As a new year dawns...

It has been wonderful to have our family together for Christmas. Nathan has progressed to the point that he can walk a few feet with the help of parallel bars. But the external fixator remains in place as the bones in his left leg are not yet growing together. The trauma surgeon has said that more surgery (to insert steel rods) may be necessary if the bones don't begin growing together within a couple weeks.

My paraphrase of Ecclesiastes 3:11-13 this New Year: ....Nothing takes God by surprise; He always knows exactly what's up, and what He's up to. He has planted in our hearts as human beings a longing to make sense of life. But, as intense as is that longing to know the end from the beginning, we as human beings cannot see the whole scope of God's work from beginning to end. So there is no point in trying to peer into the inscrutable. It is more prudent to take each day as it comes--enjoying God's good gifts (from food and drink to the strength to work) as the Lord sees fit to provide such gifts, and trusting Him for whatever tomorrow holds....


As to what this new year holds for us: Much is uncertain, with Hannah and Stacey headed home to Manila, while Nathan and I stay on in Austria. But this much is certain: "We need have no fear of someone who loves us perfectly; his perfect love for us eliminates all dread of what he might do to us. If we are afraid, it is for fear of what he might do to us, and shows that we are not fully convinced that he really loves us." (1 John 4:18, Living Bible)

Acts of kindness--more uncanny than random :)

Our three-way rendevous in Munich came off without a glitch. Drew and Sarah, flying from Portland, and Stacey, flying from Manila, met up in Amsterdam, per the plan. And their slightly-delayed arrival in Munich gave me just enough time to find my way to the Munich airport before Sarah cleared customs. We were in Salzburg by 1am, but too excited to sleep until 3am. :)

Stacey and I had to be up early the next morning for the long drive from Salzburg to the U.S. consulate in Vienna to renew her passport so that she can return home to the Philippines. The Vienna consulate accepts no applications after 11:30am so we left Salzburg at 7am to make it in time. (I am clueless when it comes to finding my way around Vienna. I'd been there just once, at night, and I'd never attempted to find my way around Vienna's convoluted maze of centuries-old circular streets on my own, much less do so with a deadline.) I realized en route that we had no time to spare, so I phoned the Marriott hotel (in which the U.S. consulate is located) to ask directions. The hotel staff gave me some very sketchy directions and said that "it's hard to describe." So, on reaching the outskirts of Vienna, I stopped at a McDonald's in hopes they'd speak English and be of help. No such luck. The women at the counter did not speak English and were no help.

Then, to my surprise, a middle-aged man in a business suit walked up to the counter and told me (in German) that he'd lead me to the Marriott. How did I understand his German? I'm not sure. I don't think it was a gift of tongues. :) It must have been his mentioning the Marriott by name several times, without making any attempt to explain how to get there. When he headed out the door, I followed him to the parking lot and jumped in our borrowed car and followed his car out of the lot.

Twenty-five minutes and 12-13 turns later, I spotted the Marriott. Our guide jumped out of his car and ran back to our car, gesturing toward the hotel. Then, before I could even roll down the window to thank him, he jumped back in his car and drove off.

By the time we parked and took the elevator to the consular office, it was 11:22am. I apologized to the woman at the counter for showing up without any passport photos. She explained that there was a shop in the lobby that shoots passport photos, and asked us to please hurry there and back. She stayed open late to finish processing Stacey's application; it was 11:50am by the time we left.

That woman's kindness was a blessing; she could easily have turned us away. But the wonderfully uncanny thing was our encounter with the gentleman who took 25 minutes to guide us through Vienna's maze of circular streets. I understood only one word he spoke ("Marriott"); I didn't even have a chance to properly thank him before he disappeared in the traffic. We have experienced one after another act of kindness these past couple months, but none more mysterious that that!

"...Angels are...servants...sent from God to care for those who will receive salvation." (Hebrews 1:14)

"Alle eure Sorge werft auf ihn...

We are very grateful indeed to the many who continue to uphold us in prayer. Tomorrow we are attempting the most challenging logistical feat I personally have ever tried to coordinate: bringing our immediate family together for Christmas from three continents. I will drive from the Vienna area to Munich to meet up with our daughter who is flying in from Manila and our son and his girlfriend who are flying in from Portland. The three of them are supposed to meet up in Amsterdam before flying on to Munich. I have never laid eyes on Munich and speak no German. Our daughter has never before flown alone, and our son has never visited Europe. The possibility for error or confusion is unnerving. (I can now imagine how General Eisenhower felt the day before D-day!) Thank you for praying that chaos will be averted, and that it is a joyful Christmas reunion.

Please pray also, in line with the this season in which we honor the Prince of Peace, that His peace will reign in my heart these next 48 hours! I am reminded of the message of the bookmark that was given me at a Gospel concert that we attended just last night at a downtown Vienna church: "Alle eure Sorge werft auf ihn; denn er sorgt für euch."

I would have been clueless as to what it meant had it not included the reference: "1. Petrus 5,7." I recognized that! :) "Cast all your cares upon Him, because He cares for you." What an appropriate passage! I'm holding onto that bookmark, and its message!

A new chapter: rehab

A new chapter in the chronicle of Nathan's recovery opened Tuesday with Nathan's transfer from the hospital in Salzburg to a rehab center 180 miles (300 km) away, near Vienna. We arranged ambulance transportation as the external fixator on his left leg prevents him from bending his knee, making it difficult for him to get in a regular car. Hannah and I followed the ambulance in the car Gerhard loaned us. I set a new land speed record for me to keep up with that ambulance. :)

The doctor who admitted Nathan to the rehab center discovered that he is unable to bend his right ankle to raise his foot. In fact, he has no feeling on the top of that foot. The doctor said that the nerves that have been damaged or severed may or may not grow back. If not, he will have to wear a brace indefinitely. Nathan was understandably dismayed to hear that, but took it in stride before long.

We were disappointed later in the week to hear that the removal of the top half of the fixator on Nathan's left leg will be postponed from December 15 to December 22. That will delay his being able to get in a car. But the doctor showed Hannah and I and Nathan the X-rays, and we could see the easily-discernible cracks in the bones of his left leg. (The right leg has steel rods inside both the thigh and calf.)

This noon (Saturday) he nearly fainted at the lunch table. He has no therapy on weekends, so he spent the morning reading and typing messages on the computer. He was doing more reading at the lunch table when he nearly fainted. It must have been too much for one morning.

So we are reminded that he has a ways to go. From his brain...to his eyes...to his teeth and jaw...to his legs and feet, he has a long ways to go. Bones and nerves, we are told, are the slowest parts of the body to regenerate. And Nathan's injuries were primarly injuries to bones and nerves. So patience is called for.

Tonight is the two-month anniversary of the accident. He was hit by a 9-passenger van while crossing the street late the night of October 14. I was reminded last night of the accident, and of God's sovereign care, as I read Psalm 139.

My paraphrase of Psalm 139:2-3, 7, 9, 12, 13, 15, 17-18:

"O Lord, you knew when Nathan and friends decided to sit down in the playground swings at the park that night...and you knew when he decided to get up and stroll across the street. Every moment you knew where he was. Nothing escapes your notice!

Not only were you aware, you were right there on the scene! None of us can get away from your presence. Manila, Portland, Salzburg; it makes no difference. You're right beside us.

Likewise, day and night, light and darkness, make no difference to you. One of the issues in the police investigation of the accident was whether there was enough light for the driver to see Nathan in the crosswalk. But you don't need streetlights or headlights to see what's up. To you midnight is every bit as bright as noon. Darkness and light are both alike to you.

So Nathan's accident came as no surprise to you. Not only did you know what was going on, you were right there!

We are grateful to all the physicians and nurses who have expertly and compassionately cared for Nathan. But how good it is to know that Nathan's Great Physician is none other than his Creator, the very one who made every last part of his body, knitting him together, weaving him together, in the first place! The trauma surgeons can align broken bones, but they cannot make them grow together again. That is your line of work! And when it comes to the nerves in his foot, even the doctors must wait to see if the nerves will grow back, enabling him to walk without a brace.

We cannot know what the future holds, but we can go to sleep at night knowing that the One who holds the future loves us perfectly and cares for us incessantly. You think of us day and night...without let-up!

It is hard to imagine being known the way you know us, and being loved the way you love us!"

"Like a dream" (Thanksgiving--Part II)

Much has transpired since I last blogged.

Nathan has been walking! Well...sort of: he's hopping. The fixator and cast on his left leg are still in place, so that leg does not bend at the knee and is not to touch the ground. But he has, with the help of a "walker," been able to hop to the end of the hall in the hospital before he is exhausted. He will be discharged from the hospital early Tuesday morning and be transferred by ambulance to a rehab center in Klosterneuburg (180 miles from Salzburg).

