God hasn't forgotten us, and will allow my son to walk again, I will hold fast to HOPE!

One day at a time...

As a good friend of mine said.... "Restoration happens a little at a time." I have to remember that, and hold fast to the promise that God will never leave us or forsake us.

I want to share with you a list that I have made to remember the "little by littles". I hold on to these, and hope for the future. God, please restore my son.

In the last four days....
*Off the beds
*Off the meds.
*No pace maker needed still
*Gag reflex happening again
*Pain in his back
*Shoulder and neck movement, though slight
*Cold sensations on his legs, back, and buttocks
*Nausea
*A pinching feeling in his arm that was relieved when moved to a new position
*Pain in his heels

I can never repay or express the blessing you are to Connor, to us as a family, and to me. I know that only in Heaven will I be able to fully express the thanks, love, and debt, I have for all of you. I love you, and I need you. Please do not stop praying, for I know God hears you.

Day 31 - July 16 - Meeting Results

Again, the meeting went just as I expected (Joélle is right - I do sound like Eeyore). The doctor and case worker have told us we need to be prepared to answer the question about whether we are going to try to provide 24 hour awake care at our house, or whether we are going to put Connor in long-term care somewhere.

How do you make that choice? It seems impossible that we could either provide or afford 24 hour care, and it seems equally impossible to even consider locking the boy into a room somewhere forever. They offer no option for rehab, because they believe it to be pointless. The best place they can offer is Valley, and all Valley will provide is training for us to care for Connor, not rehabilitation. So what decision do I make?

Cherié is wrestling with anger that his neck wasn't set immediately. Joélle is frustrated with me because she thinks I'm giving up, and to be honest, I feel like it sometimes. I can't seem to help either of them without upsetting them. The gramma's are trying to help in whatever way they can. And I'm trying to figure out how God can bring glory to Himself by locking my son inside his own head with no way out for the rest of his life.

And all the while, Connor is better than he was - but he still doesn't breathe on his own, and the doctors all say that if he had the capability, it would show up on the monitors. It isn't. It seems like he's just getting well enough to be locked inside his head for the rest of his life.

Our dilemma is that we don't want, or even know how, to plan for such things and also hold onto our hope for something else. Cherié says that it's like planning to turn right even though the warning sign says "left turn ahead". We need some help pretty quick in this department.

Day 31 - July 16 - A lot going on...

Wow, much is happening around here! We got the call from Brad while we were watching the 15th inning of the All-Stars game with Connor - as we waited for the staff to move Connor to his new bed!!! We found out last evening that they were moving him off of the rotating bed, and I haven't seen a grin that big on the boy's face in the month we've been here. Even missing the final play at the plate because of the move wasn't enough to dim that smile! What a blessing to finally get back into a normal bed (it's funny what I consider a "blessing" now, isn't it?). The three of us prayed for the Michigan boys, and every other person we considered at risk, until the staff arrived to switch to the new bed.

So Connor is firmly ensconced in a regular hospital bed, and I'm sure as soon as he wakes up he'll be propped up in it watching TV (for more than every other five minutes, too!), but what a great answer to prayer. We are now praying that God would continue to improve and sustain the boy's lung function effectively to the degree necessary to keep him safely out of any more rotating beds, ever.

Y'all saw Cherié's post with all that was going on yesterday - pretty cool, eh? I wanted to make sure everybody understands where we are so our prayers stay effective, so please forgive me while I reiterate the current condition. Connor remains paralyzed below the neck - he is beginning to feel some bodily sensations, some of which are unpleasant, but has not yet begun to move again or regain high degrees of sensation. One nurse thought she felt his leg move yesterday afternoon, and Connor told us he felt his right hand twitch as well. Additionally, he does not yet have autonomic control of his lungs. During a brief period of time yesterday without the respirator, he was able to make some significant lung action, although I can't tell you how effective or ineffective it was, as I didn't see it. But he did have some response to it, which I take as a good sign.
All in all, much to pray for, although we're hopeful and patiently (OK, maybe not so patiently) waiting for God's timing and healing. The nurse last night warned us that they would now begin lowering the boy's sedation meds with the goal of getting him off the respirator and out of ICU, which will be a difficult and frustrating process for Connor, so please continue to lift him up.

On the home front, I managed to get the RV to Fresno, and I am even now sitting in my new office (out under the awning because I can't get the wireless network inside the tenement). a HUGE "thank you" to my friends David J. and his family for the radiator and for getting the rig up to Campbell, and to Jeff S. and the crew at Tires Unlimited for the installation labor - and particularly to "the makers of WD-40 and one old Okie mechanic who doesn't know when to stop" (Jeff's words) who patiently worked on the frozen thermostat housing until he successfully removed it. The new thermostat and radiator meant that on my drive to Fresno, during the heat of the day, the RV's temperature never went above "M" in "NORMAL" during the entire trip - up the grade, and down the valley with the AC running full blast. I cannot begin to thank you guys enough.

Finally, just because I mention those two guys specifically does not mean we do not appreciate every single one of you for your contributions, your prayers, and your words of encouragement. We simply would never have the time to acknowledge the enormous outpouring of generosity toward us which the Lord is providing through you all. Yesterday afternoon, Cherié and I sat weeping and pouring out our thanks to the Lord for His daily provision to us through this all, and He is using your hands and hearts to show us that. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Today marks one month in the ICU. May God quickly grant us release from it.

Day 29 - July 14 - A quick last update

Well, it's 11:15 PM and I'm still not in bed, and have to get up at 0500 to drive to MoHill to get the RV. So just a very brief update -

We just left Connor sleeping tonight, after having visited with some of our motorcycle buddies for dinner. They had all ridden at least 300 miles to get here today. Three of my closest motorcycling friends, plus one brand new friend, rode in to take us to dinner. Stewart rode in from near Santa Rosa CA, while my buddy Pinkie came all the way from Eureka CA. My new friend Brett rode from San Diego, and he was joined by Ed - who flew to Houston TX to buy a new bike, and was on his way home to NorCal but came by to see us. It was a great blessing and a few hours of near-normalcy for Cherié and I - although I'm not too sure how the gramma's handled being out to dinner with a bunch of motorcyclists!

Connor had two different times today where he complained of sensations, either in his trunk or his hands. He also has frequently been telling us he is cold, and being placed under warming blankets. He has not yet regained any movement or feeling we can pinpoint. The RT continues to struggle with his lungs, as well. His numbers remain fairly constant, but without dramatic improvement. Please continue to lift up these important issues.

I will be gone until mid-afternoon tomorrow to bring the RV back. Maybe Cherié, Brad or Kent will post up while I'm gone...(hint, hint).

Thanks again for keeping us so lifted up - your support and prayer continues to overwhelm us.

Day 28 - July 13 - Eeyore vs. Tigger

Brad spoke on the phone with Joélle last evening, and observed to her that she was a lot more bubbly than her Dad. She told him that "Dad is the Eeyore of the family, and I'm the Tigger!" Brad commented to me later that she should be posting to the blog, as we could use a more "Tigger-y" viewpoint. I agreed, so now I'm in the process of convincing her to post some of her observations and views of this journey.

Until she does, however, I'll get you up to speed on the boy. I just came out of the room, where he is still on the more normal respirator setting, and his saturation numbers are all fairly good. The RT is trying to lower certain numbers, so he's performing this delicate balancing act to keep the boy stabilized while also reducing the pressures and percentages back toward normal. His X-ray this morning showed "a slight improvement" over yesterday.

The thing that got me today was when Connor kept trying to say something to me, and I couldn't quite get it. It started with "happy", but I was unsure of the rest. Finally, though, we worked it out - he was wishing me "happy belated birthday".

What do you do with a son who, while lying unmoving in a bed, apologizes because he missed your birthday? I told him he didn't need to worry about me, but about himself. He got his "angry" face and said "I don't care about me, I care about you!"

After I could speak again, I told him that he had just given me the best birthday gift a father could get from his son - the knowledge that even now, my son is more concerned for others than for himself. I told him how proud that made me of him, that I could be the father of such a man. That gave me all four of our eyes to find tissues for!

I told this to Granny, and she observed that we could take another lesson from the boy. Ain't that the truth...

Day 27 - July 12 - More Prayer Needed

Cherié just came out of Connor's room after talking to the Respiratory Therapist. It seems that while Connor's lungs sound clear and don't seem to be getting worse, apparently they aren't getting better, either. The X-rays don't show any improvement over the last few days, so the RT is changing things up a bit. They've been using the "standard" techniques that work for most folks, but don't seem to be working for Connor. Since there are other things where Connor hasn't fit - needing six or more times the Versed as most people, and responding quickly to the Roto-Prone - we're praying that this is another of those situations. Anyway, the RT wants to try some other things to see if he responds better to them than he is to the current techniques.

They also said they don't want to put him back on the Roto-Prone (neither do any of us!), but that he's not progressing sufficiently to get off the Roto-Rest (what a misnomer...). We want him off both of these mechanical-bull-beds as quickly as possible.

So, another prayer request which dovetails with the previous post. Please be praying that the Lord would clear out Connor's lungs out, removing the last of the fluid and restoring his lung function. Also, that Connor would not need to return to the upside-down bed, but would quickly move back to a regular bed instead.

We really need this. Thank you - we love you all, and covet your prayers.

Day 27 - July 12 - Specific Prayer

This morning we went up to the boy's room to find him on the thumper - a machine that pulses air into his lungs to break up congestion. If I've told that to you before, please forgive me for repeating myself. I've got a brain like a strainer lately - I pour things in, but most of it drains out the bottom before I can use it.

Anyway, we sat with him for a while, talking quietly, trying to prompt a smile or laugh. it is apparent today that Connor is combating despair. I think that when he is less sedated, the enormity of his situation overwhelms him. He handles it better than I could, but you can see it in his eyes. I don't know - maybe I project some of my own emotion into what I see, but I see a look peeking out of his eyes that I often see in the mirror.

So today, I ask that you would be praying specifically that the Lord would strengthen and encourage Connor for the road he is on. Additionally, I am asking you to battle with us for Connor's lung function and capacity. In order to wean the boy off of the ventilator, he has to have the capability to draw 500ml of air on his own. His current level of function is on the order of 50ml. We are in need of miraculous intervention of an order of magnitude in order to get him off the respirator.

The doctors are skeptical that this can occur. My God is bigger than they are.

Day 26 - July 11 - The Sailor

Ever since I wrote the last blog, I've been thinking about the final line. It sounds so spiritual, it almost makes me retch. I mean, c'mon - "make sure you keep your eye on The Sailor instead of the waves" sounds like something out of one of those cheesy inspirational movies you see on late-night TV. Yet at the same time, there's this eternal truth hidden in it that just keeps coming back to my mind.

We've had a pretty good day today. Connor is stable, his heart rate remains solid, the RT says his lungs sound good, he is still off the pacemaker, and it looks like the nerve issue with his heart during trach cleanings is clearing up - all good things. More good things outside of the CCU include the extraordinarily gracious repair of our RV, the locating of a place to park it (that even has a shade tree!), and some much-appreciated gifts that have blessed our socks off this afternoon. So we continue to sit and wait. and as I've sat and waited, I've been pondering why it's so easy to be terrified by the troughs of the waves, until you realize that your only hope is in the hands of the Master Sailor, but then as soon as you crest out onto the top of the wave, you take your eyes off Him and say "wow, what a nice view!"

So many times, I am terrified by the looming waves towering over my head. I scream out my horror, pleading to be saved from the impending disaster I, an unskilled landsman, see bearing down on me. Then, at the last moment, the ship somehow staggers out of the wind-torn trough and is momentarily poised high above the froth. At that instant, instead of pondering the skill of the captain, I look around for a moment and think "Oooh, look how pretty it is from up here!" Then suddenly the ship plunges back into the abyss, slipping downward as the next behemoth swells upward toward us.

Why is it that I am so fascinated by the movement of the waves, even when they terrify me? Why do I have so much energy to waste on observing and reacting to the wind-wracked surface, yet have no strength to notice the skill it takes to sail this sea? Why is it that the only attention I can spare from the allure of the storm is either a briefly muttered "thanks" to the sailor who is guiding the ship, or else a selfish demand to be taken somewhere else? How can I forget how much this passenger on the ship owes to the Captain who safely guides the vessel over each wave, around each rock, and (eventually) safely into harbor and up to the pier?

I owe so much to my Captain, and yet I rarely recognize or acknowledge His skill - skill at sailing, at navigation, at provisioning, and charting the route, not to mention the fact that He also built the ship. It amazes me that I can so easily identify the truth of this, while at the same time not be able to remember it more than about 15 minutes.

How do I glorify God when I can't even remember what He does for me? Why do I need to be reminded about the most amazing things He does? And why, as soon as I forget His working, am I suddenly convinced that He will not be faithful who has always proved faithful before? What would it be like if, instead of watching the storm, I watched the Sailor who knows how to sail? What would the journey be like that way? Can I even attempt to discipline myself to ignore the storm? It seems I'm too busy scrambling around the deck to be bothered to pay attention to the secure confidence He exudes.

And all the while, the Master stands securely at the helm as the storm rages on.

Day 26 - July 11 - Blessings I forgot, plus more

I forgot some when I was listing yesterday's blessings -

- two good friends stepped up and took care of our RV problems. Thank you thank you thank you!
- Connor directed me to go get some sleep (I had gotten two hours the night before, and have been averaging about four per night). I took his direction as permission, and slept through the night for the first time since this began.

And I have a couple more to add this morning. First, Connor again slept through the night without problems; his heart didn't have any significant problems, meaning they didn't have to use compressions or epinephrine or atropine on him. His heart rate is solidly in the 90s now, after having lingered anywhere from 50 to 70 over the last week or so. The pacemaker stlll sits unused outside his door. He was in pretty good spirits this morning, and he was reluctant to take the benadryl they've been giving him to rest until after he saw his sister and Granny. During the trach cleaning this morning, the senior RT was using Connor to help a new RT learn his trade (YIPES!?!). While Connor's face was a study in consternation, his heart rate never varied from 93-95. Praise the Lord for THAT answer to prayer!

Second, Cherié and Joélle first overheard, then spoke with the doctor who was most insistent about the pacemaker a few days ago. He wants to get the speech pathologist in to see about getting Connor fitted with either a new trach tube with a speaking valve, or rigging his current trach with one, and getting him talking, as he's already talking around his current trach and is able to swallow. He said that if he's doing this well a week from now, they would put a speaking valve into his trach.

When we heard this news, Cherié and I immediately came together to thank the Lord for these signs of encouragement, asking that He continue the work He's begun in the boy.

After that, Cherié sat to read her Bible, and shortly started reading aloud to me -

"2 Corinthians 4:16-18

Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal."

We're trying to learn to watch the Sailor, instead of the waves.

