Wading through life

I’ve never been quite as proud of my sister as I am right now. Amidst the chaos of trying to organize her family’s schedule for the next week (my nieces’ school and extra-curricular schedules, their family and friend babysitters, errands she needed to run, who was going to stay in the room with Chase…), she busted into a testimony of God’s faithfulness in answering prayer.

Shelby had broken down in frustration of her world being turned upside down. Shelby was sick of having to commute an hour to school from her aunts, having to eat fast food all the time, having to synchronize her schedule with loads of external factors…  “I liked my life the way it was,” she said in tears. “I liked being able to see my friends and have fun with them.”

“I know,” said Andrea. “It’s hard and we don’t know how long this will take. Probably months.”

Then she laid it out there—the work God had been doing in her life through prayer. She let Shelby and the rest of us know that with everything she had been doing, she had been relying on the Lord’s strength. He had been faithful in answering her prayers for Chase’s life, for positive news, for the ability to sleep, for endurance in being by Chase’s side. She had prayed against the panic attacks she was susceptible to and they had even gone away.

It was awesome; I got tingly.

“We have to take it one day at time and rely on his strength for everything because we can’t do it on our own. He’s answered each of my prayers so far.”

Does this whole scenario sound familiar…? Like a prayer request I sent out to many of you only a few days ago? I asked the faithful to pray that Andrea and Grant would begin to clearly see God’s hand at work in this situation. It’s one of those prayers that are clearly within God’s will that we know he wants to answer.

Can’t believe it’s been only a week since our lives have been uncoiled by Chase’s accident. I think it’s been the longest week of my life. I’m not complaining about the situation—just reflecting. It’s been quite the trial. And this morning in the shower I forced myself to thank God for it. I thanked him for the opportunity to again offer him praise in a time of struggle.

As one of my favorite worship songs reads:

Blessed be Your name in the land that is plentiful
Where Your streams of abundance flow
Blessed be Your name
And 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’ll turn back to praise
And 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
And blessed be Your name on the road marked with suffering
Though there’s pain in the offering
Blessed be Your name

Note the end of the verses. We can’t praise God simply when things are going good. Each trial we come across is simply another opportunity to turn the tables on then enemy and emerge victorious. This brings me to YET ANOTHER lesson from Secrets of the Vine (this book is only 126 pages long, and each page is quite small in surface area. It’s rather amazing how much I’m pulling from it).

I’ll quote, within the context of facing trials:

Are you suddenly facing a future with diabetes or prostate cancer? God isn’t purposefully constraining your life just to see how you’ll react. Yet every trail you face is an opportunity to let Him work in your life for abundance. If you invite Him into your circumstances, He will keep His promise to work everything together for your good (Rom. 8:28).

Pretty simple idea, I guess. But how often to we relish our trials and seize the opportunity to grow from them? Thankfully, we often end up growing from them in spite of our resistance. But what if we dove into them headfirst, desiring to be molded and changed from them? What if our desired outcome in ALL situations in life—be they positive or negative—were growth, rather than satisfaction, or contentment, or comfort, or pleasure?

Would the world be a different place—one more under the authority and rich blessing of Christ?

I think so.

I’ll close with lyrics to a song that has been my prayer of late. Show Me Your Glory by Third Day. I love waking up to it in the morning. Even at 6 (or 7 or in the morning, I can’t restrain a smile from my face when I hear these words:

I caught a glimpse of Your splendor
In the corner of my eye
The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen
And it was like a flash of lightning
Reflected off the sky
And I know I’ll never be the same

Show me Your glory
Send down Your presence
I want to see Your face
Show me Your glory
Majesty shines about You
I can’t go on without You, Lord

When I climb down the mountain
And get back to my life
I won’t settle for ordinary things
I’m gonna follow You forever
And for all of my days
I won’t rest ’til I see You again

Had a good talk with my brother over lunch. In addition to giving me an update on Chase’s condition, we talked about a lot of “bigger” things, like what this all means to our family and reasons why the Lord might be walking us through this valley.