Last night was Nathan's first time to leave the hospital campus. We got permission to take him to a very special memorial dinner. Jim Ferneding, an alumnus who had studied in the Salzburg program years ago included in his will a generous gift to the Salzburg program. Jim wished, many years ago, that his Christmas in Salzburg, far from family and home, had been more special. So Jim's brother Mike decided to provide this year's Salzburg program students a very elegant Christmas dinner. Mike treated all the students and staff (and Hannah and me) to an exquisite five-course dinner. Hannah and I never dreamed we'd see Europe, much less enjoy a gourmet dinner at one of The World's Leading Hotels. To say that it was a memorable occasion for Nathan, and for Hannah and me, would be an understatement.

But even that extraordinary experience has been overshadowed by the ways in which the Lord has provided for us in the last few days. My home church in Portland generously made it possible for our other two kids (Nathan's older brother Andrew and younger sister Stacey) to fly from Portland and from Manila, respectively, to join Hannah and me and Nathan in Austria for Christmas. Only after we had purchased their tickets, and lined up housing for them in Salzburg, however, did we discover that Nathan would be moved from Salzburg to Klosteneuburg for rehab. The University of Portland has very graciously provided us housing in their Salzburg dorm, but Hannah and I wondered how in the world we could afford housing in Klosterneuburg for the two of us, much less the kids. We immediately began talking to the Lord about our need. (Not that He didn't already know all about it, but He is the one who commands us to ask for daily bread! He wants us to tell Him about what we need!)

It hadn't been more than a few days when, to our utter astonishment, we received an email from a Klosteneuburg-area missionary whom we had never heard of, much less met. She wrote: "We have heard about your situation from a lot of people. Our co-workers in Klosterneuburg are out of the country; you are welcome to stay in their 4-bedroom house from December 11 to January 11." We were dumbfounded! Almost as soon as we hear that Nathan will be an in-patient in Klosteneuburg, we receive an email offering us Klosteneuburg housing that will accomodate our whole family!

But how would we get around Klosteneuburg, we wondered? Imagine our amazement when Gerhard, the University of Portland's Salzburg program landlord, offered "out of the blue" to loan us his family's station wagon...as long as we need it! Not only that...he made a point of loaning us a GPS as well to help us find our way around Klosterneuburg!

I can't find a better description for our experience of the last few days than that in Psalm 126:1-3. I've adapted it from the New Living Translation:

"What the Lord has been doing for us is like a dream!
We can't help but laugh--and sing--for joy!
And family and friends the world over can't help but say,
'What amazing things the Lord has done for them!'
Yes, the Lord has done amazing things for us!
What joy!"

The Lord's doing

Nathan's making steady progress.

He has graduated from having Hannah and I push him around the several square blocks hospital campus in a wheelchair to wheeling himself around.

And after eating only pureed foods (as in, cream-of-wheat and mashed potatoes) for days, Nathan was happy to join us on a trip to the supermarket across the street from the hospital to pick out some soft foods to supplement his hospital diet. (His oral surgeon says it will be another week or two before his jaw is up to full-fledged chewing.)

Hannah and I were taken aback the other day to see the oral surgeon remove from Nathan's mouth a (transparent) "plate" that had been affixed to the roof of his mouth. (We hadn't even known it was there!) "What's that?!" we asked. The surgeon explained that it was a sort of "cast." Come to find out, Nathan's palate (the bone inside the roof of his mouth) was broken (split lengthwise) by the force of the blow when the auto mirror struck the side of his head. (Just like what happened to the bone behind his eyes.) One more reminder that it is only the grace of God that enabled Nathan to survive the accident...and to do so without permanent brain damage!

"This is the Lord's doing, and it is marvelous to see!" (Psalm 118:23)

We'll soon be "snail-mailing" our praying family and friends a short account of "the Lord's doing." If you'd like to receive it, and aren't already on our "snail mail" list, please email your name and address to greg.haskell@gmail.com and I'll see to it that you receive that mailing.

We'd love to keep in touch with the friends who have been praying for Nathan! (Some of you we haven't even met!) I'll continue blogging regularly (but not daily) as well, even after Nathan transfers from the hospital to a rehab center.)

"Don't forget to thank him..." :)

Nathan just keeps on truckin'. :)

His first day in a wheelchair (day before yesterday) he only lasted 25 minutes before he got dizzy. But yesterday he spent two hours in the wheelchair. In fact, Hannah and I took him outside and wheeled him around the hospital campus for a brisk half-hour. It was a sunny day, but there is still some snow on the ground, and he enjoyed the change of scenery.

We got word today that Nathan's been accepted to a rehab program. (An answer to prayer; see my last blog post.) He'll transfer from the hospital to the rehab center on December 11. (Another answer to prayer.) So he and I continue to hope that he can go back to school in January.

He today saw two opthalmologists to troubleshoot some vision problems. They think his brain's OK, and that his vision will improve with time. So it's a race against the clock (well, a race against the calendar) to get back in the game. :)

I'm reminded of a passage my parents taught us around the dinner table 40 years ago (yep, 40 years ago!): "Don't worry about anything; instead, pray about everything. Tell God what you need, and don't forget to thank Him for what He has done. If you do this, you will experience God's peace, which is far more wonderful than the human mind can understand. His peace will guard your hearts and minds as you live in Christ Jesus." (Philippians 4:6-7)

No fear :)

Nathan is making progress, day by day. He is in a regular hospital ward now, and is free of tubes and monitors. The physical therapist yesterday helped him into a wheelchair for the first time. And we have submitted an application to a rehab program that is very highly recommended.

Nathan would dearly love to go back to school this coming January. But to pull that off would require that:
1) he be ready to go to rehab within a couple weeks;
2) he be admitted to that rehab program in December in spite of the fact that they presumably try to reduce the number of patients over the holidays (and there are more applicants than spaces in that program year-around!);
3) he finish the rehab program very speedily;
4) the University of Portland allow him to return to school somewhat later than the January 7 first day of classes.

That does sound ambitious, doesn't it? :) But if Nathan can't go back to school here in Salzburg in January, it raises a host of questions about where to go from here.

Our God has already worked wonders for Nathan, so we know very well that he is more than capable of bringing all those things to pass. But the Lord knows better than we what would be best for Nathan. We've gotta trust Him to orchestrate circumstances as He sees fit.

"O Sovereign Lord! You have made the heavens and earth by your great power. Nothing is too hard for you! You are loving and kind to thousands... You are the great and powerful God, the Lord Almighty. You have all wisdom and do great and mighty miracles...."
(Jeremiah 32:17-19)

"Who can forget the wonders he performs? How gracious and merciful is our Lord!" (Psalm 111:4)

"Happy are those who fear the Lord...
They do not fear bad news;
they confidently trust the Lord to care for them." (Psalm 112:1, 7)

Lucky? Or part of a bigger story?

The doctor who yesterday removed the bandages from Nathan's nose was the latest in a series of doctors who have said that Nathan was "very lucky." I know what they mean. It is indeed remarkable that he survived the accident at all. And that he did so without permanent brain damage is more amazing still. But "lucky?!" I don't think so.

The words of Gandalf (the wise old wizard in "The Lord of the Rings") to Bilbo Baggins "fit like a glove" when applied to Nathan's situation:

"You don't really suppose, do you, that all your adventures and escapes were managed by mere luck, just for your sole benefit? You are a very fine person, Mr. Baggins, and I am very fond of you; but you are only quite a little fellow in a wide world after all!"

To attribute Nathan's surviving without brain damage to "luck" is to be blind to the "wider world"--the bigger picture, or the bigger story--in which each of us play a small part. There is a cosmic Playwright and Director at work. He uses both "tragic accidents" and "lucky breaks" together to further (and to eventually, to resolve) the glorious plot He has had in mind from before the foundation of the world.

"He is the God who made the world and everything in it. ....He himself gives life and breath to everything. ....His purpose in all this was that human beings should seek him, and perhaps feel their way toward him and find him--though he is not far from any one of us. For in him we we 'live and move and exist.'" (Acts 17:28)

"The Lord who created you says: "...I have made them for my glory. It was I who created them.'" (Isaiah 43:7)

"The Lord's plans stand firm forever; his intentions can never be shaken." (Psalm 33:11)

Thanksgiving (Part I)

It's Thanksgiving Day in the USA today, and we are very thankful indeed here in Salzburg. Nathan's surgery this noon went just fine, they tell us. That operation (his sixth) is the last of the major operations he needs. He'll be recovering in the ear-nose-throat unit for a couple of days and then they'll transfer him to the trauma unit where they'll continue work on his legs. At the same time, the oral surgery department will begin working on his jaw and teeth. (He is in a university hospital where each specialty has their own unit.)