Day 25 - July 10 - Small blessings

My daughter, whom God has blessed with more faith and intellect than her old man, has been reminding me of a few things. I just heard my wife say "it was a great day" to my sister on the phone, and I cringed a bit - it didn't feel like a great day to me. In fact, it felt a lot like yesterday as I struggled against fear, despair and depression - the feeling that God has turned His face from me, and that He will not hear my cry. My beloved daughter saw my face and asked me what was up, and I told her that I didn't think it was a great day at all. Her reply - "compared to yesterday, it IS a great day!"

Then she proceeded to list the small blessings we've seen today - the ones I often overlook:

- Connor's heart is beating very well, even when they mess with his trach.
- Yesterday they wanted to cut him open and install a pacemaker - this evening, the external pacemaker still sits outside his room, unused.
- His spirits are improved greatly over yesterday, a direct answer to prayer. This afternoon he was joking and laughing with his sister, and even talking a bit around his trach.
- He is swallowing! I think this is due to his sister telling him "once you can swallow, even with the trach, you'll be able to drink lemonade".
- When he went down to get his CT Scan, they had to roll over four bumps in the hallway. Afterward, he complained to Cherié and Joélle that when he rolled over those things, it hurt his back around his shoulder blades.
- Tonight he was complaining vociferously that his right leg was freezing, until the nurses finally brought in a warming blanket for him.

We asked for encouraging signs. We got encouraging signs. I agonize over why we get such obvious answers to prayer in the small things while the big things go unanswered, without any obvious resolution. I wrestle with my intellect, Fear telling me that Connor's complaints must be only "phantom pains". I find my faith sorely strained. And yet the small, barely heard whisper of hope wafts through the recesses of my mind.

Day 24 - July 9 - It's gonna get serious...

You are all waiting to hear the results of the meeting with the Valley people. You also know that the results aren't good. What you don't know is how not-good it is. I don't really know how to write this, but I'll start by relating something that happened on Sunday -

We had a number of people visiting us on Sunday afternoon, when Cherié came into the waiting room from Connor's side and said "Eric, I need you in here now". Needless to say, we ran. Turns out, Connor had suddenly asked Cherié and Joélle "Do you have your sidearms on?" It took them a bit to figure out what he was saying, but they finally got it, and verified it by asking "Did you just ask us if we had our sidearms on?" He responded "Yes. God told me you need them. It's gonna get serious." They couldn't get anything else out of him and he went back to sleep, but we prayed with and over him, asking for protection over him and the family.

Well, he was right - it's getting serious. First, we found out today that Sunday night, Connor's heart stopped while they were cleaning his trach tube, and it took chest compressions, epinephrine and atropine to get it going again. I don't really understand why we are only finding this out now, nor do I have the energy to try to find out after the meeting we had this afternoon.

During the meeting, they gave us the most hopeless prognosis I've ever heard. I don't think it's necessary to give all the details in this instance, out of concern for the boy, but as they spoke, I came to understand the meaning of the phrase "another nail in the coffin".

My brother wisely reminded me that the only thing they told us which we KNOW to be true is that they aren't moving Connor to Valley now. Also, another friend had pointed out that doctors can give diagnoses, but prognoses are only truly available from God. Then, another wise friend of Cherié's pointed out that medicos practice medicine, but healing is the province of the Great Physician.

I have been struggling to post this without sounding either full of despair (we're not) or giving the impression that we're resting comfortably in the full confidence of the grace and provision of God (we're also not). We have not thrown away the confidence of our hope, and we are struggling to accept the path God has put our feet upon. Please continue to pray - for us, for Connor, for his healing.

Day 24 - July 9 - A request for us

A practical prayer request - for a number of purposes, we are going to try to get our RV down to Fresno and move into it. To do so, we need to find an RV park to put it in. Please don't misunderstand - we have been blessed, blessed, blessed by Gary and Charlaine making their home available to us, and to the many many people who have made us such gracious offers to use or share their homes. We just need to give Cherié a bit of "home away from home", and this seems to be a good way to do it, if we can make it happen. We've located a park only 4 or 5 miles from the hospital that will accept long-term RV parking, and we intend to go look at it tomorrow. It seems a bit silly in light of all the other things going on, but we would appreciate your prayers that there would be space available, that the operator would be sympathetic to our situation, and that we would be able to get the tenement on wheels down here to Fresno without any breakdowns.

Time frame remains to be worked out, but it would be a way to give Cherié a much-needed personal space while also saving us some money in the lodging department.

So we appreciate you taking a few minutes to lift this rather mundane concern up for us. Thank you.

Day 24 - July 9 - A request from Connor

Cherié asked Connor this afternoon if he has been praying. He said "yes", and Cherié asked him "We've been telling people what to pray for on the blog, but we haven't asked you. What are your prayer requests? We'll pass them on".

Connor replied "That I can breathe".

We beg you to lift him up to be released from the respirator and able to breathe adequately for himself. Please.

Day 24 - July 9 - If it's not one thing...

For as long as I can remember, my mother has said "If it's not one thing, it's another" whenever something goes awry. We kids would tease her a bit about that - I mean, if it isn't one thing, doesn't it HAVE to be another? Now I'm getting a sense of what she meant when she said that.

This morning Cherié and I were next to Connor's bed, praying and watching him sleep, when the new day nurse came in. He started with "I haven't met you before, are you relatives?" After we had explained that we were Connor's parents, he said "Well, I've got some bad news..." Great, just how I wanted to start my morning.

We stepped out of the room, where he explained that Connor has somehow contracted one of those super antibiotic-resistant bugs in his urine, and the room is now under special controls - everyone entering the room must now put on a gown and gloves, and discard them upon leaving, after which you have to wash your hands with soap and water. The not-quite-so-bad news is that this particular bug isn't resistant to everything in the arsenal, so they are starting him on some extra-super-duper antibiotics to combat the situation. As I understand it, the concern isn't healing Connor from it, but rather that it not be spread by the people who enter the room.

We asked what impact this might have on the evaluation later today, and his response was also not exactly what we wanted to hear - "It shouldn't affect it - if it does, it would only be for a few days, like seven to ten or so". Apparently, he and I have different definitions of "a few days".

So, I offer up some more prayer requests -

- That the antibiotics would be effective and quickly clear this bug from Connor's system
- That seeing his nurses and family gowned and gloved will not demoralize the boy
- That this would have minimal, if any, impact on the evaluation with the people from Valley
- That we wouldn't have to stay here another week or more

I'm sorry to start the day out this way. As we see it, Connor's fate and condition still rest securely in God's hands - we wrestle more with frustration than fear this morning. "Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged, for the LORD your God will be with you wherever you go."

Day 23 - July 8 - Fear

Night. Connor lies in his bed as we come in to see him before we go to sleep. He is visibly panting with his mouth, although no air can move in or out. As we begin speaking to him, he makes it clear that he doesn't want us to interrupt him. It is also clear that he is on the verge of panic as he tries, but fails, to breathe on his own. Of course, the ventilator and trach prevent him from taking a breath, but that doesn't mean much when you're trying to breathe. We try to calm him, and succeed to some extent - but he remains fearful. We speak words of encouragement and exhortation, and we pray and sing together, but nighttime brings fear to my son.

In this, he is just like me. Cherié struggles against anxiety in the mornings, while Connor and I fight depression in the evening. Through this all, Joélle maintains a pretty even keel - it is apparent much of the time that our kids are more able to deal with this than we are. I think the times Joélle is hit the hardest are the moments when she feels like she misses her brother, even when they're singing together at the bed. You catch a glint of falling tears as she sings with him, and you feel her pain and grief. So I have a special request -

I would like any of you who would like to help in some way to consider this - we need some special prayer warriors who will help us by providing specific prayer at specific times: for Cherié, that she would be able to overcome her anxiety in the morning hours from 0500 to 0800 Pacific Daylight Time; for Connor and I, that we would be able to overcome our depression and fear in the evening hours from 6 to 9 PM PDT; and for Joélle, that Christ would be filling the void she is feeling in her heart because of her brother (not so much of a timeframe on this one, but rather more of an "all the time" request). What I'm hoping is that you might consider lifting us up for these specific things during these specific times - for example, you might commit to pray specifically against Cherié's anxiety during the morning hours. Does that make sense?

You don't have to tell us you've decided to do this. You don't need to do anything but commit before God to take one or more of these needs and lift them up daily for us. We are really wrestling in these areas, and we need your help.

It is so encouraging to have your support from just about every time zone on the planet. The massive number of people who are caring for us in prayer is overwhelming. The fact that there are warriors on the other side of the planet praying at their desks during the day while we sleep through the night is incredibly comforting. So even if you're in another time zone or country, you are actively supporting Connor, Cherié, Joélle and I when you're on your knees. Please consider stepping up to this task for us if you feel led to do so.

In addition, we have a general prayer request as well. Tomorrow (Wednesday 7/9) in the late morning or early afternoon, the folks from Valley Medical Center are coming to evaluate the boy. While the RTs think he's ready to transfer, and the nurses going off duty for the week all came to say goodbye to us because they think we're not going to be here next week, I have a lot of fear that the Valley people are going to decide they can't help him. Please be praying for a positive outcome for the evaluation, and that I would not throw away my confidence.

Thank you for your faithfulness.

Day 23 - July 8 - Shrugs

About 30 seconds after I posted the last update, Cherié and Joélle came running out of the Trauma Center, excited that he is getting moved out of the upside-down bed. They are in the process of moving him back into the rocker bed right now, so that's good news. But the best part is that while the girls were talking to the boy, he shrugged his shoulders! They asked "Did you just shrug your shoulders?", and Connor smiled and shrugged his shoulders a few more times!

That's an encouraging sign! Funny, we were asking for encouraging signs this morning - strange how that works, isn't it? 8-)

Day 23 - July 8 - Confident?

OK. this morning I was reading Hebrews. Someone had reminded me of Hebrews 11:1 - "Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see.". Like any good Bible college graduate, I decided that I needed to see the context that was written in. We all now what's after that verse - a description of all the mighty people of faith. I thought I'd look to see what was before it - chapters and verses weren't inserted into the texts until the Middle Ages, remember? So I cranked up Hebrews 10:32 - 11:1, and you really need to go read it. I was reminded to not throw away my confidence. Since I woke up in a pretty good condition, I thought "OK, I won't" and went on my way.

Fast forward to late morning, when I'm in Connor's room while they prepare to turn him back over again. The doctors walk in (oh, so that's what a doctor looks like!) and we started discussing Connor's case. First, they've decided to take him out of the bed! So sometime today they're going to move him back to the Roto-rest and out of the Roto-prone. Good news!

Then they started talking about how he had "arrested" last night. Say what? Apparently, every time they work with his trach tube, his heart slows almost to a standstill. It's not really a cardiac arrest, but rather a significant slowing of the heartbeat. They say this is common in spine injury victims, but the doctors were wagging their beards and grumbling about how this shouldn't be happening at this stage, as it usually clears up after two weeks or so. The nurse said "I'm told this can continue as long as six weeks or more", to which the doctors harrumphed and decided that Cardiology needed to see him to determine the need for a pacemaker. So there's a prayer request for you - that there would be no need for a pacemaker, but that his heart would be strong, beat effectively, and keep his blood pressure at the appropriate levels to sustain all of his organs.

Then the doctors started discussing Connor's level of feeling. Apparently there is nothing below the point where Connor's neck joins his trunk. They gave me that "this is so tragic" look and told me they were doing all they could for him. I assured them that I had confidence in their abilities, telling them that it wasn't in their hands anyway. They agreed, and I told him that this was OK because I was talking to the boss.

Now, I'm as susceptible to despair as anyone else, maybe more than some. This news caused me to wrestle with it some more. That's when a friend of the family showed up. We started discussing the situation, and somehow we got talking about faith and hope. You know what he said? He said "Faith is confidence in what we can't see, and hope is confident expectation. So don't lose confidence in God". I thought "Confidence? I've read something about confidence recently", so I grabbed the Bible and we began discussing how God works to encourage us through each other and through His word.

So that's where we are right now. We are praying confidently that God will continue His healing work in Connor. You need to be confident in this too. The widow woman didn't give up just because the judge said 'no', she just kept coming back and asking for justice. The guy in the parable didn't stop knocking on the door even though his neighbor wasn't getting out of bed - he kept making a spectacle of himself until the neighbor got out of bed and gave him the bread he was asking for. We confidently ask God for the bread we desire - full, complete healing of the boy, with movement, feeling, and control of all his body. We know our God can do this - we continue to ask that He will.

Day 22 - July 7 - Health Protection

We got word today that the gentleman and his wife who have so graciously allowed us to use their home are suffering from some sort of illness - a cold or flu or something. Today is also the evening when he comes to stay at the house in town until Thursday, so he called me in concern that he was bringing some bug home with him. After some discussion, Cherié and I opted to move out of their home in order to protect Connor and us from getting sick, and to allow him to recuperate in his own home. So tonight, we're moving in to a local hotel for a few nights.

Please pray continued protection from illness for us, particularly for Connor. We are taking all the precautions we can to prevent us accidentally transmitting something to him; he can't afford to get another infection at this stage. Also, pray that the folks in whose home we have been living would recover quickly and without ill effect.

Another prayer request - the team from Valley Medical Center's rehab facility is coming down on Wednesday to evaluate Connor. It surprised everyone - us, the nurses, the doctors, and the case manager - that they would come down to see him while he is still in the bed. But they're coming, and they intend to evaluate whether they think they can help him or not. Please be praying for the right outcome of this evaluation - it is our feeling that Valley would be a good place for Connor to move to; it is well-regarded and close to our home. So we are praying that God would open up a place for Connor there, that this move would be quickly accomplished, and that it would represent the best available help for his needs.

Last word - the RT has pushed Connor's pressure back up to 24, while lowering his O2 to 35%. His PF ratio last I heard was about 317. Keep praying!

Day 22 - July 7 - Numbers and percentages and rehab, oh my.

Connor continues to sleep, a blessing for all of us. I had a long discussion with the respiratory therapist (RT) this morning about what the different numbers mean. We all know what's up with O2 percentages and saturation numbers, and Connor's are still 40% and high-90s this morning. We also know a bit about the pressure numbers, which define how hard they're pumping air into his lungs and how much the lungs inflate. Connor started in the mid-30s, and they have been slowly lowering it until right now it is at 22. The RT tells me that 20 is considered good, so once Connor can get there and sustain his Pf ratio (I'll get there in a minute), they can start weaning his O2 levels down toward room air (21%). The kicker is his Pf ratio.

I don't know what it stands for - I'm sure there is some impressive-sounding medical words for what it stands for, but basically it's a ratio of Connor's blood oxygen level numbers and the percentage of O2 they're feeding him. They need to see Pf ratios above 300 and with improving trends before they'll consider taking the boy out of the Iron Maiden. Yesterday Connor's Pf was 320. This morning it was 260. There's some degree of involvement from the lowering pressures, so the RT isn't particularly concerned - he says it goes up and down and the trends are what's important. Dad wants to see them going up and staying up.

I asked what somebody standing around and talking would have for a Pf ratio, and he thought somewhere around 500, while it would be much lower for an inactive or sleeping person. Connor's is not yet in a place where they're comfortable taking him out of the bed, so my prayer request for this morning is that we would pray him out of this thing as soon as possible consistent with his safety.