Eric said that Chase is continuing to improve–that he’s more awake now than he was the other day and that they’ve removed the respirator. But along with Chase being awake has come awareness to his discomfort. I guess brain trauma patients often go through an “aggravated” state that can last from days to weeks; Chase appears to be working his way through this. And it’s hard on my sister and the rest of our family to see him in discomfort.

He can’t really talk right now and he isn’t completely alert. He fades in an out. So it can be hard sometimes to hold his attention. My brother and I are both concerned the next few weeks or months could be the hardest time to work through–the time when Chase is “back” but not completely, conscious, but not the “old Chase.” It could be a long process.

Eric also revealed that they detected some brain damage in his front right lob, though they haven’t determined the extent of it yet. They feel it is minor and regional. Eric did some research and found that damage to this area can affect personality and social and motor skills. Obviously, we’re praying against that and claiming the life and health Christ says are part of his Kingdom.

Doctors may move Chase out of ICU as early as Sunday. This is both good and bad. While it’s encouraging to see the little guy not in need of intensive care, it also places a larger burden on our family. He probably won’t have a team dedicated to his care, but rather be part of a unit’s “rounds.” And while we’re committed to seeing him through this, we haven’t even scratched the surface of what this will really look like. Andrea and Grant can’t do it alone; we’re all going to have to make sacrifices and lay aside our agenda.

And while this will be hard, it will also be tremendously good. I find it no coincidence that I wasn’t at peace with several commitments I was considering making this fall. I felt the need to be free and available, though I wasn’t sure why. This is certainly part of the reason, if not all of it. God’s forcing us to take our eyes of ourselves and growth will surely result.

The only news I can offer right now is that “no news (I’m assuming) is good news.” I didn’t make it over to Ann Arbor last night to be with my family. I needed a night at home to catch up on some deferred maintinance–namely wedding photos I needed to edit, order and get to the respective couples.

It’s tough to get remote updates on Chase’s situation because cell phones can’t be used on floor 5 of Mott because they potentially could interfere with equipment. I also forgot to get the direct line to his room. But surely my family would let me know if anything major happened.

I’ll be heading over to Ann Arbor for the weekend after I do what ever 25 year-old single male likes to do on Friday nights: work. My next F O U R weekends are scheduled with work photo assignments. Not the weekends in their entirity, but to some extent or another. Can you say D R A G ?

But hey, that’s my job. So I’ll do it.

He’s awake. That’s a good thing. A very, very good thing. Yesterday was a very upbeat day for our family. Chase kicks his legs and swings his arms, mostly in response to being irritated with the respirator tube they’ve left in his throat in case he would need it. He also responds, after some prodding, to the nurses asking him to squeeze fingers and such. He looks us in the eyes and our hearts break for him as we sense the fear he has of the situation he has awoken to.

So, we’re obviously delighted to see him making such progress. Each step he takes toward recovering completely is a miracle in our mind. God is truly at work in Chase’s body and our family is SO grateful for the tremendous and overwhelming support we’ve receive the past four days. I now truly understand what people are talking about when they utilize sharing time at church to thank the Body for the “love and support you’ve shown during our time of need.”

I feel I can safely estimate the number of people who’ve prayed for Chase the past week to be in the several thousands. He’s been added to prayer chains across the country in churches and prayer groups consisting of people who have never meet me, Chase or any of our family. One friend called me around 3:30 p.m. yesterday because her uncle requested he have the latest news for his 4:00 p.m. prayer meeting. I, of course, hadn’t personally asked her uncle to pray for my nephew because I’ve never met the man. Just awesome stuff.

Chase is in good hands, and it shows. But I think there is a danger in almost taking his recovery for granted because things have gone so smoothly thus far. My family and I CANNOT overlook the mighty healing God has brought forth here. I now pray especially for the non-believers in our extended family—that they would see Chase’s healing for what it is: Jesus Christ at work within him.