I have, for some time, been meaning to make a list of the things for which we are thankful in connection with Nathan's accident. It is such a long list that one blog will not suffice to "chronicle" them all. (I share the sentiments of the writer of Psalm 106:2: "Who can list the glorious miracles of the Lord? Who can ever praise him half enough?")

But I'll mention just a few of the ways God cared for Nathan, and for our family, in this first "installment" of an ongoing Thanksgiving blog:

The weekends preceding the weekend the accident, Nathan had been traveling in Prague, Vienna, and Munich, respectively. He returned safely from each of those out-of-town trips. He was struck (as a pedestrian) by a van as he was crossing the street just two blocks from "home" at the University of Portland Center in in Salzburg, Austria. Why is it so wonderful that that accident took place so close to his "home" in Salzburg?

1) Several American doctors have told us that Austria is the home of the world's best trauma surgeons. At international medical conferences, the presenters on trauma surgery are invariably Austrian. (The Austrians have refined the art of treating victims of ski accidents.)

2) Nathan was alone when the accident took place, but the friends with whom he had been "hanging out" in a nearby park heard the accident and hurried to the scene in time to identify Nathan and run back to the Center for help. The University of Portland program director was on the scene before the ambulance could leave, was rushed to the hospital by the police at the scene, and on the phone to us right away.

3) The hospital to which Nathan was rushed by ambulance is close to the Center (in fact, it is within walking distance, and on the same city bus line), making it easy for Hannah and me to commute to the hospital daily and for Nathan's friends to visit frequently. That has been a big encouragement to him.

4) The University of Portland has graciously accommodated Hannah and me at the Center, making it possible for us to stay for an extended period in a city that would otherwise be prohibitively expensive.

Those four items are just the first in a long list of ways in which God has cared for Nathan and for us. Tomorrow's blog will introduce you to "Good Samaritans" (Austrian, American, Filipino, and Chinese) who have come to Nathan's aid and to ours. For tonight, suffice to say that we are thankful...to God, to them, and to you faithful pray-ers.

God bless you this Thanksgiving Day!

Grateful for His grace, and ever-dependent on His grace

Now that Nathan's heart rate is now within normal range, the surgery that has twice been postponed is scheduled for 11am tomorrow.

The surgery is to seal a crack in the base of his skull with a view to preventing any future infections from reaching his brain through his sinuses and causing meningitis. The surgery is a rather delicate as it involves procedures close to the eyes and to the nerves leading to the nose and mouth, so your prayers for the surgeon's wisdom and dexterity are very much appreciated.

Psalm 103:3-5 describes what the Lord has been doing for Nathan and what we continue to pray for him:

"He...heals all my diseases.
He ransoms me from death
and surrounds me with love and tender mercies.
He fills my life with good things.
My youth is renewed like the eagle's!"

Hannah and I are ever mindful that the Lord's goodness to Nathan has nothing whatever to do with Nathan's worthiness or ours. We were grieved to hear just yesterday about the deaths of a Christian college student killed in an auto accident and of a former missionary's son killed in action in Iraq. And we have had several good friends and missionary colleagues die untimely and painful deaths. We cannot, of course, say why Nathan has been spared. We know that understanding the actions of a God who is both infinite and sovereign is far, far beyond us (Job 42:1-3). But our perplexity does not diminish our gratitude for God's graciously sparing and healing Nathan.

Wow! Was that QUICK!

Yesterday, as Hannah and I were talking about inviting people to pray about Nathan's being so very glassy-eyed, confused, and uncommunicative, I was thinking to myself that I'd sure appreciate a SPEEDY, rather than a slow-but-sure, answer to prayer. But I wondered to myself, "Is it OK to pray that He'll work fast? Is it OK to "rush" the Lord?"

So I was encouraged to read the prayer I quoted in last night's blog--Psalm 79:8: "Let your tenderhearted mercies quickly meet our needs." Asaph (the writer of that psalm) didn't hesitate to ask the Lord to work quickly. So I went ahead and italicized "quickly" in yesterday's blog invitation to pray.

Imagine my delight today to find Nathan better than ever! It was like night to day! From the minute we entered the room, he's back to being alert, communicative, and laughing about how "out of it" he was yesterday. It's wonderful to have him back! In fact, I am so delighted that Hannah has to remind me that he is not altogether "out of the woods" just yet.

Today's glitch is tachycardia (elevated heart rate--as if he's running a footrace). Nathan's heart rate was almost 130 when we arrived this afternoon. They did an ECG to try to identify the reason for that elevated rate, and an internist arrived before long to give him medication that slowed his heart to about 100 by the time we left. The internist wonders if perhaps some of the yogurt Nathan was eating when the seizure took place yesterday ended up in his lungs and is causing infection. The people in the ICU assured us that they saw no yogurt in his lungs (as I understand it, they inserted a tube to take a look, and did an X-ray later in the evening); but whatever the reason, that elevated heart rate has resulted in his surgery being postponed once again. It will be late this week or next week.

In the meantime, Nathan is eager to have visitors and to have books and games on hand to prevent boredom. :) It's quite an emotional roller-coaster we're on. Thank you for keeping Nathan in your prayers. Not only does the Lord answer prayer, but He is sometimes pleased to do so quickly!

Dismayed

Hannah and I were very taken aback (and dismayed) on arriving at the hospital this afternoon to learn that Nathan had a seizure this morning and was medicated, such that he was, this afternoon and evening, only minimally responsive. After 48 hours of having our "good old Nathan" back, it was very sobering indeed to see him glassy-eyed and confused. The Nathan we so enjoy is virtually absent.

The doctor on duty this evening attributes the seizure to Nathan's withdrawal from the sedatives that he has been on for weeks, but said that he will have to take medication to prevent such seizures for years to come, perhaps as long as he lives.

Nathan's surgery has been postponed until Wednesday.

We are cast anew on the grace of God, and very grateful for the many who are so faithfully upholding Nathan in prayer. Please join us in praying Psalm 79:8-9 and Psalm 80:1-2, 7, 14-15, 17-19:

"Let your tenderhearted mercies quickly meet our needs,
for we are brought low to the dust.

Help us, O God of our salvation!
Help us for the honor of your name.

Please listen! Display your glory!
Show us your mighty power!
Come to rescue Nathan!

Turn us again to yourself, O God.
Make your face shine down upon us.
Only then will Nathan be saved.

Come back, we beg you, O God Almighty.
Look down from heaven and see our plight.
Watch over and care for this vine that you yourself
have planted,
this son you have raised for yourself.
Strengthen the man you love...

Revive us so we can call on your name once more.

Turn us again to yourself, O God.
Make your face shine down upon us.
Only then will Nathan be saved."

Thanksgiving Day (celebrated) :)

Today (Sunday) is the Thanksgiving Day celebration at both the University of Portland Center and at the International Church here in Salzburg. (There is no Thanksgiving Day holiday in Austria, only a harvest festival, so the expats have chosen to celebrate Thanksgiving Day today.)

I have never been more thankful in all my life. Not only has Nathan's life been spared, and his mind restored, but yesterday's remarkable grace was the way he accepted the way his eagerly-anticipated plans for the holidays have to be postponed.

Nathan has, for many months, been planning on traveling to meet up with close friends over the Christmas break; and he was telling us Friday (his first really lucid day) that "the show must go on." :) But yesterday, in God's providence, an ICU doctor explained to him that, even if he is able to stand by mid-December, he won't have the strength to travel. Nathan immediately accepted that, and told Hannah to email his friends to tell them his plans have changed. Nathan's calm acceptance of such disappointing news is itself a minor miracle. :) I consider it a dramatic result of the prayers of so many for him, and for us as a family.

Last night, on the way home from the hospital, I felt so relaxed. I wondered if it was right to feel that way when the Lord was done such remarkable things for us. Should I not feel excited? But I felt better about feeling so relaxed when, on arriving "home" for the night, I happened to read the words of the psalmist in Psalm 116:6-7: "I was facing death, and then he saved me. Now I can rest again..." :)

My thanksgiving psalm this Thanksgiving Day (adapted from the New Living Translation of Psalm 116:1-9, 12-13, 15, 19):

I love the Lord because he hears and answers prayers.
Because he bends down and listens,
I will pray as long as I have breath!

Death had its hands around Nathan's throat...
Then we called on the Lord:
"Please, Lord, save him!"

How kind the Lord is! How good he is!
So merciful, this God of ours!
Nathan was facing death, and the Lord saved him!
Now I can rest; the Lord has been so good to us.