To give you an idea why I want him out of this device so badly, and to let you know why I haven't posted any pictures of the boy in it and also explain why Connor doesn't get to watch DVDs or look at pictures, I'll try to explain in a way that gives enough information without giving too much. First, let me say that you never, ever want to have anyone you love in one of these things if you can keep from it. I described it the other day as "sort of like 'The Man in the Iron Mask' but not as pleasant". It is a wonderful tool for doing what it is doing, and I praise God that He gave somebody the smarts to figure it out in the first place - but at the same time it is a horrendous torture device which only needs scarlet-robed Inquisitors cackling gleefully around it to complete the picture. The boy can't see anything out of it, firstly because it has only very narrow eye slits in the faceplate that bolts in place to support his head, and secondly because his eyes swell shut as soon as they turn him face down again. So he lies immobilized, face down, locked into this rocking machine, with nothing to occupy him but his thoughts. We turn music on when we can, but I find it hard to imagine a more horrifying situation. I pray continuously that the boy is sleeping under his sedation so he doesn't have to face that all day, every day.

So please pray that Connor can be removed from this thing as soon as possible because he won't need it anymore.

Another prayer request - that God would be preparing the way for Connor to get closer to home. We've been talking with his case manager today about beginning the process to transfer the boy to Valley Medical in San Jose, which is only about 25 miles from our house. They are reported to be very good at rehab for SCIs, and barring direct intervention from God they seem to be a good starting point for getting Connor back on his feet. The case manager tells us that they can't begin the transfer process until the trauma doctors clear him, and that can't happen as long as he is in the bed. We need to get him out of this thing!

Please do not give up hope for my son. God has given me a brain, and I am trying to use it to decipher the best human course of action, all the while praying that God would make it all unnecessary. Please pray that God would set my boy upright again, that He would grant us wisdom as we try to figure out what's best, and that He would open the doors as appropriate to pave the way for us to get Connor home.

And thank you for being faithful to His call and continuing your efforts in prayer for all of us. You bless us greatly.

Day 21 - July 6 - Communion when you're angry

Connor is sleeping right now. His temperature is normal, and his white blood count is back down to normal levels. Thank you, Lord, for answering these prayers. Please hear the cry of our hearts.

This afternoon, a number of friends came by (thank you all!!!), and one of them brought the elements for communion. She asked if we wanted to have communion. My first inclination was to say "no" - I didn't think I could approach it with the right spirit and intentions. Cherié had other ideas, however, so she grabbed a songbook, another friend grabbed a Bible, and an impromptu church service began. I didn't really feel up to the personal introspection involved, but I bowed my head and tried to get myself into the right frame of mind.

As our friend read, I prayed. If you want to take communion, but you have something between you and a brother, you're supposed to clear it up before you take the communion, right? Well, there's something between me and God, so I went to Him. I confessed my anger at Him for what's going on with my son. I told Him how His actions have offended me, if you can conceive of a human doing such a thing. I prayed and said that my heart wasn't right to take communion.

You know what? I was reminded that I don't really have any business questioning God's actions (surprise, surprise). I was also reminded, ever so gently, that I wasn't the only father in our conversation to have a son suffer. And I remembered that the first Son had to suffer for the two of us to even be having this conversation about the second son.

He was right. I ended up taking communion.

Day 21 - July 6 - Pain?

We had the opportunity to attend church for the first time since Connor's accident this morning, and it was a beneficial time of renewal for us while Granny and Uncle Dan watched the boy for us. While we were on the way to the hospital, we got a call from the watchers. Connor has begun complaining to the nurse. That in itself is a pretty noteworthy item, but we think it's significant what he's complaining about. He is telling the nurses that when they move him in a certain position, his back hurts. They have asked him if he means his neck, and he keeps telling them "no, it's my back".

We are pleased to hear this news - pain is feeling. So we are thanking God for this information, while at the same time renewing our efforts in prayer for Connor's complete restoration.

Thank you for your continued prayers. Thank you, Lord, for Your faithfulness to Your children.

Day 21 - July 6 - O, Brother...

"A friend loves at all times,
and a brother is born for adversity."

- Proverbs 17:17

I never have to ask "Where art thou?".

I am eternally blessed with the two best brothers (and the best sister) a man could hope for. I will not forget.

Nor will I forget that there is one that sticks closer than a brother...

Day 20 - July 5 - The Moment

I know many of you are interested in knowing how this whole chain of events began. I've had the opportunity to speak with Connor's friends, one of the paramedics who responded to the initial call, the MD at the camp who stabilized Connor for travel, and the trauma surgeon who admitted him to the hospital, and I think I can paint a reasonably clear picture of most of what occurred. There are many things we won't know this side of heaven, but I'll share what I've pieced together. All names have been removed.

I also know that when you combine the words "teen-aged boy" and "diving accident" in the same sentence, you instantly get images of high rocks and shallow water. All of this would be easier to understand if that were the case...

It began with the trip to the swimming hole, or "the cove" as it's known at Hume Lake. I asked his friend to tell me who was there. The story began in typical young man fashion - "It was me, Connor, and eight girls". Yep, sounds like Connor!

Anyway, they were at the cove, and the two young men ran into the lake and dove in. The water was increasing in depth, about thigh-deep where they shallow-dove into the lake. Connor's friend came back up, looked around, and saw Connor floating face down in the water. Since the girls had been afraid to go in the cold water, everybody thought he was play-acting, but the longer he remained still, the closer the friend looked. Finally, he saw Connor's shoulders moving oddly and realized that his friend wasn't faking at all. He dove back in, swept Connor out of the water, and turned him over. Connor was pale and his lips were blue. They got him back to shore and about half out of the water, while everybody hollered for help. Connor managed to get the water out of his lungs and began breathing, while two emergency room nurses who "just happened" to be on the beach at the time began assessing and trying to stabilize him.

Connor says that he remembers being in the water, unable to move, and praying "Lord help me, let him see me, Lord help me, let him see me". He says the last thing he remembers is seeing his friend's arm sweep in front of his face, then he awoke on the beach.

As near as we can tell, Connor never struck anything with his head. He has no contusions on his face, no cuts or bruises on his face or head anywhere. His friend says there are no rocks in the water there, because it is the usual swimming area. The photo at the top of this post is the exact spot where Connor entered the water (the underwater log in the lower left of the photo drifted there four or five days after Connor's accident). It appears from the nature of his injuries that perhaps he struck the bottom (or something) with both his hands, at which point both of his shoulders dislocated. The doctors say his injury is consistent with a really, really extreme whiplash, so it's possible that as his dislocated shoulders moved backward under the force of his forward motion, the shoulder blades swept forward and forced the vertebrae out of place. That's all speculation, BTW.

Back to the story. Connor's friend ran about a mile, barefoot across gravel and sand, to the complex to get help. There "just happened" to be a squad meeting of the paramedics beginning, and they all jumped up and ran, arriving on scene in about a minute or so. The physician who was working as the camp's doctor that week "just happened" to be a trauma and ER surgeon at St. Agnes hospital in Fresno. Connor was airlifted to the hospital, two hours away by road, in seventeen minutes. I'm told he was talking with the paramedics when he was rolled into the emergency room.

It is clear in retrospect that God was planning for all this to happen in His time and according to His plan. Apart from all the "just happened"'s I've already mentioned, I "just happened" to be leaving the next morning for a week-long motorcycle trip with friends, so I had time off from work for ten days. Because of my motorcycle plans, I "just happened" to have purchased a membership with CalStar (LifeFlight) - it gave any of my family members covered helicopter transport in the event it was necessary. I "just happened" to buy that membership two weeks before the accident. Back in March, Joélle's boyfriend Alan had "just happened" to arrange to live with us over the summer to earn money for college, so he was here to help support the family during the crisis. Cherié's bands "just happened" to have no gigs scheduled for the next few weeks, so she had no obligations to undo. God had provided for us all ahead of time, laying out His plan.

I'm not too keen with the plan at this particular moment, but I am convinced that He is in control. He asks me to trust Him; He didn't ask me to like it. And yet in some odd way, I find myself at peace while I grieve; I ache and yet worship; I hope in the midst of despair.

May the peace of God guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. Amen.

Day 20 - July 5 - Concerns...

I was discussing sedation options for Connor with the nurse, and she mentioned that Connor's temperature and white blood cell count are going back up a bit. I asked if that meant he was getting another infection, and she said that it was just something they were watching right now, but that these were things they really wanted stable, not going back up.

Please pray protection from infection and fever for the boy. Pray for continued progress with getting him off the respirator. Pray that he can rest effectively so his body can heal.

Day 20 - July 5 - Speaking?

We are sitting many more hours with Connor while he is face-down in the Beast, as we've found that he isn't as sedated as we all thought he was. He is receiving about six times more Versed than most people usually get, and should be gone to the world, according to the nurses. Instead, he converses with us, goofs off with the nurses, and sings along with his music (thank you, Jon Guerra and the worship team at MBI chapel!). The nurses don't really know how to deal with the fact that he isn't sedated like he should be, so he is at least partially aware while he's locked into the bed. Not the most desirable of conditions, and so we do what we can to ease that for him.

One of the things we discovered because of this is the fact that Connor has figured out how to sneak air past his trach tube in certain positions while face-down, and has begun to try to talk around it. He's actually understandable at times, and it is good for him to be able to convey his thoughts. Unfortunately, one of the first things he communicated to us is that he wants to be on his back so he can sleep. Trying to soothe him with "they'll turn you over in an hour" doesn't really cut the mustard in the comfort department, so both his and our tension levels climb. Still, we are pleased with this small change.

Another small improvement - his ventilator's pressure setting has been reduced from 30 (psi?) to 27. Once it gets down to 20 they can start weaning the ventilator. Also, Connor got to stay on his back for three or four hours straight this morning, and kept his O2 saturation at a good level. So God gives the small steps.

Please continue to pray for his lung capability and health. The morning's X-ray was slightly better than yesterday, but perhaps not as good as the Respiratory Therapist would like to see. So they are using a machine to thump his lungs to knock loose more stuff. We continue to pray for his lung health, and for God's provision to get him off the respirator.

Day 19 - July 4 - More prayer requests

Tonight we saw the boy unlike we've seen him before - hurting. Not physically, but emotionally and spiritually. Not a mood that could be lifted, but a deep, soul-aching pain. It grieved us and we were unable to assuage it completely, and it was apparent that our boy is doing his own crying out to God.

Our prayer requests for tonight -

- spiritual comfort for Connor
- rapid weaning from the roto-bed and the respirator
- transfer to a quality rehab location near home as soon as possible
- wisdom to discern that location
- clean and clear lungs
- lung function without respirator support
- full return of all feeling, movement and control
- strength for the family to carry on

Thank you for carrying us another day.

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...

Day 18 - July 3 - Cue the deer

I often imagine God watching from on high, orchestrating the events that we encounter as we move through our lives. In a way, it reminds me of the movie "Funny Farm", where Chevy Chase is trying to sell an undesirable house by staging an idyllic country scene. In one moment, as the potential buyers move to the porch, he grabs a walkie-talkie and whispers into it "Cue the deer!", at which point a local hidden in the woods releases a doe and a couple fawns, which scamper across the lawn just in time to be sighted by the buyers.

God doesn't do those things to deceive, of course, but He does move people and things through our lives to bless and encourage us. We had one of those a few minutes ago...

I had been having some thoughts today that perhaps this might be the best I could hope for. I'm getting tired, and it's easy for me to lose track of my thoughts, and I was letting my guard slip and these thoughts were sneaking through. Anyway, Cherié and I were taking some cookies (provided very generously by a local restaurant which has been providing meals for us all week) in to the nursing staff as a small sign of our appreciation, and we were waiting to be admitted to the ICU when a woman standing next to us struck up a conversation. She asked us why we were here, and we explained that our son had broken his neck. She asked at what level his injury had occurred, and we told her "C4/C5". She responded "Well, I hope this encourages you, but 10 years ago I was on life support because of a C3 injury". We went "What?" and she told her that her C2 and C3 vertebrae were fused after she broke her neck in a friend's yard. Here she was, standing in the hallway, telling us of her survival through an injury higher than Connor's. She said "I'm a living testimony to the power of healing". She also told us that her mom, while she was in the hospital, had told the doctors "My God is bigger than you are, so you just need to be quiet!" To say we were encouraged would be a significant understatement!

By the way, she never went into ICU. She was gone when we came out. I don't know her name - as a matter of fact, I can't remember anything about her except "C2/C3". I don't know anything else, but I'm convinced that God brought our lives into intersection at that moment to pass that word to us. So we will take that encouragement as another sign of God's provision for us. Praise the Lord!

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.

Day 17 - July 2 - Clarification - and praise!

After I posted that last blog, Cherie and I went in to put the boy to bed. Connor was sleeping soundly, so I took the opportunity to talk with the nurse. I asked her, since Connor had started the day at 40/100 and ended the day at 40/100, if that meant the respiratory therapists had tried to lower his O2 level further but he hadn't responded well. She told me that in fact, Connor had come so quickly down from 70% to 40% that they wanted to make sure he adjusted well before they lowered it further. I'll take that as a praise! I guess that means we get to keep praying for that 21%/100!

Another praise - my boss has graciously extended me additional time from work to deal with this situation. My most heartfelt appreciation goes to her and to my coworkers who are taking up the slack caused by my absence. Praise the Lord for such provision.

One more request before we sleep. The travel travail has begun. Our girl has gone back to our house in Morgan Hill to take care of some things. I would ask that y'all remember her safety when you pray.

We love y'all - God bless you.

Day 17 - July 2 - Still there

Connor is still in the bed. His numbers are still 40%/100. The doctors are still pleased with his progress.

I wish I had something better to report, but today seems to have been a day of waiting.

This seems to be a good time to reiterate our latest prayer requests -

- That Connor's oxygen levels would be stable so that he can be removed from the Rotisserie
- That his lungs would take over for the respirator and he could be removed from that as soon as possible
- That he would regain feeling, movement, and control of all his body - at this time he has none, but we are confident in our Lord
- That God would arrange everything so that Connor can quickly leave the ICU and be moved closer to home
- That God would be preparing the best rehab spot possible for Connor
- That God would miraculously heal and make all those preparations unnecessary!

Additionally -

- That God would lift and minister to Connor's spirit, encouraging and strengthening him in this time of trial
- That we would have clear understanding of Connor's communications until he gets his trach out
- That God would provide protection from spiritual attack, both for Connor and for our family
- That God would refresh Cherié, Joélle and I to take the next step of the journey
- That we would faithfully fulfill the roles in which God has placed me, my son and my family

Thank you for your diligent, fervent prayers. God sustains us with the thought of your web of support.

Day 17 - July 2 - What we wanted to see...

I was praying for 21% and 100. The 21 of course, is the "normal" atmospheric percentage of oxygen, the rest being nitrogen and trace gases. So I was praying for "normal" oxygen levels for the boy.

