You probably extracted bits and pieces of the situation from my past two posts, but I’ll lay it all out there now and give a good update.
Overall, I would say things are going well. Chase was much less agitated today. He tossed, turned, moaned and cried less today than Friday and Saturday. He found contentment in just “being” for much of the afternoon. I’m no doctor, but it seemed to be progress in my opinion. I even got him to smile at me a bit when I was hanging out with him in the afternoon.
Chase isn’t talking or eating or anything like that yet. They feed him through a tube, though that’s the only “thing” going into his body. He’s off all IVs. They said they might get him in a wheelchair tomorrow and take him around. I hope they’re able to. I think getting him out of that room would be really good for him.
One thing I’m discovering with all this is that it’s going to require a tremendous amount of physical and emotional energy–primarily emotional. When I left the hospital today–despite how positive the day was–I wanted nothing more than to sleep my stresses away.
I’ve found that even living by faith takes a lot of energy. If you’ve read my previous posts, you know I’ve been tackling this with a fair amount of ambition, claiming all the promises of God and backing them with a lot of faith. I kept it in high gear all week.
But as I tired today, I could sense my fighter’s spirit weakening. What if Chase doesn’t fully recover? How will Andrea react? How will Mom and Dad deal with it? What about Grant and Shelby and Celeste? Doubts and fears began to creep in.
And then the thought of having to maintain the battle for weeks more–probably months more–was discouraging. I want to be able to say, “I’ve fought the good fight; I’ve finished the race; I’ve kept the faith.” But I know it’s going to be hard.
Everything we’re reading on the situation says that progress is going to be measured in steps from here on out, not leaps or bounds. We’re likely going to have to LOOK for progress rather than notice it. It’s not the type of injury that just heals, but it’s an entire recovery process that requires the help of all family and friends.
So this is what life is all about: loving one another, being available to one another, sharing each other’s burdens, making the load lighter for another person. And I am now reminded that that is what God wants to do for our entire family right now: take the burden off our shoulders.
Help me give it to you, Father. I know I have another long week ahead of me–another week where I can chose to cave to pressure, or let you pull me above it and stand triumphant again. A week that will be full of opportunities to advance your kingdom–both in my family and in society–as long as I look for opportunities and make myself available.
And I can’t even begin to fathom what my sister is going through. Give her strength, Lord. May your grace be made perfect in our lives. May you be our strength when we are weak.
Show us the way.