What can I offer the Lord for all he has done for us?
I will praise the Lord for saving Nathan.

The Lord's loved ones are precious to him;
it grieves him when they die.

Praise the Lord!

Surprise! Surprise!

Our first surprise on reaching the hospital today was an unpleasant surprise. It turns out that the patient in surgery ahead of Nathan had much more complex cancer surgery than was anticipated, such that she took up Nathan's time in the operating room. So he will have to wait until this coming Tuesday for his surgery. That was quite frustrating for all concerned. Even the ICU staff were very frustrated, as Nathan underwent the lumbar puncture procedure yesterday to prep for surgery this morning, and now he will have to undergo that procedure again this coming Monday.

But even that postponement may have a bright side: The surgeons will be discussing Nathan's case further and may be able to combine two or more of the needed procedures when they do surgery on Tuesday. That is, they may operate on Nathan's skull base and on his jaw at the same time (and perhaps even include other procedures as well), minimizing the number of operations needed. And Nathan's first in line for the operating room on Tuesday.

But the disappointment of the postponed surgery was overshadowed by a delightful surprise: Nathan's clarity of mind! He's baaack! :) No hallucinations whatever today. In fact, Nathan's able to start making plans for the future!

Of course, it will take him a while to get clear on the shape of things. For example, he didn't realize that he'd been in a coma for two weeks and has now missed a whole month of school, such that he can't just "pick up where he left off" this semester. Nor did he realize that he can't stand on either leg. (His right leg has the steel inside, but neither leg can bear any weight for several weeks yet.) So we kept busy explaining to him what's happened this past month, and what to expect in the next month or two. He's gradually getting used to the idea that being confined to the hospital and to bed is not a curse, but a necessity, and that it is not a permanent state of affairs but a temporary expedient.

It was just GREAT to be able to reason with Nathan for the first time since the accident. It's great to have his mind back, even if his body is still catching up! We are unspeakably grateful to God, and to those who are praying so fervently and faithfully!

Special request: surgery #6

I'm writing a second blog today to ask for special prayer for Nathan as he goes into surgery for the sixth time, about 11am tomorrow, Salzburg time.

The doctors have been telling us for weeks that Nathan might have an "injury to the skull base, with leakage of cerebrospinal fluid." Only yesterday did the CT scan reveal that that is indeed the case. The surgery is needed to prevent any future infections from reaching his brain through his sinuses, and causing meningitis.

There are the general risks associated with any surgery, but this procedure, so close to the eyes and to the nerves leading to the nose and mouth, is particularly delicate. Please pray that the surgeons will have extraordinary wisdom and dexterity as they perform the surgery.

Hannah and I considered Nathan a hero today. When we told him about his fellow students playing in the 5-6" of snow we got overnight, he calmly said he wished he were playing along with them. He was equally calm as he underwent a lumbar tap to check his spinal fluid for infection. And in the evening, he clarified, "I'll be spending the night here again tonight?"

That Nathan, and Hannah and I, are "on an even keel" at all is surely a wonderful answer to the prayers of a vast host of family and friends who are upholding our family. We are very grateful. Thank you for keeping Nathan and his surgeons in your prayers today!

Hannah's turn :)

Yesterday was a very heartening day. Hannah's email to family this morning explains. Her letter will serve as my blog for the day. :) Hannah writes:

"The Lord is like a father to his children, tender and compassionate to those who fear him. For he understands how weak we are; he knows we are only dust." (Psalm 103:13,14)

That was how I felt: weak.

After three days of not seeing much improvement in Nathan, my heart cried out for some encouragement. I needed a boost. Wednesday morning, I got a call from Wilma (the sister of a friend from Cebu). Wilma has been a nurse in Vienna for more than 30 years. She told me that Salzburg doctors are experts in trauma cases. We have heard that several times, but it's good to be reminded. So I started the day with renewed strength. I told myself that even if this was another not-so-good day, it would still be a day closer to Nathan's full recovery!

As we went up the stairs to the ICU, we met Nathan's evening nurse on her way down. So right there and then, she gave us a pretty good report on Nathan! He had gotten a good night's sleep. In the morning, they sat him up on the edge of the bed and he managed to use the spoon to feed himself some soup! You can imagine how encouraged I was.

But that wasn't all. When the Lord encourages, he sometimes overdoes it. :) Nathan was wakeful and clear-minded. We brought him his laptop and he was able to use the touchpad to find the songs he wanted to listen to...and later even told me how to go to the song of his choice!

And that's not all...he finished a bottle of the high-calorie drink!

There's more. That evening, while Greg and I waited in the ICU waiting room for the nurses to finish some procedures with Nathan, a man came in. Usually Austrians are not forward when it comes to talking with strangers, much less foreigners; they worry that their English is not good. But not this man. He walked in, sat down, and initiated conversation with us, in English! When we told him why we were there, the first thing he said was: "Good thing it happened in Salzburg; the doctors here are good!" He went on to explain that he was there to see his father who, like Nathan, was hit by a car as a pedestrian...and is now paralyzed from the waist down! I shuddered. That could have been Nathan! I'm afraid to even think what it would be like if he too were paralyzed! I'm thankful our Father only gives us what we can handle!

All this is to say the Lord met me when I was down and out. He lifted my heart up to look to him for strength and hope.

Thank you for praying.

A marathon

Nathan's condition has not changed noticeably the past few days. He is still heavily medicated as he recovers from weeks of sedation. He continues to hallucinate on-and-off. At this point, Nathan's clarity of mind is our #1 concern, and the doctors' #1 concern (and the focus of our prayers).

It is not hard to understand Nathan's confusion. Likely he had never, before his accident, seen the sort of "fixator" that is attached to his left leg. He doesn't even remember the accident itself. So to wake up in an Austrian hospital with steel pins, bars, and bolts protruding from his leg must itself seem like a bad dream. When two shattered legs are combined with the effects of being in a chemically-induced coma for weeks, it is tough (literally and figuratively) to "put the pieces together." Nathan goes, from one minute to the next, from intelligently discussing music and literature with Hannah and me (and speaking some German with the nurses!) to seeing imaginary bugs and animals of all sorts hovering around that "fixator."

The surgeons who will do additional surgery on his head will not see him until he moves to intermediate care, but he can't leave the intensive-care unit for the intermediate-care unit until the hallucinations issue is resolved. So we are "on hold" for now.

As to the longer run, the leg surgeon told us yesterday that rehab on his legs will take some three months, once he achieves clarity of mind. The Austrian medical personnel are world-renowned for their expertise in treating accident victims, so we are thinking in terms of Nathan's staying on in Austria for rehab. We're looking into having Andrew and Stacey (Nathan's brother and sister) join us in Salzburg once school's out in December, and then having Hannah return to Manila with Stacey in January while I stay on with Nathan. This is shaping up to be a marathon.

A passage of Scripture that comes to mind when it comes to this marathon: Hebrews 10:35-36 and 12:1-2: "Do not throw away...confident trust in the Lord, no matter what happens.... Patient endurance is what you need now.... Since we are surrounded by such a huge crowd of witnesses to the life of faith, ...let us run with endurance the race that God has set before us. We do this by keeping our eyes on Jesus.... ...so that you don't become discouraged..."

Trouble enough for today :D

Today's issue: Nathan's continuing to hallucinate. More on that below.

But first, part of the passage I happened to read to Nathan this evening:

"...Don't worry about everyday life... Your heavenly Father already knows all your needs, and he will give you all you need from day to day if you live for him and make the Kingdom of God your primary concern.
So don't worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring its own worries. Today's trouble is enough for today." (Matthew 6:25, 32-34, New Living Translation)

Jesus' concluding his thoughts on why God's care for us should liberate us from worry by joking about our having "enough trouble for today" almost made me laugh out loud.

I have been worrying about how the next month or two will pan out. (It has become apparent that Nathan will be hospitalized at least until the end of the month.) Even Nathan himself has asked about how the hospital bill will be paid? He must have inherited his father's anxiety. :( We assured Nathan that insurance will pay the bill. (And that is to say nothing of the ways family and friends, in Manila, in Portland...and even the University of Portland center here in Salzburg, have been generously providing for us. I can and will (in a future blog) make a long list of the ways in which the Lord has cared for Nathan, and Hannah and me, and Stacey.)

But the fact is that, while the police investigator is doing a thorough job, we have had to engage an Austrian attorney to see to it that the driver's insurance coverage pays the bills. And getting our family together for Christmas is no simple matter when we are on three continents, and Salzburg is not home.