What the nurses and respiratory therapists like to see is "less than 40%". They consider that to be good.

This morning when I walked into Connor's room, he had been lying flat on his back, without the bed rocking, for more than half an hour. He was on 39% O2 and at 96% saturation!

So, another answer to prayer. The nurse said that the doctors are "extremely pleased" at Connor's progress thus far, and were discussing getting him out of the bed AND getting him off the respirator! Sounds like another answer to prayer, to me.

God remains faithful to us, even when we doubt, question, pout, scream and cry. God holds fast to us, even when we want to let go. I am reminded this morning that my Lord wants me to cling to Him in the midst of a storm that He has decreed I can handle. I sometimes have a differing opinion, but His trumps mine.

May Your will be done with my boy, Lord.

Day 16 - July 1 - ConnorWatch Donations

For those of us out here in the trenches of ConnorWatch, we don't get the range of emotions associated with seeing Connor everyday, so the little things must make do for excitement for us.

I'm excited and pleased to announce that as of midnite EDT, after having been in operation for only five days, with 27 contributors, the ConnorWatch benefit has crossed the two thousand dollar mark.

The money that you have so selflessly and generously donated will be used to take care of the expenses that Eric and Cherié and family are accumulating living away from home for the past two weeks. As soon as we make specific distributions, I'll be able to tell you what blessings your generosity has provided.

Thank you again for your continued and on-going support, in prayer, encouragement, and financially. You demonstrate collectively a care for others that the world would do well to emulate. I am grateful that I get to be a part of seeing this happen.

Brad
Michigan

Day 16 - July 1 - One more post

How firm a foundation, ye saints of the Lord,
Is laid for your faith in His excellent word!
What more can He say than to you He hath said—
To you who for refuge to Jesus have fled?

“Fear not, I am with thee, oh, be not dismayed,
For I am thy God, and will still give thee aid;
I’ll strengthen thee, help thee, and cause thee to stand,
Upheld by My gracious, omnipotent hand.

“When through the deep waters I call thee to go,
The rivers of sorrow shall not overflow;
For I will be with thee thy trouble to bless,
And sanctify to thee thy deepest distress.

“When through fiery trials thy pathway shall lie,
My grace, all-sufficient, shall be thy supply;
The flame shall not harm thee; I only design
Thy dross to consume and thy gold to refine.

“The soul that on Jesus doth lean for repose,
I will not, I will not, desert to his foes;
That soul, though all hell should endeavor to shake,
I’ll never, no never, no never forsake.”

Day 16 - July 1 - Oops, I forgot

In the midst of all the stuff today, I forgot to pass on this answer to prayer. The neurosurgeon told me that Connor no longer needed the cervical collar because his neck's bone structure was now as solid as ever.

Just thought y'all might like to know! Add that to the "answered prayer" list!

Day 16 - July 1 - 55/100!

Just left Connor's bedside, where his numbers were 55% O2 and 100% saturation! Praise the Lord! I've decided I'm going to pray for 21% and stable sats at 100% for tomorrow!!!

The amazing thing about this, however, is that Joélle, Cherié and I went into his room and turned on one of Connor's favorite worship CDs. He plays this CD all the time, knows all the words, and can usually be found singing the words to the songs at nearly every hour of the day. We played the CD all the way through, and the four of us sang together in worship of our Lord. Connor mouthed the words with us, and we sang and sang and sang. We wept as we sang with our son these words - "Lord, I want to yearn for You, I want to burn with passion over You, and only You". We kept weeping as we sang all the verses of "How Firm a Foundation", especially the last three verses -

How firm a foundation, ye saints of the Lord,
Is laid for your faith in His excellent word!
What more can He say than to you He hath said—
To you who for refuge to Jesus have fled?

“Fear not, I am with thee, oh, be not dismayed,
For I am thy God, and will still give thee aid;
I’ll strengthen thee, help thee, and cause thee to stand,
Upheld by My gracious, omnipotent hand.

“When through the deep waters I call thee to go,
The rivers of sorrow shall not overflow;
For I will be with thee thy trouble to bless,
And sanctify to thee thy deepest distress.

“When through fiery trials thy pathway shall lie,
My grace, all-sufficient, shall be thy supply;
The flame shall not harm thee; I only design
Thy dross to consume and thy gold to refine.

“The soul that on Jesus doth lean for repose,
I will not, I will not, desert to his foes;
That soul, though all hell should endeavor to shake,
I’ll never, no never, no never forsake.”

Thank you, Lord, for that half hour.

Day 16 - July 1 - Is there anyone else up there we could talk to?

Last night's numbers - 85% O2, 98% saturation. I went home and prayed that we would continue to see improvement in Connor's numbers, and I specifically prayed that we would see the numbers go down to 60% O2 while his saturation level stayed stable. I just left Connor's room and the numbers were 60% O2 and 100% saturation! Before I could say anything to the family, two others commented that they had been praying to see 60% today as well. What an answer to prayer - my God is worthy to be praised. The nurses are pleased with Connor's progress, and say that his clinical picture is improving!

Interestingly enough, the day started with a conversation between a neurosurgeon and myself. The gist of the conversation, in an oblique fashion, was that we should prepare ourselves to let Connor die. The doctor told me of the possible infections, the near-certainty that no function will ever be regained, and that we should consider that even if he manages to pull through, the odds were that he would not have a lengthy life. He reminded me that Christopher Reeve had access to every medical technique and assistance money could buy, and he only lived nine years after his accident. He wanted to make sure we used "common sense" as we made decisions about Connor's care.

I tell you these things not to frighten or panic anyone - the possibility has existed all along that God may call Connor home. I also don't tell you these things to extinguish hope - my hope is in the Lord (the maker of heaven and earth), not in a neurosurgeon. I tell you these things because you need to hear how God is moving in and around us. I told the neurosurgeon that I am confident in the provision of my God; and I continue to claim the promise implicit in this verse:

"The effective, fervent prayer of a righteous man avails much" - James 5:16.

I'm a man, and I am praying, so the verse looks like this -

"The effective, fervent prayer of a righteous man avails much".

I'm not righteous - except in light of my standing before God because of the blood of Christ. Then I am righteous, and that makes it look like this -

"The effective, fervent prayer of a righteous man avails much".

If there's anything I am about this, it's fervent -

"The effective, fervent prayer of a righteous man avails much".

Now, the "avails much" part is under God's control - I either believe it or not, and I believe it. So now I'm pretty much working on the "effective" part. This is where your support is so critical - I don't think "man" means "male"; I think it means "human". If you're a follower of Christ, you're righteous in God's eyes because of the blood of the Lamb, even if you don't feel like it all the time. You are all fervently lifting Connor and my family to the throne of God. And you are being as effective as you know how. What a promise, that our prayers can actually move the hand of God!

I am endeavoring to give you the most up-to-date information in order to make your prayers more effective. And that's why I tell you about my conversation this morning - so that we can fervently and effectively pray.

So the answer to the question posed in the title of the post is a resounding "Yes"! Praise be to God, who promises that He hears our prayers and answers us!

Day 15 - June 30 - Answers to prayer

A quick post to update you and see if I can post from my iPhone.

Connor's saturation remains at 98 on 85% oxygen, still in the Roto-Pedic. His right lung continues to show congestion, but they are getting lots of stuff out of his lungs, which is an answer to prayer. Thank you, Lord!

The neurosurgery team cleared Connor today to take his cervical collar off! There's some question if it is "for a while" or "for good", but the sense I got 2nd hand was that he didn't have to wear it anymore! He certainly didn't have it on this afternoon!

So, some good news today. Please continue to lift the boy up for his full restoration. It's exciting to watch God work!

Day 15 - June 30 - More lung procedures

At 2 PM PDT, the surgeons are going to do another procedure on Connor, where they drive a tiny camera down into his lungs and suction them out. This is a procedure that would appeal to Cherié, with her passion for vacuuming! Seriously, this has it's obvious risks and concerns, but also gives the doctors a chance to actually see much of what's going on in Connor's lungs while grabbing as much of this stuff as possible.

Please be praying that the doctors would be able to get the rest of this stuff out of his lungs, and that they will be amazed at how much progress Connor is making. Pray that the results of this procedure would translate into a significantly shorter period of time in the Roto-pedic, as well as a significantly shorter duration on the ventilator.

Please also pray that the procedure itself would be done correctly, safely and efficiently - that the doctors would know what to do and what not to do.

Also, this is a good time to publicly thank all the very professional health care providers who are taking such good care of the boy. I thank God for each of them; for the knowledge, skills and abilities that He has placed in them; and for their continued dedication to taking care of Connor when we are unable to do so. If I start mentioning names, I'll forget someone, and I don't want to do that. So, from a couple of very grateful parents, thank you for caring for our son.

Day 15 - June 30 - Despatch from the front

Quick updates on a number of items -

First, we got the call at 0130 that they were going to put Connor on this new bed. He gets to hang on his belly for three out of every four hours. The bed looks like a cross between one of those pressing machines at a dry-cleaners and the pod that Neo climbs out of in The Matrix.  OK, maybe not as goopy, but it's still pretty intimidating. Anyway, after we got the call, we (surprisingly) didn't get an overwhelming need to rush to the hospital. We began to pray about the boy, and felt a peace that God was taking care of him. Cherie had Phillipians 1:6 impressed on her, that He who began a good work in you will be faithful to complete it. Every time I came close to consciousness, I heard the first verse of "A Shelter in the Time of Storm" - and we spent the rest of the night resting in confidence provided by the Lord.

When I got to the hospital this morning, my extended family tried to head me off as I went to see Connor. I told them it was OK and that I wanted to spend some time with him by myself. When I went into the room, the nurse tried to head me off too. Apparently, everybody here thought that seeing this newfangled machine was going to depress me - and I can see why they would think that. What they didn't know, however, was how God had carried me all night. Seeing Connor's numbers only confirmed what I had been confident of all night - that God was using this machine to accomplish the answer to prayers we'd been praying the last few days. His saturation is in the high 90s and his O2 has been tweaked down to 90%. How's that for an answer to prayer?

Please continue to lift Connor up - that his lungs would recover sufficiently enough to get back into a normal bed and begin weaning off the respirator.

Briefly, on other fronts -

Cherié's heart is fine, confirmed by a cardiologist. They are running bloodwork to make sure everything else is OK too, and we're trying to reduce her stress level as much as possible.

Joélle's issues with Moody have been resolved, although not exactly as she would have liked. Still, she will be able to take a leave of absence from the school and return to her program of study in the Spring semester. Thank you to all you who took steps to help us get this straightened out. A particularly heartfelt "Thanks, brother" to the Dean of Undergraduate Studies at MBI for his compassion and assistance.

Please pray that we'll know what to do about me going back to work. I can't stay out indefinitely, yet dread being that far from the family. Not to mention the awkward fact that many there have been following my journey here, recognize that I'm not the same man that left a few weeks ago, and will be watching to see if my words here will have any truth in the "real" world.

Please pray that we could get the boy close to home soon, and into the best possible place for him.

I'm sure the ride has more surprises coming - hold fast.

Day 15 - June 30 - Morning Report

Eric just called with a status report.

Connor's condition has worsened to some degree over the night. His oxygen saturation continues to drop as the condition in his lungs deteriorates. While this may just be one of the many dips on the roller-coaster, the medical staff is concerned enough that they have transferred him to a different kind of bed, one that rotates him completely, as opposed to the one that was just rocking him. So now he gets completely rolled over, which sounds like fun if you are 14 and healthy, but not so much for Connor.

As you can imagine, for Eric and Cherié it brings discouragement and despair. God did grant a bit of relief during the night, however, after the staff called Eric at the house at 1:30 a.m., they were spared the sense of urgency to return to the hospital and they were able to pray and doze for the rest of the night. They are preparing to head in as I write.

Pray for Connor's ability to get the oxygen that he needs, and for Eric and Cherié to get the rest and encouragement that they need.

Brad
Michigan

Day 14 - June 29 - Lung Issues

We just left Connor's room after discussions about fluid in his lungs, different respirator settings, and a large assortment of other things. They don't seem to be able to keep his O2 saturation levels up where they need to be, even with 100% oxygen. They are limited by pressurization issues, the fear of his trachea going necrotic due to the trach tube pressures, and his lungs filling with fluid that they can't siphon out. They're doing everything humanly possible, and they're barely keeping his levels at a point where his organs are still safe. As his saturation levels fall, his organs become at risk.  It feels like we're at the point where we need direct intervention from God if Connor is to remain healthy.

Each time they have to move or work with him, he de-saturates, with his levels dropping to the low 80s. High 90s is what they want.

We need some very specific answers to prayer -

- That the fluid would be removed from his lungs 

- That all his organs remain safe and healthy

- That he attains a safe oxygen level and is able to remain oxygenated

- That his breathing capability quickly improve so that he is able to get off of the respirator soon, and with his trachea undamaged

Lord, we thank you ahead of time for the timely answer to these requests. Be honored in us.

Please be lifting Connor up, tonight and continuously. 

Day 14 - June 29 - Roto-bed

A quick update to fill everyone in on the physical situation. The nurses told us late last night that they were concerned that Connor's lung had collapsed. After praying about that, the X-rays came back showing that nothing had collapsed. Praise the Lord!

 

The staff is very concerned about the condition of his lungs, with all sorts of "stuff" accumulating in them and preventing his saturation levels from rising to the desired levels. They finally decided to place him in a thing called a roto-bed, which doesn't really "roto"; it's more of a rocking motion. It moves slowly back and forth like if you were on a really, really large ship. They should call it a rocko-bed, except that then we'd all think it was something Elvis owned. Anyway, he's in this machine that keeps his lungs moving from side to side, which is intended to loosen up the stuff in there. While he's on this bed, they have to keep him more heavily sedated. We've been told he would need to be on this thing for two or three weeks. We take that report and hand it to our Advocate for Him to take care of. We're praying that it's a matter of days, not weeks.

Continue to lift him up. He needs it.

Day 14 - June 29 - This means war

I've mentioned before the sense of oppression that hangs over this hospital. I haven't mentioned what's been going on around here specifically, for fear that you all would think I was a lunatic. Well, I'm past that - you can think I'm insane if you like, but you need to know that I'm sitting in the middle of a pretty intense spiritual battle. For all I know, it may only be a spiritual skirmish, but from my point of view it seems more like a full-blown engagement.

I won't get into a theological discussion about spiritual adversaries - if you believe the Bible is true, you must accept the existence of evil forces arrayed against anyone who claims the name of Christ. What I will tell you now is what's been going on over the last few days.

The first two nights we slept in the little room the hospital provided, I awoke in the middle of the night in the throes of despair. The third and fourth nights we slept there, we claimed the protection of the name of Jesus Christ over that room and Connor's, rebuking Satan in Jesus' name to stake out a safe territory for His children. Both of those nights we slept soundly. On the afternoon after the third night, I became overwhelmed with the sense of oppression surrounding the hospital, and began mentally walking the grounds of the building, praying and staking out territory for Christ to work, rebuking the influence of Satan in the name of Christ. On the morning after the fourth night, the hospital took the room away from us.