But those are all tomorrow's worries. And Jesus pointedly asks: "Cannot God be trusted to take care of such things? You've got your hands full with today's issues. (Today's issue: Nathan's continuing to hallucinate, on-and-off. He insists, by the way, he is not alone in that. He told Hannah: "We're all hallucinating...including you." And when I insisted that there is no dog threatening him, he was indignant: "Dad, don't tell me that. We all know full well that there's a dog there. Just because you're not afraid." :D

We left Nathan sleeping very peacefully. That was just wonderful. And I'll work on the legal and insurance issues tomorrow. In the meantime, I'll chuckle at Jesus' light-hearted analysis of our having had just "enough trouble" for today... and enjoy a light-hearted night's sleep.

Bad days...and better days

Yesterday was a difficult day at the hospital. Nathan's speech was more unintelligible than ever. He could not stay awake or speak loudly and clearly enough to be understood. That was discouraging for both him and us.

Yesterday's grace: The nurse who came on duty just before we left in the evening explained that they had begun giving Nathan a new (to him) drug that is supposed to ease his withdrawal from the sedative he had been on for almost four weeks. But the new combination of drugs, she explained, was to blame for the fact that we'd been unable to understand his speech all day long. She said that he'd soon be off the sedative altogether and that he would then be more wakeful. So we went home hoping for a better day today.

Sure enough, by morning they discontinued the sedative altogether, and continued giving only the three "transition" drugs. Nathan was wide awake all day long and speaking intelligibly. But toward the end of the day he began to hallucinate. Nathan himself used the word "terrifying" to describe what he was seeing (bugs and birds and other animals swarming around and on him).

Today's grace: At the end of the day, as we prepared to leave, Nathan was able to relax. It's hard to say whether he was just worn out, or if the Lord used Hannah's praying aloud for him, and my reading him Psalm 23 and Isaiah 41:10, to provide him enough peace to be dropping off to sleep as we left. But at least Hannah and I can sleep with a mental picture of Nathan's resting peacefully rather than crying out in fear.

Nathan is now being medicated for those hallucinations, but the nurse told us that it is a matter of cumulative effect, so we should not expect the medication to be effective before Monday. She also said, however, that some patients with brain injuries suddenly become perfectly lucid and calm. So we propose to pray that Nathan will be one of those exceptional patients who are suddenly, instantly, "clear as a bell."

As to our experiencing both good days and bad: Hannah reminded me of Ecclesiastes 7:14. My paraphrase of the New Living Translation: "Enjoy your good health and prosperity (and that of your family) while you can. But when hard times strike, realize that God is in both good times and bad. God's character can be relied upon, ...but we don't know from one minute to the next what our futures hold. Nothing is certain in this life. But those who walk by faith enjoy the good times...and trust God's good heart in bad times."

Upheld

Nathan is conscious enough now to be occasionally daunted by his circumstances. (When Hannah told him that he will have the external fixator on his left leg for another four weeks, he said: "A month?!" ) But his moments of discouragement are outnumbered by hours of valor. He has been incredibly patient and incredibly brave. I'm proud of him...and I'm grateful to that vast host of family and friends (and even people we do not even know personally) who are upholding him in prayer.

Nathan has been making good progress. In fact, they proposed to transfer him from the intensive-care unit to the intermediate-care unit yesterday. But they decided, at the last minute, to postpone the transfer because he had difficulty with the abrupt termination of the sedation medication he has received for more than three weeks. The next day or two will be particularly challenging mentally and emotionally as they continue "weaning" him from the sedative drugs to which his body has become accustomed. He needs the sort of strength Isaiah 40:27-31 describes:

"...Can you say the Lord does not see your troubles? ...The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of all the earth... He never grows faint or weary....He gives power to those who are tired and worn out; he gives strength to the weak. Even youths will become exhausted, and young men will give up. But those who wait on the Lord will find new strength. They will fly high on wings like eagles. They will run and not grow weary. They will walk and not faint."

He needs shoes! (but not as badly as he needs peace!)

Great news: Nathan needs shoes! I could hardly believe it!

The physical therapist began working with Nathan yesterday to restore a full range of motion in his right knee after three weeks in bed. The external fixator (see the footnote below) on his left leg for the next four weeks prevents any motion in his left knee. But the therapist asked us to bring him a pair of athletic shoes so he can get to his feet. That has been Nathan's desire for several days: "I wanna walk!" he's been saying. So now he'll get his wish. :)

What a difference a day can make! Day before yesterday they moved Nathan from his bed to a huge "chair" (for several hours). (Sitting up straighter raises his blood pressure, which increases his wakefulness.) But by the time we arrived, he wanted to get back in bed. Yesterday was different. He didn't want to go back to bed in the afternoon. (But they put him back anyway. "That's enough...for now," they explained.)

Not good news: Nathan's being gradually weaned from the heavy doses of sedative drugs he has been given these past three weeks results in his being able to remember and think with clarity about many things, but being very confused...and fearful...about other things. Diminishing the dosages of the drugs to which he's become accustomed creates a lot of mental and emotional confusion and distress. That confusion and fear, when combined with the vulnerability of being an invalid in the hospital, is very scary. Nathan desperately needs clarity of mind and peace of heart when it comes to trusting the hospital personnel in a situation that he sometimes finds bewildering and threatening. Pray that Nathan would experience Psalm 3:5-6: "I lay down and slept. I woke up in safety, for the Lord was watching over me. I am not afraid of ten thousand enemies who surround me on every side!"

(Fixator: a device that provides rigid immobilization of a fractured bone by means of rods attached to pins that are placed in or through the bone.)

Resting in His arms

Nathan is improving daily, and for that we are unspeakably grateful. But he continues to experience the disorientation and anxiety that are associated with being "weaned" from extended sedation. To see his eyes open wide in fright is painful for those of us who love him. The doctors and nurses assure us that being "agitated" as the sedatives are gradually diminished is normal and inevitable, but everyone agrees that it is difficult for all concerned. It is distressing for the patients and their families; and it is tiring for the nursing staff who have to care for patients who are restless, if not panicked, much of the time.

Nathan's being "agitated" much of the night last night resulted in the nurses' taking him out of his bed and putting him in a huge "chair" during the day today. To do so elevates his blood pressure, increasing his wakefulness, with a view to making him tired enough to sleep at night. But it doesn't appear to me to have worked as planned. Nathan spent much of the day unhappily sleeping in that chair (he was worn out after a poor night's sleep)... and then he again became "agitated" as we were leaving at the end of evening visiting hours.

The hospital does not allow us to stay with Nathan around the clock, but my prayer for Nathan is that he will experience the Lord's holding him--body and soul--in His arms, day and night (Psalm 68:19), and that Nathan's experience of God will mirror that of the Psalmist who observed that "just as a small child is quiet with its mother, yes, like a small child is my soul within me" (Psalm 131:2).

Again, it is absolutely wonderful to see Nathan improving daily. Would to God that he would be able to sleep "like a small child in his mother's arms" tonight as he senses the Lord's carrying him in His arms!

'Tis grace...

When the nurses last night removed the restraints on Nathan's arms (to turn him in bed), he yanked those hated tubes from his nose. Happily, the doctor said that if he begins eating on his own, he can get along without the tubes in his nose. So...

Today's greatest feat was (drum roll, please)... drinking chocolate milk through a straw. (It took Nathan two attempts to pull it off. I never realized just how much strength is required!)

Today's most frustrating feat was... Nathan's making a genuinely valiant effort to write us a message... only to discover, to our mutual frustration, that we had difficulty deciphering what he'd written.

T0day's happiest moment was... seeing Nathan's big smile as Josie put an earphone in his ear so he could hear a familiar song: "Don't Wake Me; I Plan on Sleeping."

Today's saddest moment was... hearing Nathan say, "I wanna go home." And when we began to explain that there is no way he can leave the hospital now... to hear him add, with tears in his eyes, "Please." That was some sort of low point.

More than one doctor and nurse have told us how "very lucky" Nathan is (whenever the condition of his brain comes up). They don't need to elaborate; I know it is a miracle that he survived and that he is coherent and can communicate. But I prefer to call it "grace." So I conclude tonight's blog with a couple of lines, not of Scripture, but of the hymn that both describes Nathan's experience and commemorates our Father's amazing grace:

"Through many dangers, toils, and snares, I have already come,
'tis grace hath led me safe thus fare, and grace will led me home."

A wise and generous Father

Nathan is more alert and more communicative every day. We interacted with him, on and off, for almost three hours after today's surgery on his ankle. He speaks just a few words at a time, and they are not easily understood, but his comments make perfect sense, given his perspective on his situation. (For example, he's not all that clear on why he's in the hospital, so he wants to leave immediately. Yesterday I thought that was silly, but today do I realize that it makes good sense. Because he's not clear on the extent of his injuries, he just wants to be someplace more pleasant.)