Last night, our daughter came under attack in the middle of the night. She had a dream where dark creatures were holding her down in her bed, pressing her into the mattress as they mocked her and laughed at her distress. She was watching as a third person, seeing herself struggle against these things and calling out to us. They were laughing and saying "they can't help you, they're in the other room". She began praying out loud in her sleep, and at the name of Jesus she came awake and bolt upright. She came to our room and woke us, and we gathered together to rebuke Satan in the name of Jesus, binding him from the house, and calling protection to Connor's room and around all of us.

You can think what you want - coincidence, indigestion, whatever - but this happened, it continues, and it is consistent with what I know about spiritual matters. I draw comfort from the fact that enemies don't attack where they don't need to, but rather they face off against things that threaten. I am convinced that God is doing a mighty work here, something bigger than all of us, and the bad guys don't like it and are trying to stop it.

Here's the choices - you can shrug your shoulders, say that Eric has finally gone off the deep end, and ignore this. Or, you can step into the fray and fly Combat Prayer Patrol for us. We need the physical, spiritual and emotional protection that comes from God alone. We need spiritual help to meet spiritual threats. We need to be able to rest in the peace of God in the midst of a battle, so we can think, so we can pray, so we can fight.

Thank you for your prayer coverage.

Day 13/14 - June 28/29 - Sitrep

Sitrep. Back when I was driving submarines for the North Pacific Yacht Club, we reported our status by situation reports...sitreps. Everything was abbreviated or acronym-ed, I think it was actually a law in the Navy. So when the phone rang at 'oh-dark-thirty', as we used to say, I dumped about two quarts of adrenaline trying to figure out who I was, where I was, what I was doing there, and how to stop that infernal ringing. Since that core experience was central to my years in the Nav', I seem to fall back on the old, ingrained habits.

Sitrep. It was Eric. Connor has hit another bump in the road. Whenever he gets moved or adjusted, his oxygen saturation drops, and that's not good. It means there is/are problems in his lungs. Complications from the lake water, pneumonia, collapsed lung or lobes, at this point the staff isn't sure, but they are taking x-rays, etc., to find out.

It also means that Connor is being transferred to a rotating (?) bed of some sort that will allow him to be turned, rotated, folded, bent, spindled, and whatever as necessary to improve the situation with his lungs. Though we don't know the specifics, you can bet that it isn't going to be any joy ride, but it does seem necessary.

Don't know much more, other than Eric and Cherié have to struggle with this news, and Connor has to adapt while his lungs are worked on.

Pray for Connor - improved oxygen uptake, clear lungs, no collapsed lobes or lungs, comfort and rest, no depression, and courage to face the next hurdle.

Pray for the family - peace that surpasses all understanding, confidence in God and the actions of the staff, courage to stand beside Connor regardless of what comes next.

Brad
Michigan

Day 13 - June 28 - Wavering

OK, I don't know where to start.

Maybe at the beginning. Connor has been wrestling with despair today - like father, like son, I guess. I spoke at length with him about hope and faith - I told him of the words of hope we've received this past couple of weeks; I told him the things that many of you have said. I encouraged him with words of scripture, and with song, and we prayed together for strength in the face of this trial. I promised him that he and I would walk through this together, and you could see him set his face to the challenge again. It was both heartening and heart-rending at the same time.

I came out to the waiting room while some of Connor's friends visited with him (I think they were watching "Men in Black"). I fought against the welling loss of hope as the lie spread in my mind - "The website is over. All these people will have lost interest and left by this time next week. You'll be all alone before too long". Yes, I know it's a lie from the pit. Yes, I have to struggle to defeat it.

I go back in to see the boy. I tell him how much he encourages me and helps me in this time, too. His eyebrows raise - this is something he hasn't thought about, even though I'm telling him how much his story is moving people.

He hams for the camera a bit, spirits lifted again.

I come back to the waiting room to give Cherié some time with the boy. I doze off for a bit, and awake in a black and foul mood. I decide I'd better post this post, and as I type the word "Wavering" in the title, a pastor walks up and begins to talk to me. He's going on about how he's helped lots of people through the years in these kinds of situations, and I'm thinking "Yeah, right - ever have one of your own children paralyzed from the neck down?" I wring my hands together, wishing he'd go away and let me type. He keeps talking. I'm on the verge of asking him to leave me alone when I hear what he's saying - talking about how God tells us to cling to His promises; to believe that what we ask of Him is going to happen; how faith is an act of perceiving as reality that which hasn't been revealed to the senses. I got to thinking about how close to the edge I was - how close to giving up I was - how much I wanted to just let go. And I got to thinking (again) about a daily ration of manna, even from an unexpected source.

To paraphrase the Apostle Paul, O wretched man that I am! Who will save me from this perpetual torment?

Psalm 121 - A song of ascents.

1 I lift up my eyes to the hills - where does my help come from?

2 My help comes from the LORD, the Maker of heaven and earth.

3 He will not let your foot slip - he who watches over you will not slumber;

4 indeed, he who watches over Israel will neither slumber nor sleep.

5 The LORD watches over you - the LORD is your shade at your right hand;

6 the sun will not harm you by day, nor the moon by night.

7 The LORD will keep you from all harm - he will watch over your life;

8 the LORD will watch over your coming and going both now and forevermore.

Day 13 - June 28 - Perspective

I've had a few people call today to find out what is going on, since I didn't post this morning. I told them I had, and after checking again they saw the previous post. It dawned on me what was going on, so I thought I'd better let you know.

As I mentioned last night, Cherié and I are now staying in a host home about 15-20 minutes from the hospital. The house has no internet access (GASP!!!). I hadn't thought about it, but I've been in the habit of posting either late at night or first thing in the morning, which was easier at the hospital where I have full wireless access. Unfortunately, due to the situation at the house, I can't even check the comments on the blog there, much less post new data. So this morning I thought "I'll post at the hospital after I know what's going on", forgetting that many of you check on in the morning and evening due to your work schedules. I don't have the resources, time, and energy to try to arrange for internet access at the house, so for the short term I'm only going to be able to post while I'm here at the hospital.

I'm not telling you this because I'm looking the proverbial gift horse in the mouth, but rather so you can bear with me as my posts become somewhat restricted, time-wise. Access is not critical right now, and the home that we're in is a magnificent, gracious gift from some very dear people. I thank the Lord for them and for their offer.

I will continue to offer up all the information I have - but the timing of the posts may not be ideal. Please have patience and bear with me.

Day 13 - June 28 - A Small Step...

I spoke with the nurse at length about Connor's current condition. His neck is stabilized; he has his trach and his peg (feeding tube); and they are working on his pneumonia. Once they get his lung condition where they want it, he could be considered stable. Yesterday they had him on 100% oxygen to keep his saturation up - this morning it is at 50% and his saturation is still good. The nurse says that the desired level is below 40%, so we're almost there.

Once we get there, the rehab folks will get to work. On Monday we will meet with the discharge people to begin figuring out the whens, whats, and wheres for getting the boy closer to home. Be praying that God would be preparing the perfect spot for Connor closer to home - we have our eyes on Valley Medical Center, but God knows better than us. Please be praying that the perfect spot for Connor is available when the time comes. I'm praying that the perfect spot for him is upstairs in his own room at home.

Connor was asleep when I went in to see him today (how rude!), so I haven't spoken with him this morning. His granny says that he had a full night's sleep and is still resting peacefully, which is all good.

 

Prayer needs for this morning - that God would encourage Connor, teaching and comforting the boy with His word; that Cherie would remain healthy and encouraged; that our family would be strengthened through this trial, and not damaged; that God would see fit to restore Connor fully, with full use of his body and limbs, for His glory.

Let's go see what today brings...

Day 12 - June 27 - Day's End

Another day draws to a close. Connor now has a tracheotomy tube, a feeding tube in his stomach, and is in good spirits. We were having a bit of trouble trying to read his lips tonight, and his rolled eyes and grins showed that his parents are already trying his patience as we try to figure out what he's trying to tell us.  There's a prayer request - that he would not grow frustrated at the difficulties we'll face as we learn to communicate with him.

All in all, a day of some improvement. I continue to pray for his complete restoration, and I hope you are too. I find it too easy to rely on the medical stuff, so I continually gird myself to pray and plead for my son.

 

Tonight will be the first night that both Cherié and I will be removed from the immediate hospital environment. We will be staying about 20 minutes away at our host's home, which is further than we are comfortable being away. Although it will be difficult to be that far, we will enjoy being able to have a few minutes with Joélle. Cherié has a strong desire to grab both of her children, pull them close and cuddle on a big bed somewhere. Please pray that God would somehow soothe her during this time, and that it would not be long before she is granted that desire. Her mother's heart is aching for her kids.

Please pray for continued protection for Connor, and comfort for all of us tonight. Pray for continued improvement in Connor's physical condition - lungs, heart, nerves, muscles and mind. Pray for his spiritual comfort - that God would be his strong tower each step of this journey. And please continue to pray for God's miraculous touch on Connor's body. I desire to be like the centurion - 

When Jesus had entered Capernaum, a centurion came to him, asking for help. "Lord," he said, "my servant lies at home paralyzed and in terrible suffering." Jesus said to him, "I will go and heal him." The centurion replied, "Lord, I do not deserve to have you come under my roof. But just say the word, and my servant will be healed. For I myself am a man under authority, with soldiers under me. I tell this one, 'Go,' and he goes; and that one, 'Come,' and he comes. I say to my servant, 'Do this,' and he does it." 

Then Jesus said to the centurion, "Go! It will be done just as you believed it would." And his servant was healed at that very hour.

- Matthew 8:5-9, 13

This is my prayer tonight.

Day 12 - June 27 - Worship

I began writing an update about Connor's tracheotomy, but this is much more interesting. Quickly, Connor is so big they had to go back and put in a bigger trach tube, because the first one was too small. He's resting peacefully, sleeping off the sedatives. In his moments of lucidity, he seems pleased to be more comfortable without the tubes. Continue to pray that God would protect his lungs - they have a lot of stuff in them, including what they think is lake water, that they are trying to get out in order to help him breathe better.

God is ministering here in the waiting room as I type. These words were lifted up by Cherié and her guitar-wielding-warrior friend Jeanine just now - 

Blessed be Your name

In the land that is plentiful
Where the streams of abundance flow
Blessed be Your name

Blessed be Your name
When I'm found in the desert place
Though I walk through the wilderness
Blessed be Your name

Every blessing You pour out,

I turn back to praise
When the darkness closes in, Lord
Still I will say...

Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your name
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your glorious name

Blessed be Your name
When the sun's shining down on me

When the world's all as it should be
Blessed be Your name 

Blessed be Your name

On the road marked with suffering
Though there's pain in the offering
Blessed be Your name 

Every blessing You pour out,

I turn back to praise
When the darkness closes in, Lord
Still I will say...

Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your name
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your glorious name 

You give and take away

You give and take away
My heart will choose to say 
Lord, Blessed be Your name 

And all of the people in this room are singing, holding up their hands, worshipping the King. It's almost too much to bear, listening to the praise of the saints - saints who are in the midst of suffering, uncertainty, wrestling with despair, the possible loss of loved ones, and yet they - no, "we" - are weeping and shouting out as we sing "You give and take away, my heart will choose to say 'Lord, blessed be Your name' ". 

You guys are missing it - now we're singing "How great is our God".  I've gotta go...

Day 12 - June 27 - Encouragement

I had been speaking with Brad yesterday about my concerns while I was back at the house, and he observed that, since we're getting a healthy dose of "nothing happens apart from God's will" this week, it seemed likely that God had arranged for a night alone for me for a reason. Brad suggested that when I pray, I take the time to shut up and listen to what God had for me instead. That sounded like a good idea, so like the dutiful brother I am, I ignored him, praying diligently before I went to bed.

In the middle of the night, I awoke and began praying for the boy. I labored over my requests and concerns, and then decided to just listen to see what God wanted me to know. I told Him I would just listen. There was no thundering (or whispering) voice; the Glory of the Lord didn't shine about me; but as I lay there, a verse was suddenly in my head - "I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me". Hmmm, says I. I sure don't feel like it, Lord.

That's when the music started. Not out loud, but deep inside my empty head - "Hold fast, help is on the way. Hold fast, He comes to save the day". Somewhere in my wonder at all this, I slipped back asleep.

God is good, right? So this morning, I awake, fighting against my despair as I get ready to head back to Fresno. During my morning ablations, I suddenly find myself driven to my knees, pleading with my Father for my son. I find myself praying with power and authority, knowing that as His child, I have the right to boldly approach His throne of grace.

Wow, right? So half an hour later, I'm headed down the road, in fear for my son, and I realize that I have no uplifting music in the car - I had recently changed CDs and I had all the Wilson Pickett, George Thorogood, and Golden Earring I needed; but very little of the music that would help. So I switch on the radio, and I hear these words sung by Kutless - "You are my strong tower, a shelter over me".

So my Father provides, a bit at a time, to carry us one more step on the journey.

I didn't make it back to the hospital before they took Connor for his tracheotomy and feeding tube surgery this morning. When I heard that I was going to miss him before he went in, I began to weep as it sank in that Connor hadn't seen his Dad before this procedure. Not a good idea on a highway, but still...

I arrived at the hospital safely, and got to see the boy after the procedure. While he's uncomfortable, I'm lifted by how happy he is to not have tubes in his mouth and nose anymore. The respiratory therapist is struggling to clear the fluids from Connor's lungs; the nurse is telling us that Connor has pneumonia; the doctors have to go back in and place a larger tracheotomy tube because his saturation level isn't coming back up to where it needs to be, which may mean he won't be able to have a speaking valve fitted; the news tosses us to and fro, washing us around on deck like waves pouring over the ship. The Perfect Storm is upon us, crashing about us, tossing us in the wind, burying us under tons of water from which we struggle to arise. We hold fast to our Lifeline, because it's all we have left. To hold on may mean we perish; to let go is to certainly die.

"How long, O LORD ? Will you forget me forever? 

How long will you hide your face from me?

How long must I wrestle with my thoughts 

and every day have sorrow in my heart? 
How long will my enemy triumph over me? 

Look on me and answer, O LORD my God. 
Give light to my eyes, or I will sleep in death; 

my enemy will say, "I have overcome him," 

and my foes will rejoice when I fall. 

But I trust in your unfailing love; 

my heart rejoices in your salvation. 

I will sing to the LORD, for he has been good to me."

- Psalm 13

Day 12 - June 27 - On His Way to Surgery

Just got off the phone - Connor is on his way to surgery, for the tracheotomy and feeding tube that was planned over the last couple of days.

Eric reported Connor in good spirits, and that the fever of yesterday was not present, both answers to prayer. Doctors have told Connor that they would expect him out of the collar in a few days, and able to be moved to a chair to sit up for a while, which having been on his back staring at the ceiling for the last week and a half, would be a huge blessing.

Pray for success in surgery, pain management for Connor, and continued moments of encouragement.