Nathan has both oxygen and feeding tubes in his nose, and he hates the latter. It bothers him incessantly and he repeatedly tries to yank it out whenever we remove the restraints on his arms. But we were surprised and delighted to hear him say of the tubes "It's the right one" that bothers him. (That tells us that he is able to distinguish right and left...and to say as much!) "It really hurts," he said. But when the nurse very kindly "got in his face" to ask if it was really more irritating than painful, he nodded "yes." And when she explained that, as unpleasant as it is, he has to live with it for now, he settled down (for a while). He's trying to cooperate--when he can remember what's going on. :)

One more example of our interaction, and the way it is both encouraging and frustrating for all of us: I heard Nathan say "Bed back." I quickly assured him that I'd tell the nurses that he had some problem with his back that was bothering him. That got him all the more frustrated. "Bed back," he kept repeating. I finally figured out that he wanted us to adjust the hospital bed--to put the bed "back." (The nurses had him sitting up, and he wanted to sleep.) As soon as we adjusted the bed, he relaxed.

As few as are Nathan's words, and as difficult as it is to understand his speech, I am reminded once again of Psalm 27:8: "My heart has heard you (Lord) say, '...Talk with me.'" What a joy it is to have those we love tell us what they want and how we can help them. That is exactly what our Father in heaven wants us to do. If he doesn't give us exactly what we ask for, as soon as we ask, it is not because he doesn't want what's best for us, but precisely because he does want what's best for us!

"Keep on asking," he says, "and you will be given what you ask for.... For everyone who asks, receives....." (if, in fact, what you are asking for will help you rather than harm you). You parents--if your children ask for a loaf of bread, do you give them a stone instead? Or if they ask for a fish, do you give them a snake? Of course not! (If your child is in the intensive-care unit and asks you to remove his feeding or oxygen tubes, or to take him out of the hospital right now, do you do so? Of course not! But will you adjust the bed to make him more comfortable? Absolutely!) If you sinful people know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your heavenly Father give good gifts to those who ask him!" (Matthew 7:7-11)

Hannah and I are unspeakably grateful for the good gifts our Father has been giving Nathan. And for the gift he is giving us. He is giving us our son back...by stages. Nathan's name (in Hebrew) means "he gave." We chose that name because Nathan is a gift from God. And now God is giving him to us a second time.

Our Father is both wise and generous. So "keep on asking" (for example, that Nathan will be granted the courage to keep on when the going is very tough).

Ankle surgery...and walking in God's life-giving light

It was an O.K. day at the hospital today. Nathan is frequently lucid. But he is lucid only on-and-off, and his speech is very slurred. They say that his mental confusion and slurred speech are inevitable symptoms of his "withdrawal" from weeks of sedation medication. It is a slow, difficult process to get his "feet back on the ground" mentally. Many of his utterances are incomprehensible, but some are intelligible...and some of his comments provide some comic relief. Early in the day today, he told the nurse that he was at the Manila airport. And he exclaimed to Hannah "Help! Get me outa here!"

Nathan's telling the nurse he's at the Manila airport definitely undermined his credibility in the ICU! :) But his being able to swallow and to squeeze the doctor's and nurse's hands on command entitled him to have the oxygen mask removed. (He still has an oxygen tube in his nose. He doesn't like that one bit, but it is less obtrusive than the big mask that covered his nose and mouth.)

He will have surgery on his left ankle tomorrow. That is good news in that the skin on that ankle has healed to the point that they are willing to make an incision to set the bones.

It is easy to lose sight of the fact that we were, just two weeks ago, praying that pressure on his brain would not cut Nathan's life short. He has come a long way! God has been gracious and we are grateful to Him and to you pray-ers. Join us in a celebratory prayer that looks back to being rescued from death, and forward to a life of "walking in His life-giving light:" "You have rescued me from death... So now I can walk in your presence, O God, in your life-giving light." (Psalm 56:13, New Living Translation) That's a good prayer for any of us, isn't it?

The good, the bad, the funny...and the serious

It was a very eventful day at the hospital.

The best news: Nathan is off the respirator! After more than two weeks on the respirator and two days of having his arms restrained to prevent him from yanking the tube out of his mouth, Nathan now wears just an oxygen mask over his nose and mouth. He doesn't like that mask (and is restrained to keep him from removing it), but now that he's rid of that respirator tube, he can talk. That is a very specific answer to the prayers of many (most notably, Hannah; she prayed the numbers on his respirator down, by stages, each day!).

Not good news: The intensive-care doctor who told us early on that his teeth are intact was mistaken (and very apologetic; it seems she was misinformed and none of us have been able to see his mouth with the respirator in place). The facial surgeon explained that Nathan's teeth and jaw were badly damaged in the accident. His chin has already been reconstructed, but it will be six months before he is ready for the oral surgery to restore his teeth. That is some very sobering news.

Good news: One of Nathan's close friends from Faith Academy, Josie Cederholm, now at home in Sweden, today arrived to visit. As with Hannah and me, Nathan is thrilled to see such a good friend when he is lucid, but he is still struggling with the effects of the gradually-reduced sedation. Please continue to pray that the Lord will give him sweet sleep (Psalm 127:2) and quiet his mind and heart when he is awake.

On a funny note: I hope it is not out-of-place to quote Nathan by way of giving you a feel for where he's at in terms of grasping, and not grasping, some very daunting realities. Nathan's first words to Hannah (well-muffled by the oxygen mask that covers his mouth): "Why are my hands tied?" He went on to announce, "I'm fine!" and tried to yank the mask off. He followed that up with, " I wanna get up!" When Hannah explained "No, you can't get up yet," Nathan indignantly asked, "Why not?!!!" (He can't see his legs.)

Seriously, we are very concerned that when Nathan becomes aware of the extent of his injuries (e.g., his shattered legs and teeth, and a jaw that may have to be "wired" shut for two weeks, if not operated on), he will be dismayed (to say the least). It is not too early to begin praying for Nathan's HEART--that the Lord will give him extraordinary COURAGE. Joshua 1:9 and Isaiah 41:10 come to mind: "...Be strong and courageous! Do not be afraid or discouraged. For the Lord your God is with you;" "Don't be afraid, for I am with you. Do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you. I will help you. I will uphold you with my victorious right hand."

"He gives sleep to His loved ones"

Tonight's good news: Nathan's brain has improved to the point that he is being weaned from the sedation medication he has received for more than two weeks.

Not-so-good news: That weaning process is difficult. After some encouragingly lucid moments this afternoon, Nathan was hallucinating this evening. Sometimes pleasant hallucinations; more often, upsetting hallucinations. Our attempts to assure him that he's not in danger seemed to be futile. Please pray that the Lord would allow him to sleep as his body adjusts to being free of the chemicals he has become accustomed to. Psalm 127:2 says God gives sleep to his loved ones. Join us in asking Him to do that for Nathan.

It was hard to see Nathan suffering from those hallucinations, but Lamentations 3:31-33 says "...the Lord shows compassion according to the greatness of his unfailing love. For he does not enjoy hurting people or causing them sorrow." We can look forward to tomorrow's new mercies.

Credit where credit is due (our "utang na loob")

The (third) surgery on Nathan's right leg took place this afternoon. We got to see Nathan about 90 minutes after he returned to the surgical intensive care unit. He opened his eyes as soon as he heard our voices. His eyes appeared to be more focused than we had seen so far, and Hannah excitedly told him to squeeze her hand if he recognized us, which he immediately did. That was encouraging, of course. :) Then he dropped off to sleep again, while we waited to talk with a surgeon.

The surgeon said it will be about three weeks before Nathan can put any weight on that right leg. His left leg is in worse shape (from the ankle, to the leg bones, to the knee). It is not yet ready for further surgery. Hopefully, it will improve within a few days to allow for further surgery. The surgeon emphasized, however, that Nathan's legs are not the key issue; Nathan's head (I gather the surgeon meant Nathan's brain) recovery is the key issue, and that the legs are very secondary. That kinda put things in perspective; but clearly, Nathan's head is better (his mind clearer) each day.

Talking with the doctor about bones reminded me of our conversation with a doctor several days ago...which conversation, in turn, reminded me of my reading in Psalm 139:13-15. The doctor explained that the trauma surgeons' job is to make sure that broken bones are properly aligned. Once the bones are aligned, she said, the pieces grow together on their own. Well, thought I, I don't know that that's all there is to it. Psalm 139:13-15 says that God Himself "knits" us or "weaves" us together in our mother's womb. So I want to give credit where credit is due. While we have Nathan's surgeons to thank for carefully and expertly aligning the shattered bones of his legs, is it not Nathan's Creator who is "knitting" or "weaving" those pieces back together? I figure we owe both Nathan's surgeons and Nathan's Creator an enormous debt of gratitude ("utang na loob" in Tagalog). The surgeons do the alignment and our Creator and Great Physician does the healing! :)

Grateful for His mercy; in need of new mercies

Nathan's condition is encouraging and distressing at the same time (if that is possible!). It is encouraging to see him making generally steady progress. It is distressing that the process is so slow and that he has so far to go.