Like sunbeams through the leaves in a dark forest, each moment of encouragement is savored and enjoyed by the family.

Brad
Michigan

Day 11 - June 26 - Away

As I write this, I am back at my home and away from my boy. I am going to go climb into bed soon, but before I do I want to ask you to pray for Connor tonight. He seems to be struggling with the same despair I wrestle, and his spirits are sinking tonight. Please pray that God would speak words of encouragement and hope to him; that God would comfort him there in the hospital room; that God would protect him from all forms of spiritual attack; and that God would provide for all of Connor's needs. Also, please continue to pray for complete healing, and specifically that God would restore Connor's lung capabilities in time to prevent having to have the tracheotomy, which is scheduled for tomorrow. 

Lord, I ask that you grant my son peace tonight; that you would hold him as a shepherd holds his sheep, and comfort him as a mother comforts a sick child. I ask that you would envelope him in Your grace. Remind him that You are a strong tower; the righteous run in to it and are saved. Protect him from evil intention, from sickness, and from despair. Lift his spirits, and walk closely with him. Carry him when he's weak, but strengthen him with hope. I ask that You would intervene and strengthen his lungs and muscles in such a way that the tracheotomy is unnecessary. Most of all, Lord, I ask that you would restore my son and set him upright again. I pray that you would bring Connor to the place where, standing on his own two feet, he must always remember that he has been redeemed by Your hand twice. I claim his healing in the precious name of Jesus...

Amen. So be it.

Day 11 - June 26 - Fever and infection - prayer needed

Pneumonia and staph infection are moving through the ICU. Connor is now running a fever. Please pray protection for him so that he may devote his energy to healing the important stuff, instead of fighting the other things.

Thank you.

Day 11 - June 26 - God is faithful

The next day. Another step. Connor is alert, feeling some pain, and watching TV a bit. He looks good. I noticed this morning that in his hospital smock coming down to his knees, and pressure boots that look a lot like those sandals that have straps up your calves, he is the spitting image of an Old Testament warrior. He looks like what I imagine one of David's mighty men would look like. You can just picture him rising up and smiting his enemies. It was an encouraging glimpse of the powerful things Connor has ahead of him.

I need to tell you how God is being faithful to us. First, each of you are holding us up in prayer, a great, comforting blanket that wraps around us and soothes our cares. Second, many, many of you are coming forward with offers of physical support in every shape, color and size - sustenance for our physical needs, if you will. Finally, God is with us, speaking to us in His scripture, in songs and hymns, in poetry and the gentle words of fellow believers, and occasionally, through more direct ways. I wanted to tell you about one of these.

Yesterday morning, another family joined us in the waiting room. They were friends and family of a young lady who had been in a car accident. I was feeling oppressed and had been reading scripture when they came in, but stopped to talk with them and pray with them for a bit. Boy, was I surprised to find that God wasn't intending for me to comfort them, but for the young lady's father to minister to me! This fellow, an ex-Marine brother in Christ named Tod, spoke with authority of God's power in these times of trial. His passion and faith filled the waiting room, and I found myself sitting on the floor at his feet as his faith in his God reminded us of God's faithfulness to His children. Wow!

The story gets better - a few minutes later, Cherié came in with the news about Connor's angiogram, along with its potential outcomes. As we scampered down to the other waiting room to pray, I found Tod trotting next to me. About eight of us gathered in the other waiting room and knelt down to pray. I felt like we invaded the waiting room, but as we started to pray a sense of power filled the room. God used Tod to pray powerfully for my son, and I soon found that it wasn't us who had invaded the waiting room, but rather the Spirit of God. I don't think I've ever heard someone pray in such a power- and faith-filled way. It was a fantastic few moments of communion with our Father and my fellow believers, and almost overwhelming. You already know the outcome of the test, but it was most clearly an answer to prayer.

I'm sure you realize that this isn't about Tod - it's about our God. I just wanted to share with you how God is providing for us each moment. It makes me ashamed at how often I find myself wrestling with my despair, when the blatant evidence of God's provision is so clearly laid out around me.

I would ask that you also take time to lift up Tod's daughter, Vanessa. In fact, I've learned through this episode that there are many, many hopeless and struggling people sitting in a hospital near you, right this minute. They need the ministering touch of God's people. Think about it.

Day 10 - June 25 - Off the Pace

OK, I went into Connor's room to check on him.  He was completely out, still under the influence of the sedatives from his angio and CT scans, and unresponsive to my voice. I stood there for a few minutes, just looking at his beautiful, freckle-filled face.  As I watched, I glanced at his vital statistics and noticed that his heart rate was steady in the mid-sixties.  Knowing that they have had Connor's pacemaker set to trigger at 45 beats/minute, I glanced at the pacemaker to see its setting - and it wasn't on. Startled, I took a closer look - and there were no wires between the pacemaker and Connor! After looking at the monitor about 15 times to make sure I was really seeing it, I hunted down the nurse. She told me that since Connor had not needed it for a day or so, they had turned it off, and he has been holding steady since then.

Praise the Lord! What another great answer to prayer. We will continue to pray for a stabilized heart rate, but I rejoice in this small positive step.

God is moving and working all over the world, using my son to challenge people's faith, encourage the desperate, and draw His children closer to Him. Makes me wish I had one of those maps with the stick-pins to show where everyone who is following this story is located!

Day 10 - June 25 - Results are in

The same doctor (that told Cherié how bad the possibilities of the tests were) just came out and told us that everything was just great! Praise the Lord! When we thanked the doctor for the news, he said "it wasn't me".

He was right - it wasn't him!

Day 10 - June 25 - Angiogram Prayer Request

It's 11:40 in Fresno, and Eric just told me that Connor is going in for his angiogram, and the doctors have informed him that there is a risk of stroke if a clot is dislodged.

Please pray for success in the angiogram, wisdom and prudence and skill on the doctor's part, and that Connor would return from this surgery with no additional ill consequences.

Brad
Michigan

Day 10 - June 25 - Prayer Requests

Last evening we rolled up onto that part of the rollercoaster where the ride levels off for a bit. You know more ups, downs, twists, and turns are coming; but for a brief moment everything is stable.

This morning when we walked into Connor's room, two nurses and the respiratory therapist were scurrying back and forth. His lungs have gotten stuff in them because he was on his stomach for four hours yesterday, and they were trying to ensure he was breathing well. His O2 saturation was down, and the respiratory therapist has some concern that one of his lungs may have partially collapsed. It may also be stuff loosened during surgery yesterday, but the chest X-ray isn't conclusive. So they cleaned it out, and will check his chest more closely during his angiogram later today.

They will be doing an angiogram to confirm the status of his arteries, as we discussed yesterday.  Please pray for a positive outcome.

Prayer requests for Connor -

- A completely clean and positive result on the tests today, both with his arteries and his lungs

- Increased and stable oxygen levels

- Complete lung function to return so he can get off the respirator

- Clear, healthy lungs and a removal of phlegm

- That his digestive tract, in its entirety, will work well and efficiently

- Proper, steady heart beat without mechanical assistance

- That he would be protected from infection in his surgical wounds, in his lungs, and everywhere in his body

- That the swelling in his neck would quickly reduce and that the pressure on his spinal cord would decrease

- That the contusions on Connor's spinal cord would be healed, and that all feeling and function would be restored to his body.  I believe my God is going to set my son upright again!

- That God would surround Connor with nurses and staff who refuse to be negative, who will speak of the future hope and faith

- That God will protect Connor for spiritual attack in these days when he is so physically weak

- That the Holy Spirit would comfort Connor in these days

Pray also that God would be glorified and magnified before the eyes of the medical staff here. We believe God is going to do great things, and we're praying that God will confound the wise in this place.

Day 9 - June 24 - I forgot the photo!

Day 9 - June 24 - He's awake!

He's awake! When we went into the room, we very quietly whispered to the nurse - "Is he awake?". She looked at us, smiled and said "oh, yes, he wanted to watch baseball, so he's watching TV". Sure enough, the game was on, the sound was playing next to his ear, and when I walked between him and the TV his eyes followed me! Praise the Lord!

We only allowed a couple of folks in tonight to see him - myself and Cherié, Joélle, and his closer-than-a-brother, Josh, who arrived today to see him for the first time (he was out of state and couldn't get back until now).  When Josh and Joélle walked in, Connor's eyes opened wide, his brow raised, and he grinned a HUGE grin around his breathing tube.

There's nothing else I can say - thank you, Lord.  Thank you.

Day 9 - June 24 - Surgery Part 2

Connor is out of surgery.  The surgeon was extremely pleased with how well everything turned out.  He said everything went as well as he could have hoped.  The vertebrae are now solidly fused together in their correct alignment, Connor's torn disc has been cleaned out and replaced with a spongy washer-like thingy, and everything is buttoned back up.  The nurses just called and told us he is back on his way to his room, although we haven't been able to see him yet.  

The doctor did express a bit of concern - apparently one of the technical doctors at the lab thought that one of Connor's vertebral arteries was partially occluded.  Both neurosurgeons, and the chief vascular surgeon all concurred that a) they thought it was the artery wrapping around the edge of the vertebrae, and b) that the least worst thing they could do was to go ahead with the surgery.  We found out about this when the surgeon told us, after the surgery, that all we needed to do now was "hope he woke up".  Since he was coherent, alert, and responsive before the surgery this morning (while his arteries were still in the condition they were in during the CT Scan), and since the fate of our son is in the hands of the Great Physician, we are waiting patiently until we can see him.

God is good - the surgery was as successful as it possibly could be. One step is behind us. We'll keep you posted of the next thing.   We love you all!

Day 9 - June 24 - Surgery

Connor went into surgery this morning, being taken downstairs at 0800.  We prayed and waited throughout the morning, trusting God for His provision. Surprisingly, I am not overwhelmingly concerned with the surgery itself. God has given me confidence in His use of the surgeon's skills, knowledge, and abilities. I continue to wrestle with despair about the future, despite God's clear instruction:

"Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own." - Matthew 6:34.

About noon, the neurosurgeon came out with some X-rays.  He showed us the screws and rods that have been inserted into Connor's vertebrae, which makes the inside of his neck look like something out of The Terminator (although without the Austrian accent). The doctor then told us that the first half went very well, and that they would be starting the second half as soon as he returned to the OR. Yesterday he had said that the first part of the surgery was harder than the second, so we rest in the fact that God is providing even as we go along. The surgeon told us the second part would last about three hours, so we are waiting while I post this, eager for this step to be completed.

I have to say we're confident in the outcome of the surgery. God has laid out all the tools he needs so that He can provide for Connor's needs through the hands of men.  But I also don't want to give you the false idea that we're sitting here all smiley.  I know we keep asking for this, but please pray: 

- that God would use this surgery to set Connor on the road to recovery;

- that He would prevent any surgical complications from impacting Connor's recovery;

- that He would allow the fusion of Connor's vertebrae to cause the swelling to decrease and feeling and movement to return;

- that God would strengthen us daily to trust Him, to draw close to Him and to each other;

- and (for me), to resist the temptation to despair.  Cherié and Joélle have been gifted with the ability to see positives in so many things, while the negatives leap out at me.  This causes despair on my part, frustration for Cherié, and fear for Joélle as she sees her father so shaken.  As the person they look to for spiritual leadership and maturity, I need the resolve and fortitude, the perseverance and faith, to effectively be the man they need me to be.  I cannot do this apart from Christ, and I am appalled at my weakness.  Lord, help my unbelief!

Who says God doesn't appreciate irony? While I typed that last sentence, one of the OR nurses came out to tell us how well things were going, and how pleased the neurosurgeon is with the way things are going.  She also expressed how thankful she was to be able to do what she does. God is good to us. He remains faithful.

That reminds me - I want God to pour out His sustenance on us so that we are swimming in His provision. A friend reminded me that God only provided enough manna to the Israelites to see them through each day, in order to remind them how much they must rely on Him. So while we are stuck in the desert right now, we remember that tomorrow morning there will be another provision of manna, with the Pillar of Fire to guide us on our journey.

Baby steps to the holy land, baby steps to the holy land...

Day 8 - June 23 - I TOLD you it was a rollercoaster...

...and the ride takes another twist.

We just spoke with the neurosurgeon. First, he displayed the most positive attitude I've seen on him.  He told us a number of things - first, he explained what was going on with Connor's vertebrae. Before, both sides of the vertebrae were out of place. When everything realigned, both sides were back in place. Then one side slipped back, so that's where it is right now. They've got Connor back with 10 pounds of traction to hold things where they are, and the surgeon is confident that the one side isn't a problem for them - it was having both sides out that was the issue before.

He then told us that he and his fellow neurosurgeon, who is also the vascular surgeon, went over today's CT Scan slice by slice, and they both agree - both of his vertebral arteries are "clean and clear". I asked for clarification and he confirmed - there are no tears in either artery, and no clot. As far as the vascular stuff is concerned, they are good to go for surgery. There was an additional positive, in that the side of the vertebrae that remains in place is the side that had the pinched artery, so that's very good. So he was upbeat about that.

He did tell us that there was bad news, too. I tensed. He said "he has had a stroke". I fainted. OK, I didn't quite faint, but I felt like it. The doctor told us that it happened a while ago, maybe as long ago as the time of the injury. It's small, and he says it affected a part of the brain that "doesn't control much, that we know of". He was very upbeat about the potentialities, saying that Connor has been equally responsive all along, and says that he is "right there" when the doctor talks to him. Overall, he described everything as "four steps forward, one step back".

Connor goes to surgery in the morning. He will be taken downstairs at 0700, with the surgery beginning between 0730 and 0800 PDT and lasting all day long. They will go in the back of his neck, make sure the vertebrae are in the proper position, and insert screws and rods to secure the joint. Once that is done, they'll flip him over "like a pancake", in the doctor's words, and go in from the front.  In there, they will remove the torn disc between Connor's C4 and C5, replace it with a prosthesis, and then install plates to secure the front.

The doctor has done a lot of these, and seems intelligent and confident.  He is sharp, which is a trait much desired in the tools the Master uses.

Please pray that God's will be done in this surgery. Please pray that Connor sustains no more damage from these procedures. Please pray that God sustain him, and us, during the days ahead.

Forgive me for my convoluted, ever-changing blogs. I apologize for twisting everyone's emotions back and forth. I only report what's happening!

Day 8 - June 23 - He gives and takes away

Well, they say that God moves in mysterious ways.  I'd really like to figure it out sometime.

Connor's spine has moved back out of alignment.  Not as far as it was, apparently, but it's no longer lined up.  Additionally, they have discovered more information about his vascular status. The artery that was pinched has turned out to be torn as well.  The other one, the one with the clot, may also be severed, according to the trauma surgeon.  It's either a clot which is apparently still there, or it's been severed and the ends are clotted together.  Either way, it's not particularly good (understatement of the year). The vertebral arteries join up before they go into the brain.  If the tear were to get worse and reach the juncture, that would not be particularly good, either - the rear of the brain is where the functions of balance and coordination lie.  We are really praying that God would protect all of his brain functions.

Enough of the physiology lesson.  Connor is scheduled for surgery first thing in the morning.  There's still some question about whether this is the best course of action, and the neurosurgeon will make that determination after the CT Scan comes back and he evaluates it.  There are multiple concerns involved - they need to align the spine and stabilize it, which means they need to manipulate Connor's neck. This may cause more damage to his vertebral arteries.  If they fixed the arteries first, the stents they have to use are semi-rigid, which means that they can't withstand much movement - movement that they would need to do in order to put his spine right.  So they're evaluating whether it's more dangerous to manipulate the neck first, or fix the arteries first.

Now is a really good time to remember that God's ways are unfathomable, his knowledge is far beyond ours, and his love is deeper than I can imagine.

Please continue to pray.  I will update as I can.

Day 8 - June 23 - "I guess miracles do happen!"

My brothers are right - this kind of news has to be blogged by me, not them. They feel the pressure to not miss anything in translation, but like a game of "telephone", things can get mis-spoken inadvertently.  

Kent's blog "The first hurdle has been cleared" is correct in its detail, but I feel the need to clarify a bit. No offense, Kent!  I've been covering for you since we were wee lads!

Kent wasn't in the room, and I was, so I need to convey to you the power this moment had. I felt a pang of pity as this highly intelligent and greatly skilled neurosurgeon struggled to explain why, 15 minutes earlier, he had been explaining the course of action necessary to unlock Connor's vertebrae, and now he's trying to explain the unexplainable - he doesn't need to straighten the vertebrae anymore!

"For some reason", Connor's vertebrae are now aligned.  Hallelujah!  "For some reason", between the X-ray this morning and the latest, the vertebrae unlocked from each other, moved to the right place, and allowed Connor's spinal cord to lose it's S-bend.  Praise the Lord!

The beauty of this moment is that we are familiar with The Reason. Even more, Cherié and I were very specifically praying that Connor's spine would realign by today, as were many of you. Wow! What an answer to prayer.

As we were standing in the doorway to Connor's room, praising God for this answer to prayer, we overheard the surgeon speaking to one of the nurses.  We couldn't hear what he said, but her response was "Well, I guess miracles do happen!"

Yes, they do.

Day 8 - June 23 - An update between the rapids

Like on a rafting trip, our trip with Connor has rapids and falls.  But it also has periods of relative calm between these adrenaline-filled, bumpy moments. We're in one of those periods right now - gently floating down the river, with but a few words and pushes from our Guide as we navigate the journey; weaving around the few boulders and snags, hearing the rapids drawing closer.

Because of this pause, we've taken some time to attend to some (for lack of a better word) administrative tasks - blog and web upkeep, on the part of Brad and Kent; and Cherié, Joélle and I have been able to give some attention to acknowledging the support we've been receiving. Now it's time to get you updated on where the boy is at...

Connor has remained in a relatively stable state for the last few days.  He is not, however, "stabilized" - none of his original injuries have been addressed. To my knowledge, his shoulders remain dislocated, the vascular damage remains to be assessed, and the status of the blood clot remains unknown. His C4 and C5 vertebrae remain misaligned.  He remains on the respirator and pacemaker. His heart rate, respiration rate, and blood pressure remain steady and good. He is heavily sedated and on paralysis-inducing medication. His neck has been under 45 pounds of traction for three or four days (my time scale is skewed) in an attempt to realign his C4 and C5 vertebrae, but so far this has been unsuccessful. 

The last few X-rays have shown no significant change in his bones.  The doctors are considering surgery Tuesday to get the bones in alignment, so that they can assess and address all the other problems as well. Trust me, we WILL let everyone know before any surgery begins.  Again, we covet your prayers.

So that's where the boy is right now. Now I want to share something that happened yesterday between me and my son.  Please understand that I share this, not to draw attention to any one person, but to draw attention to One Person (don't worry, you'll get it as we go along)...

Yesterday I went into Connor's room, said "hi" to him, and did what I do each time I go in - I raised his eyelids, leaned back a bit to give him a bit of focus, and said "Hi son, I love you". When we do this, his eyes don't move or anything. I closed his eyes, and did the second thing I do each time I come in - I leaned down by his ear and said "If you can hear me, move your eyebrows".  He twitched his eyebrows in acknowledgment.  Then a thought came to me, and I said "Connor, if you could see me when I opened your eyes, move your eyebrows".  His eyebrows moved!  I leapt up, opened his eyes, and waved at him as I smiled and shouted "Hi buddy!  I love you!!!"  Then I closed his eyes again and told him I had something to tell him.

I asked "Connor, do you know who Mike Singletary is?"  Eyebrow twitch.  "Yeah, the Bears player, now coaching with the Niners?" Twitch. "Mike Singletary is standing in the gap for you, praying for you right now.  He's not alone - an entire village in Romania is praying for you, right this minute. An entire village in Cambodia is praying for you, right this minute. A village in Zambia is lifting you up, right this minute. Churches in Texas, in Kansas, in California, in Michigan, in Virginia; churches all over the country and all over the world are praying for you.  People all over the world are lifting you up and praying for you, because of the mighty work God is doing through your story. While you lie hear in this bed, the Spirit of God is working in the hearts of many, many people, and He's using your story to do it."

I looked at my boy.  Tears were streaming out of his eyes!  He heard - he understood - he was moved.  It was such a blessing to me, and he and I shared a few moments of worship and prayer before the nurse came in.  What a blessing God gives to His children.

Please don't think I tell this story only because Mike Singletary figures in it. I'm sure that Mike wants no glory from this, and he'd probably be the first to tell you that his prayers for Connor are neither more nor less effective than those of any other saint, known or unknown. I tell this story because Connor is also a young man who loves football, who is familiar with the culture in which he lives, and Mike's name has an impact for him. I find it telling that his tears began to flow not from hearing Mike's name, but from hearing the widespread prayer support rising to the Throne of God on his behalf.

Take encouragement from this story - our God is a mighty God, powerful to heal, awesome in gloriousness.  Praise Him as you lift your prayers for my son.

Day 7 - June 22 - Ready, OK!

I had a pretty good visual image this morning that fits into what I want to say, so here goes...

Have you ever seen one of those cheerleading competitions? One where these teams of perky people stack themselves up to the sky into all sorts of formations? I'm pretty convinced that if I tried this with my friends and family, we'd pull a big "humpty-dumpty" and all come tumbling down. It takes these folks a lot of work, skill and a good coach to put together these things so that they work right.

Now here's the image - there's this big pyramid of people. At the bottom is this great big layer of strong, sturdy folks, interlacing their arms so they can stand the strain of all that's placed upon their shoulders. Standing on their shoulders is a smaller group of folks, again bracing against each other to spread the load downward in an even and balanced way. On those folks' shoulders, there are two or three people - once again leaning into each other in order to support the weight that the coach has decided will be carried by them. Finally, at the pinnacle of the pyramid, there's one tiny soul, perched dangerously high above the ground. As long as every member of the squad does exactly what the coach has dictated as their role, the person at the top is secure, and the crowd roars, the judges smile, and the trophies are handed out.

What I'm trying to say is that Connor is the tiny, pig-tailed cheerleader at the top. He is being directly supported by his family, Cherié, Joélle and I. We, in turn, are depending on both each other and our next layer of support, our family and friends - Brad and Kent with the blog; the friends who flock to our side to feed us, clothe us, and house us; and all our friends and family who are praying unceasingly for Connor and for us. Finally, this group is completely being held up and supported by the steady, faithful, unceasing prayer being offered up on our behalf by a very, very large group of individuals; most of whom do not know us, have not met us, and only help because of one thing - the direction of our Coach, the One who designed this pyramid, who brought the participants together, who developed the skills in each of us to fulfill our role, and who orchestrates the whole, seemingly precarious balance.

I cannot do justice to the list of people I owe for their great, great service to me and mine. I am astonished at how God has brought people together from every part of the world, from every walk of life, from both well-known and unknown walks, to gather together in prayer for my son and for what God is doing through his ordeal. I could never begin to thank you for what you are doing for us, so I must be satisfied that one day in eternity, I'll shake your individual hands and give you a big hug in gratitude for your service to God, and through Him, to my boy, my family, and to me.

Thank you, friends. Thank you for your faithfulness. Thank you for your selflessness. Thank you for your endurance, your perseverance, and your obedience. Thank you for your gifts, your thoughts, your comfort, and most importantly, your prayers. We continue to covet them, and we thank and praise the Lord for His provision through your hearts and hands.

Day 6 - June 21 - Last update before bed

We've gotten a bit more clarification about what's going on, and I wanted to pass it on to everyone before I headed off to bed - err, "floor". We're trying to make it an early night and get some desperately needed rest.

The spinal manipulation is slowly moving things in the right direction. Emphasis on the word "slowly". I think the bloodletters are a bit amazed that this process hasn't only taken an hour. Connor is heavily sedated still, so after I prayed and sang with him I took the opportunity to speak at length with the nurse. While she's not the doctor, she was able to give me some general information which sheds some light.

First, the pacemaker only fires off when Connor's heartrate drops below 45. This has happened occasionally, but not often. I was under the impression that it was continuous, so the fact that it is only when necessary comforts me. The nurse tells me that the reason for the erratic heart and lung function is most likely due to swelling at the injury sight, and should clear up as that goes down. Good news.

Second, the motivation for aligning the spine is not to align the spinal cord, as I had supposed. Instead, it is to align the vascular system in that area. They know there is vascular damage - the pinched vertebral artery, the blood clot - plus the potential for the veins and arteries to have stretched during the injury, with a possible weakening of the vessel walls. This means that they need to evaluate the damage and repair it as necessary - to them, the spinal stuff is of secondary importance.

Cherié, Joélle and I, as well as the many people here with us, have been given great opportunity to minister to the families of many of the other ICU patients. It is exciting to see how people become much more open to hearing the grace of God when they come face to face with such devastation in their lives. Pray for us to be effective ministers of His grace to these families who must share this journey.

God bless you for your prayers.

Day 6 - June 21 - Saturday Night Prayer Requests

I just got off the phone with Eric... we had a two minute conversation. He and Cherié were in the middle of some time with the family of one of the boys in the unit next to Connor.

• Pray for that boy and his family. They had a very rough day. Pray that Eric & Cherié can be just what Christ needs them to be for this other family.

• The Doctors are still attempting to use the traction to manipulate Connor's spine. Pray that it works. Ask God specifically for it to work so they won't have to attempt it manually.

• Eric mentioned concern over Connor's vascular system. Pray over this for Connor.

• Eric mentioned the possible need for stents. I would assume that this would be for the damaged artery in Connor's neck, but I'm uncertain. Pray for the Doctors that they will be wise as they make these decisions.

• Continue to pray that the blood clot would no longer be an issue.

• Eric did say that Conner is resting... as much as someone can rest with their head three inches off the pillow due to traction. Pray for rest for all of them.

Goodnight from Virginia,

Kent

Day 6 - June 21 - Pacing

Connor has been connected to a pacemaker.  His heart has been erratically beating for over a day, now.  The doctors had given him an injection of some wonder-cocktail of medicines that were supposed to help stabilize his heartrate, but that has apparently not worked.  As a result, the decision was made to connect him to the pacemaker in order to regulate his blood pressure, which I understand was the primary concern.  I've been pretty concerned when Connor's heartrate dropped to 20 per minute, but the doctors are actually more concerned with continuing a steady blood pressure to support his other organs.

As a result, Connor's heart is now stabilized mechanically, like his lungs before it.  As I understand it, this is not "life support" - the machines aren't "keeping him alive", they're helping regulate his body's functions while it attempts to heal.  Cherie, Joelle and I have an additional view -

In I Kings 18, Elijah is in a monster face-off with 450 prophets of Baal.  The challenge is to decide, once and for all, who is the real God.  Elijah is the last of God's prophets, and the test is to build two altars and set up two sacrifices, and then let the real God provide the fire.  It's sort of like an Old Testament Smackdown.  What happens is that the 450 Baal dudes build their altar, then spend all morning wailing and praying and jumping around, trying to get Baal to pay attention and light the altar's fire.  I find it interesting that Elijah spends most of the time taunting them, a practice that, while not encouraged, certainly has it's appeal now and then.  Anyway, they finally give up in frustration, altar not lit, sacrifice unconsumed.  Then it's Elijah's turn.  In true Old Testament fashion, Elijah isn't content to let well enough alone - he enlists the Baal dudes to carry water up, soaking the sacrifice, wood, and altar with water. Then he decides that isn't enough, so he soaks it down again, and again, until the water runs down the altar and fills the trench around the altar.  Finally, he asks this - to let it be known that God is God and that he is God's prophet, so that the people would return to God.

Guess what - fire springs down from heaven.  Not a measly little lightning strike, either, but a massive column of the fire of God swept down.  When the dust cleared, the sacrifice, the wood, the water in the ditch, the stones of the altar, and even the dirt were gone.  And everybody blinked, looked at each other, and pretty much got the message.

We believe that respirators and pacemakers are given to stabilize our son during this difficult time for him.  But we also believe that they are the water over the sacrifice; running down the stones, filling the ditch; so that there can be no possible doubt Who has done what when my boy walks again.

That will be an excellent birthday present.

Day 5 - June 20 - Hopeful Day

I just hung up with Eric... he summarized by saying it was a hopeful day.

Connor's spine is slowly moving back in the direction the doctors want it to be. Which means that the paralytic drugs are doing their magic. They've taken a couple more X-rays, but Eric hadn't seen them yet.

Eric did say that after the nurses left he talked to Connor (in his drug-induced, paralized, near comatose state). Eric said "if you hear me, move your eyebrows." Connor moved his eyebrows. So Eric continued to talk and sing to him.

A couple of people visiting told Eric that when they held Connor's hand his hand twitched in theirs.

Then Joelle and a friend were sitting in Connor's room and Joelle was rubbing his feet (which sounds like the job every big sister wants!). She said to Connor, "if you can feel this, raise your eyebrows." And guess what... he raised his eyebrows.

The wrestling match between Hope & False Hope continues for certain, but overall Eric said it was a hopeful day. Pray for more days like this!

Kent

back home in Virginia

Day 5 - June 20 - Kansas?

Today at noon, the medicos asked to speak to Cherie and I.  We went into Connor's room with our now-usual fear of impending bad news.  The nurse explained that they wanted our permission to administer drugs to Connor that would effectively paralyze him completely. After the initial shock of that request, we were able to listen while they explained the circumstances - apparently the normal person's neck, in a situation like Con's, will reset under about 25 pounds of traction.  Connor has had 40 pounds of traction on his neck for nearly three days, and his neck is not straightening out.  They explained that they wanted to put him into a state where his muscles have no choice but to relax and allow his bones to move (for those who don't know him, Connor's neck is about as big around as my leg - he's built like a bull). Apparently he is strong enough that he has held this 40 pounds in the air by his broken neck for almost three days.