He has already undergone three operations--the first the night of the accident (to stabilize both his legs and his face) and two since (one on his legs and the other on the bones of his face). Two or three more operations will be required. He is scheduled for his fourth operation mid-day tomorrow: the second operation on his right leg. He will have more surgery on his left leg and ankle at some future date. More surgery on his jaw may or may not be required. He is still on a respirator and he has to have his arms restrained much of the time to prevent him from yanking the tube from his mouth.

He cannot, of course, talk with that respirator tube in place, but he responds to our singing to him, or assuring him of God's care, or reading him letters from friends and family, in one of three ways: (1) tears fall from his eyes; or (2) he grimaces (I figured out that he's trying to weep aloud, but cannot, due to the tube in his mouth); or (3) his respiration monitor alarm goes off, indicating that he is not taking a breath (because he is weeping). So we do some singing and reading him letters, but we don't "overdo it." Please pray that Nathan will soon be able to get along without that respirator.

God has shown great mercy to Nathan and to us in a vast host of ways. (Just one example for now: The nurse on duty tonight is so kind to Nathan and to us.) I will try to blog further on God's mercies while Nathan is in surgery tomorrow. But we continue to feel the need of his "new-every-day" mercies.

"I will never forget this awful time, as I grieve over Nathan's losses and his suffering. Yet I still dare to hope when I remember this: The unfailing love of the Lord never ends. By His mercies Nathan has been kept from complete destruction. Great is His faithfulness; his mercies begin afresh each day. I say to myself: We can count on God not to abandon His children. Therefore I will hope in Him!" (adapted from Lamentations 3:20-24, New Living Translation)

Thinking about respirator tubes, and prayer

Two new developments at the hospital: First of all, Nathan was responsive, not only in the evening (as he has been the last couple days), but also in the early afternoon. He continues to move his arms and hands, squeezing our hands, frowning, and perhaps even trying to smile. That is encouraging. The other new development: they have had to restrain Nathan's arms to keep him from yanking the respirator tube out of his mouth. The fact that he is alert enough to try to get rid of that tube is good news. But sadly, the tube is a necessary annoyance until his breathing is stronger. Nathan initiates virtually every breath on his own now, but he needs the respirator to deepen his breathing in order to get enough oxygen.

One frustrating side effect of having that tube in place: Nathan cannot talk to us. I was reminded of Psalm 27:8: "My heart has heard you say, 'Come and talk with me.' And my heart responds, 'Lord, I am coming.'" (New Living Translation)

One of the joys of relationship is hearing the voice of our loved ones. That that respirator tube prevents Nathan from talking to us is distressing to him and to us. We are looking forward to getting rid of that miserable tube! It is sad, and hard, to relate to a loved one who doesn't talk.

I'm not entirely sure why God so rarely speaks audibly (except that it invariably scares the hearers spitless!). But our Father's invitation (or plea) in Psalm 27:8 makes it clear that hearing from us is important to him. He knows full well what's going on, and what's on our minds and hearts. But He wants to hear us talk to him. Reason enough to pray.

Courage to keep on

Today's scenario at the hospital resembled yesterday's in many respects. Two encouraging developments on the medical front: Nathan's inter-cranial pressure monitor was removed today (because pressure on the brain is no longer a problem), and he has begun trying to breathe on his own. He still needs the respirator to supplement his own breathing, but he initiates each and every breath on his own.

Just like yesterday, he became responsive at seven p.m., moving his arms and squeezing our hands. It is wonderful to have him conscious of our presence, but it is awful to see him having to endure the suffering associated with having his airways suctioned and having cold packs around his body (to reduce his temperature). I wiped one after another tear from Nathan's eyes and cheeks as he seemed to be trying to speak. (Of course, he cannot speak with the respirator tube in his mouth.)

The passages of Scripture that seem to best describe God's agenda for Nathan, and for his family, at this juncture:
"Wait patiently for the Lord; be brave and courageous; yes, wait patiently for the Lord.... The Lord gives his people strength; the Lord blesses them with peace.... So be strong and take courage, all you who put your hope in the Lord!" (Psalms 27:14; 29:11; 31:24, New Living Translation)

Please continue to pray God's mercy on Nathan. It is imperative that his wounds and his lungs not become seriously infected, and he needs a lot of strength, both physical and emotional, to keep on keeping on.

Surprised by joy!

When we got to the hospital after Nathan's surgery, the doctor looked serious. They had not, he explained, been able to finish the surgery on Nathan's face. They'd finished the eye sockets and cheekbones, but after almost four hours of surgery, they decided they'd have to leave the jaw for next week. That was disappointing. I'd been looking forward to Nathan's waking up after more than ten days of sedation, but the doctor told us they wouldn't be waking him only to anesthesize him again sometime soon . But we comforted ourselves with the thought that progress is being made. (The doctor added that the biggest threats to further progress at this point are infections in Nathan's wounds or in his lungs.)

And then... just before visiting hours ended, I suggested to Hannah that I sing Nathan the song that had become a bedtime tradition with Stacey ("Jesus Loves Me"). Hannah seemed to think it was a bit corny, but she joined me in song. Imagine my surprise (almost shock!) when I saw and felt Nathan's hand move in mine. I told Hannah as much, and she told me I must have been imagining things. I began wondering aloud whether I was, in fact, imagining things, when I saw a teardrop course down his cheek. Again, Hannah was doubtful. "It'd just the ointment on his eyes," she said. But then Hannah herself was dumbfounded to feel his other hand squeeze hers. The two of us were so excited we could hardly contain ourselves. I told Hannah that it must have been our singing that was the "secret" to Nathan's responsiveness; so Hannah suggested that we sing "Amazing Grace." As we did so, Nathan began moving one of his legs, both arms, his head and face, and even wiggling his shoulders and chest. I suppose he might have spoken had he not had the respirator tube taped in his mouth!

It was almost as exciting (and almost as unnerving) as watching someone in a morgue become responsive! (The doctor had explicitly told us that we should not expect that Nathan would "come to" by opening his eyes and saying, "Hi, Mom and Dad," but I must admit that that is precisely what I was expecting. So to have his motionless figure, with eyes still shut, suddenly begin moving was the most wonderful shock of my life.)

What a wonderful reenactment of the Luke 7:11-17 story that has meant so much to Hannah from the very day we got the phone call about Nathan's accident:
"...Jesus went with his disciples to the village of Nain, with a great crowd following him. A funeral procession was coming out as he approached the village gate. The boy who had died was the only son of a widow... When the Lord saw her, his heart overflowed with compassion... Then he walked over to the coffin... 'Young man,' he said, 'get up.' Then the dead boy sat up and began to talk to those around him! And Jesus gave him back to his mother." That last phrase has been precious to Hannah from the very hour we got the phone call from Austria. The Luke account concludes by saying that the crowd were awestruck. "We have seen the hand of God at work today," they said. And "the report of what Jesus had done that day spread all over Judea and even out across its borders."

The report of what God has done for Nathan and for Hannah and me and our family will likewise spread from one end of the globe to the other. We have praying friends on virtually every continent! THANK YOU for praying...and for continuing to pray. Please pray that our Great Physician will prevent infections in Nathan's wounds or in his lungs. (The sooner he gets off that respirator the better; it tends to cause infections in the lungs. And he has a rash, on and off, that the doctors attribute to his being allergic to some of the antibiotics they have given him to deal with the threat of worsening infections.)

We are thrilled at what God has been doing for Nathan and for us! And we are grateful to you ongoing pray-ers!

"...My heart is filled with joy; I burst out in songs of thanksgiving!" (Psalm 28:7)

Gott sei Dank!

Yesterday was a difficult day at the hospital for Hannah and me. Unpleasant surprises (e.g., the trauma surgeon's saying that he proposed to start with surgery on Nathan's broken ankles (we knew his legs are broken, but no one had told us his ankles are broken!). Disconcerting changes in plans (e.g., because there is some infection in Nathan's legs, they will be leaving the external "scaffolding" in place for 5-6 weeks). At one point, the surgeon said that he didn't propose to do surgery today at all. That was discouraging.