So anyway, after discussing the ramifications, we agreed to the procedure, and Connor is currently in that state.  He is heavily sedated and they are standing by with the X-ray machine, in order to confirm the neck's realignment.  We are told that the process, assuming the X-ray confirms the realignment, will take an hour or two, after which he can be allowed to come off of the paralyzing medication.

Please pray that Connor suffers no ill effects from the procedure or the medication.  Pray that Connor's neck will realign, and that this will allow his spinal cord to begin to function correctly again.  Pray that the manipulation of his neck will allow his blood vessels to safely begin providing bloodflow to all parts of his body.  Pray that realignment will allow him to be stabilized.  Please pray specifically that Connor will be protected from damage which might be caused by moving his bones around like this.

My son is in my God's gentle, competent, and compassionate hands.  Whom shall I fear?

So what does that have to do with Kansas, anyway?  Here's what - God has been giving us songs in moments of need.  Today, the song that came into Cherie's head had these lyrics...

"Carry on, my wayward son -

there'll be peace when you are done.

Lay your weary head to rest.

Don't you cry no more."

Can God use Kansas to bring comfort to his children?  

Apparently.

Day 5 - June 20 - Admin Prayer Request

I'm posting this because Brad can't. It seems that there's been some sort of technical problem, and the guy who is administering this entire blog (my big brother, Brad) can no longer access the blog admin functions. He and the server administrators have been unable to locate the problem. He asked me to pray about it in order to keep the blog functioning correctly, and I could think of no better way to do so than to enlist the aid of the very folks who are relying on the blog for updates and encouragement.

Please pray specifically that Brad would regain the administrative access necessary to effectively run the blog, in order for it to be as effective as the Holy Spirit wants it to be.

Day 5 - June 20 - Hold Fast

My God is good.  He blesses me with hope even in the darkest night.  For those who do not know, I have a tattoo on my left forearm.  It's comprised of two words surrounding the symbol "pi".  The pi sign represents the constancy of my God, and binds me and my memory closely to Him and to my daughter.  The two words embracing the pi sign are "Hold Fast".  It's an old nautical term that loosely means "grab onto that rope and don't let go, even if you think it means your life.  Because it probably does mean your life if you do let go".  I've been fascinated with the phrase for years, and finally turned sailor long enough to get a tattoo of it.

Last night, I heard the song of that name (by Mercy Me) on K-Love.  The lyrics have always meant much to me, but it was exactly the perfect song to hear at that particular moment.  Here are the lyrics -

To everyone who's hurting
To those who've had enough
To all the undeserving
That should cover all of us
Please do not let go
I promise there is hope

Hold fast
Help is on the way
Hold fast
He's come to save the day
What I've learned in my life
One thing greater than my strife
Is His grasp
So hold fast

Will this season ever pass?
Can we stop this ride?
Will we see the sun at last?
Or could this be our lot in life?
Please do not let go
I promise you there's hope

You may think you're all alone
And there's no way that anyone could know
What you're going through
But if you only hear one thing
Just understand that we are all the same
Searching for the truth
The truth of what we're soon to face
Unless someone comes to take our place
Is there anyone?
All we want is to be free
Free from our captivity, Lord
Here He comes

I pray it blesses you as it blesses me.

Day 5 - June 20 - The view from the front seat

God is taking my family somewhere. I don't know where; I don't know how fast; I don't have directions. I don't know if my heart's desire, to see my boy fully restored, is on the itinerary. And so I struggle with an internal civil war, between what I want and my desire to be obedient to God's will.

A sister posted this verse -
"Psalm 119:37-Turn me away from wanting any other plan than Yours. Revive my heart toward You. Reassure me that Your promises are for me, for I trust and revere You."

After some discussion with Brad and others, it became clear that my thought processes about the "McDonalds" post might not have been as obvious to others as I thought they were. The ongoing discussion with my bros was about my strong desire to see my son walk again, and play his guitars and drums, and throw a ball again. I want so badly to see my son completely healed that I am almost refusing to consider being taken down any other road - the road to partial paralysis, for example; or the road to complete dependence on machines for the rest of Connor's natural life. I think it's a good thing for me to strongly desire and believe in the healing power of God. But if that strays into disobedience, then it's not a good thing any longer.

The word picture that kept coming to me was of a two-year-old, kicking and screaming against the strong arms of his father because what's happening isn't what he wanted. The child doesn't care what the parent thinks; he is getting dangerously close to blatant defiance. We've all seen the kids in supermarkets, or movie theaters, or even in our own homes, so you know what I'm talking about. That's what my McDonald's story was about - longing to go to one place, but being asked to put my faith in God for the journey without knowing the outcome at all, and how my heart's desire was in danger of transforming into a refusal to submit to God's will.

I don't want to be frightened by my Father God. I don't want to be afraid of His leading in our lives. I also don't want to have my son be anything but completely whole.

I spoke with my brother Brad for a moment yesterday, and the first question he asked was "How's the view from the front seat?", to which I answered "I can't see over the dashboard, but the road's really bumpy." He said, "Got your seatbelt on?" Such a simple thing, yet it hints that I may be beginning to transition from shock at our circumstances to some small steps toward an acknowledgment that God actually knows what He's doing, even when I can't see it.



Are we there yet?

Day 5 - June 20 - We need more prayer

This morning at about 0520, Connor's heart began missing beats.  In the next 30 minutes, he had six or seven episodes, ranging from one missed beat to numerous, with his heart rate often dropping as low as 24-30 beats per minute.  His heart recovered quickly each time, and his blood pressure responded appropriately, but the nurses decided that prudence dictated the best course of action.  As I write, they are doing a stat EKG, and they have stocked his room with medications designed to motivate the heart function as a precaution.  Additionally, they have moved the ominous-looking crash cart next to his bed, with the paddles and gel and stuff all attached.  Our night nurse explained that the thing we often refer to as a "defibrillator" is actually called a "pacemaker/defibrillator", and they can use it to regulate a persons' heart rate in addition to shocking one back into action.  Who knew?

I was just called into Connor's room.  Since only Cherie and I were here, and Cherie was already in, I shut down the computer and dragged it in to find my son in an agitated state, trying to push his breathing tube out.  While I was there, his heart missed another set of beats.  Cherie and I sang "Be still and know that I am God" to him, and he quieted.  Pray for him and for us.

Day 4 - June 19 - Please Pray...now!

Doctors just informed Eric that they intend to examine the status of blood clots in Connor's neck shortly, using a CT scan or similar. If the precarious situation has improved, meaning the clots are no longer a threat, then the staff can work to stabilize and alleviate the conditions in his spine. This is significant as Connor is still considered as "not stabilized" following his injuries.

Pray that conditions have improved to the point that stabilizing work can begin, and pray for strength and courage for Eric, Cherié, and Joelle, and the support network at the hospital to respond appropriately to the developments. Most of all, pray that His will be at the center of our thinking.

The scan could start in the next few minutes, so if you can find a minute of quiet space, lift up our brothers and sisters in prayer.

Brad
Michigan

Day 4 - June 19 - Get in the car, son...

"Get in the car, son.  We're going somewhere."

"Are we going to McDonald's?"

"You'll see when we get there, tiger!"

"Can we go to McDonald's?"

"I said you'll see when we get there, child! It's time to get in the car."

"I want to go to McDonald's!  I want McDonald's!"

"Son, I know how to drive, I know where we're going, and I have something to show you.  I just want you to get in the car."

"But I want McDonald's.  Waaaah, I want McDonald's!"

"Son, it's time.  Get in the car.  Don't make me put you in the car; I want you to take my hand, and we're going to walk across the lawn and get in the car."

"But I want to go to McDonald's, Papa."

"You don't know where we're going - it's a surprise to you.  I can see out the windshield, and you can't see over the dashboard.  That's why I'm driving; because I can see where we're going. Trust your father to take care of you and get you where you're going safely. Let's get in the car."

"Okay, Papa.   But would it be OK if maybe we stopped at McDonald's?"

"We'll see, son.  We'll see."

My Father  knows how to drive.

Day 3 - June 18 - Despair. And hope?

A short update because I need to let you know what a blessing you all are to us.  This afternoon, I spent ten short minutes with Connor.  He opened his eyes, so I smiled into his face and whispered "I love you".  He kept gazing into me, and I defy anyone who has a hurt child to resist speaking hope and encouragement to them.  It started simply - first whispered encouragement, then seeing that his lips were dry and swabbing his mouth for him.  Quickly, my tender mercies to my broken child turned into too much stimulation for my boy, and he began to labor to breathe.  I struggled to calm him without making it worse, without success.  Within a few moments, he had locked his gaze on my eyes and was pleading for me to lift his head and pull his neck to relieve the pain.  I cried as I refused: I knew I would be endangering his health if I started moving his head, but the hurting, lonely, frightened little boy staring out of Connor's eyes understood only that his father wasn't helping him.

I'm weeping as I write this, for I failed to be the one thing a child always expects their father to be - I failed to fix it, to make it better.  Worse, I failed to help my boy when he needed me desperately, and I have always told him I would ALWAYS be there for him if I could.  I read my own betrayal reflected in his eyes.

I finally had to resort to calling the nurse and having her calm him, and I left the ICU in despair, but under control.  Until I ran into my friend Randy in the hall, when the dam burst.  To my shame, I ranted against my Lord - how could he be this unfair?  How little God must love my son, if He would do this terrible thing to Connor just for the sake of "blessing" some other person somewhere else?  Who does He think he is, anyway?  I wept and wailed and threw my agony into the face of a God I now saw as a cold-hearted bastard who would kill my child to make some other kid happy.

That's when the two mothers showed up.  They were the mothers of the two boys in the rooms next to Connor, both of whom are dealing with traumatic brain injuries.  Amazingly and unjustly, they were both receiving relatively good news today, while I...  Well, we spoke a bit, I admitted that we were not having a good day, expressing my frustration with God.  One of the ladies said "I've felt the same way - and I try to remember that this must have been what Mary felt, watching God take her son to the cross.  Yes, great things were promised for the future, but Mary probably couldn't help wishing it didn't have to be so."  When they had left, my friend gently asked me - "can you honestly tell me that God didn't bring her by to remind you that He knows exactly what a hurting Son feels like?"

That drained the poison from my wounded heart, and I have been moving through this evening on a post-adrenaline swamp of mixed emotion.  Until a few minutes ago, when Cherie and I got a quiet moment, opened the blog, and spent twenty minutes reading all of your comments. Then, your words of hope and encouragement, your scriptures and songs, allowed us to quiet our souls long enough hear the truth of your words.  By the time we had worked through the lot of them, we had been rejuvenated for another tiny step in this uncertain journey.

Just now my father-in-law came out and advised us that for the last hour, Connor has been sleeping and resting, breathing consistently and well.  My God is faithful, even when I doubt it.

And so we move another step.  Pray for us, that our faith would be strong.  The requests for Connor remain the same, and add one - that he would find sufficiency in God's Spirit communing with him during this time.  Pray that his pain recedes, and that his feeling increases.  Pray that his Heavenly Father would be more reliable to Connor than his earthly father is.  And thank you for your words - please keep them coming.  You are being used by God to sustain us.  We love you, family.

Day 3 - June 18 - The Rollercoaster

First, I wanted to say an immense and heartfelt "thank you" for everyone's prayers, support, and concern.  In particular to Brad and Kent for putting up this blog so everyone can stay updated.  Our family covets your prayers, and we have a great sense of God's provision through your contributions in prayer.

Today is a day of ups and downs.  The doctors have removed all pain medicine from my son in order to more accurately assess his sensitivity, so Connor is now continuously wrestling with pain.  They are giving him a medication to relax him and reduce his level of anxiety, something I find interesting - considering that he is currently trapped and unable to move, you would think that anxiety would be pretty high on the "What's Connor going through-o-meter".  Helping him with that would be fairly high on my to-do list, if you asked me.  He is able to resist the pain to some degree by concentrating, but any distraction causes him to begin hyperventilating and getting agitated as he struggles to control it.  This includes praying with him, reading Scripture with him, even just talking to him.  It has gotten so bad in this regard that the nurses have asked us to limit our visits in an effort to let him rest.  Needless to say, this is extremely difficult - how can you ask a parent not to pray, or sing, or talk with their struggling child?

So I haven't been able to see my boy much today.  We are surrounded by our friends and family members, which helps us remember God's care of us through His children.  We are aching to comfort Connor in anyway we can, but are forced to ration his exposure to the very people who long to comfort him.  Please pray that God would comfort Connor and begin to take the pain from him.  Continue to pray that the clot would be dissolved quickly, that we would be able to get his neck stabilized safely, and that we would be able to figure out how to get Connor moved closer to home soon.  Plead with God that when his spine is finally stabilized, his spinal cord will be able to still function and provide the sensation Connor has been missing since Monday.

So those are the downs.  A few of the "ups" - the doctors have cleared Connor to take liquids orally, which is a huge positive.  We've also gotten our laptop to the hospital and gotten connected to the rest of the world again.  Also, we found that the camp carries an insurance rider that will take over for us in the event my health insurance hits its lifetime limit, up to an additional $500,000.  Wow, what a blessing, and what a relief from a niggling financial worry that I know I'm not supposed to worry about but can't seem to get out of my mind.  Another up - one of the camp personnel, a fantastic and supportive man named Gary (who also turned out to be the father of Joy Hauge - a church sister of ours) has graciously offered us the use of his second home here in Fresno until we can get the boy moved.  What an amazingly supportive way for him to demonstrate Christ's love to us.  He has already taken over all the logistical thought processes for us while we're here, and now he does this.  I am overwhelmed with the compassion and generosity being shown to us by Gary and the other folks who have flocked to us in our need.

Finally, the one "up" that I don't know how to categorize.  Cherie was sitting with Connor this morning when he began crying "Somebody fix my legs, somebody move my legs".  Cherie adjusted and pulled on his feet, asking "like this?  Like this?", and Connor would respond "No, no, it hurts - OK, like that".  To both legs.  

It would be easy to say "wow, this means God is going to give him his legs back!!!!", but I can't think that.  I really don't know what to think about it - is he just hallucinating?  Is he actually feeling something?  I don't know.  The medicos say it's just his imagination, but I have to ask if that were true, and he couldn't actually feel anything, how he knew that Cherie was moving his legs?

I don't know.  I'm in anguish for my son.  If I could take his place on the bed, and trade the rest of my life to give him the rest of his, I'd do it right now.  I'm torn between an assurance that my God is sovereign and  is using this for His glory, and anger at how unfair this seems to be for Connor.  So I close this with the song I've been singing over and over, every day -

"I am not skilled to understand

what God has willed, what God has planned;

I only know at His right hand

is One who is my Savior.

I take Him at His word indeed;

'Christ died for sinners' - this I read;

for in my heart I find a need

of Him to be my Savior.

That He should leave His place on high

and come for sinful man to die,

You count it strange? So once did I

before I knew my Savior!

And, oh, that He fulfilled may see

the travail of His soul in me,

and with His work contented be,

as I with my dear Savior.

Yes, living, dying, let me bring

my strength, my solace from this spring -

that He who lives to be my King

once died to be my Savior!"