Our worst scare came when the ICU staff said an opthamologist had been called in to look at Nathan's eyes. They had told us his eyes were fine, so we were fearful that things had changed for the worse.

By the time we left in the evening, we were worn out, but things were looking up. The opthamologist finally showed up, and explained that their calling him was a good sign. Nathan's brain condition had improved to the point that they could dilate his pupils to examine his retinas. Dilating his pupils was something they hadn't dare do before (they had been watching his pupils to alert them to sudden brain problems). And the surgeon decided he'd go ahead with the leg/ankle surgery today after all.

And today was a great day. Nathan tolerated the the 6-7 hour surgery well and he looks better than ever. They got him all cleaned him up and styled his hair to match the photos Hannah had taped up beside his bed! :) Said the nurse, "He's a nice boy." (Since she's never seen him conscious, I assume she means he's a nice-looking boy.) And the ICU doctor explained that the external "scaffolding" on Nathan's legs is the best, and least painful, approach to effecting the healing badly-shattered leg bones. So far, so good.

Nathan heads back to surgery at 7:30 am tomorrow for the bones of his face (his jaw, cheekbones, and the back of his eye sockets). After that, they'll begin gradually waking him up. (He'll have one more operation next week on the ankle that the surgeon did not do today, as it was somewhat swollen.)

Nathan has a long road ahead, but we are making progress, and Hannah and I are happy and grateful...to the doctors and nurses, to you pray-ers, and to God Himself. Gott sei Dank! Thank God!

Update on Nathan

Unless Nathan's situation deteriorates overnight, they will operate on Nathan's ankles and legs tomorrow.

They do not, however, propose to replace the stainless steel "scaffolding" (external stabilizers) protruding from both legs with rods hidden inside the legs. Some degree of infection in the legs makes it inadvisable to insert the rods, so Nathan will have that external "scaffolding" in place for the next five or six weeks. I think that is likely to be one of a host of disconcerting developments for Nathan over the next few weeks, so prayers for his emotional recovery will be in order once he is slowly awakened (after the proposed surgery on his face on Thursday).

Persisting in prayer

Hannah and I were reminded Sunday evening about the need for persistence in prayer from two memorable stories: the Exodus 17 story about Aaron and Hur holding Moses' weary arms aloft in order to secure the victory over the Amalekites, and the Luke 18 story about the widow who received what she asked for (even from a no-good judge!) because she simply would not give up asking.

Thank you, friends, for persisting in prayer, as you are able.

Medical update

As you know, Nathan has been unconscious and dependent on a ventilator for more than a week. They yesterday began reducing his sedation to see if he can begin to breathe on his own. If he does so, and if there is no increase in inter-cranial pressure, and if there is no fever, even with reduced sedation, they will proceed with surgery on his legs on Thursday and do at least one operation on his skull on Monday. (Two operations on his skull may be necessary.)

If they are not able to proceed with the leg surgery on Thursday, Nathan will probably need two operations on his legs: one to remove the stainless steel "scaffolding" currently in place, and then a second operation (to insert the rods) after he heals from the first operation. They would prefer, of course, to do both leg procedures at once (i.e., remove the "scaffolding" and insert the rods at the same time). So please pray that Nathan begins to breathe on his own right away, and that there is no increase in inter-cranial pressure from now on. Please pray also that he does not begin running a fever.

"Swooping" to Nathan's rescue

Family friend and long-time missionary to Africa Dave Hall put us onto a passage of Scripture that has been an encouragement to Hannah and me: Deuteronomy 33:26-27a. In the New Living Translation, it reads: "There is no one like the God of Israel. He rides across the heavens to help you, across the skies in majestic splendor. The eternal God is your refuge, and his everlasting arms are under you..."

What a wonderful reminder of the sort of God we have as Father! There is no one like Him! He is like a powerful "super-hero" soaring through the skies and, to use Hannah's word, "swooping" down to help us, his strong arms upholding us. The super-heroes of the movies that have been popular recently cannot compare to Him when it comes to power to save, nor can they compare to Him when it comes to a passion to come to the rescue of the helpless. That is just what we need...and that is who He is.

I was, this past Sunday, surprised and delighted to discover the same "swooping" "super-hero" theme in Psalm 18. David composed that psalm on the day the Lord rescued him from his enemies. Sunday was that sort of great day for us. Nathan's CT scan revealed no new problems. I adapted the New Living Translation of Psalm 18 to celebrate Nathan's good day. Nathan is by no means out of the woods yet, but Sunday's CT scan was cause for rejoicing and we invite you to join us in a celebratory psalm:

"We love you, Lord, you are our strength. You are our fortress and our savior; you are the rock in whom we find protection. Your are our shield, our strength, our stronghold....

Nathan's death stared us in the face... but in our distress we cried out to you, we prayed to you for help. And you heard us; our cry reached your ears....

You opened the heavens and came down... You flew, soaring on the wings of the wind....

You reached down from heaven and rescued Nathan; you drew him out of deep waters.

The Lord lives! Blessed be our rock! May the God of our salvation be exalted!"

Psalm 18:1-2, 5-6, 9-10, 16, 46

Thank you, friends, for calling on the Lord to save Nathan. He has been doing just that, and we want to honor Nathan's savior from death...

But Nathan is far from "out of the woods." So please join us in continuing to pray Psalm 6:2-4 and 9 for him:

"Have compassion on Nathan, Lord, for he is weak. Heal him, Lord; his body is in agony.... Return, O Lord, and rescue him. Save him because of your unfailing love.

We know you have heard our plea, that you will answer our prayer."

Gruss Gott!

A friend has, for months, been urging me to write a blog, but only now am I inclined to do so, as there may be those who would like emailed updates on Nathan's condition without having to wade through my thoughts and feelings as I write. So I will try to keep my emailed updates to-the-point and reserve my "musing" for this blog.

Yesterday was a difficult day. Our hopes had been climbing higher and higher the last couple days, only to have Nathan take a (life-threatening) turn for the worse yesterday morning. The ICU doctor who had been so cheery, even bubbly, a couple of days earlier seemed somber as she told us that the inter-cranial pressure on his brain had suddenly soared. They had to grab a bag to ventilate him (hyperventilate him) to bring the pressure down as they ran through the halls to the CT scan in an attempt to discover the cause. To no avail. No inter-cranial bleeding showed up on the scan; so they have no idea what caused the inter-cranial pressure to spike. They know he needs rest more than ever, so they have deepened the level of his sedation. And explained to us that the prognosis is uncertain with trauma to the brain. They emphasized that the outcome of brain injuries is less predictable than the outcome of injuries to other parts of the body.

When evening visiting hours ended, the doctor told us that we should go home. Like Nathan, he said, we need our rest. But I told Hannah over dinner that Nathan's setback had "taken the wind out of my sails" and wondered if I would have as much trouble sleeping as I have the last few nights. To my surprise, God graciously gave me a good night's rest. When I did wake up in the wee hours of the morning, I happened to read Psalm 3:5 and Psalm 4:8: "I lay down and slept. I woke up in safety, for the Lord was watching over me....I will lie down in peace and sleep, for you alone, O Lord, will keep me safe." And I managed to go back to sleep and get a couple more hours' rest.

And I was encouraged this morning to read Lamentations 3:20-33. My paraphrase, based on the New Living Translation: "I will never forget this awful time, as I grieve over Nathan's loss. (Every day I get a kick out of the quaintness of Salzburg and hate to think that Nathan will miss it all. Right now as I type this, great big fluffy snowflakes are falling; and Nathan is missing it.) Yet I still dare to hope when I remember this: The unfailing love of the Lord never ends! By the Lord's mercies Nathan has been kept from complete destruction. (Imagine! Nathan's eyes and his teeth emerging unscathed when the bones under his eyes and his jaw were broken! And virtually no injuries to his internal organs!) Great is the Lord's faithfulness; his mercies begin afresh each day. I say to myself, 'We are God's children. So we can count on him to be there for us!' The Lord is wonderfully good to those who wait for him and seek him. So it is good to wait quietly for salvation from the Lord..... The Lord does not abandon anyone forever. Though he brings grief, he also shows compassion according to the greatness of his unfailing love; he does not enjoy hurting people or causing them sorrow."

To my amazement, Austrians customarily greet one another, not by saying "Guten tag," but by saying "Gruss Gott" ("greet God" or "salute God"). People on the street are routinely urging one another to acknowledge God! What an appropriate way to honor Nathan's savior from death! (The police accident investigator yesterday showed us how the huge van that struck Nathan was damaged. The heavy side mirror was completely sheared off by the force of hitting Nathan's head, and the wheelwell and mudflap were splashed with blood from Nathan's legs.) It is a miracle that Nathan survived at all. Gruss Gott!