Six years ago, when we as a family were anxious about moving from our much-loved home in Baguio City to the heat and congestion of Metro Manila, Hannah and I were encouraged by Isaiah 52:12: "The LORD will go before you..." I have, over and over, been reminded of that passage as we have moved through the saga of Nathan's accident. It applied, not only to Nathan's transfer from the Salzburg hospital to rehab in Klosterneuburg, but equally to our move to Portland. The most remarkable part of our transfer to Portland was not the Lord's provision of housing (we are staying in my parents' home), but the way the Lord matched us with expert medical specialists.
As we were making plans to leave Klosterneuburg for Portland, I happened to receive email from Jan Naas, Hannah's roommate of 25 years ago (when Hannah was studying in Portland and we were dating). Jan has been working at Portland's highly-regarded Oregon Health and Science University (OHSU) for more than 30 years. I told Jan that Nathan would be needing the care of an oral and maxillo-facial surgeon and a orthopedic surgeon as well as rehab. Jan immediately contacted her doctor friends and, even before we had left Austria, helped me arrange appointments with the head of OHSU's residency program in oral and maxillo-facial surgery, and with one of only two orthopedic surgeons in Portland who specialize in trauma cases. Both doctors are professors at OHSU. Within 24 hours of our arrival in Portland, Nathan was seeing those distinguished young doctors who squeezed him into their appointment calendars at the request of colleagues who are Jan's friends. That was remarkable.
But that the the LORD had "gone before" us was highlighted in a small but poignant way on our arrival at the lobby of the OHSU Physician's Pavilion. There, taped to a wheelchair at the front door, was a sign "Reserved for Nathan Haskell." Not only had Jan helped arrange appointments with some particularly expert doctors, but she had thought of everything--from reserving a wheelchair, to showing us around, and even treating us to Starbucks and to lunch. Her kindness in those "little things" served to remind me that we never drop off God's "radar."
Nathan is making progress every day. We will, later this morning, see the prosthodontist who is working with Nathan's oral and maxillo-facial surgeon to reconstruct his jaw and teeth. Nathan is less and less dependent on his crutches, and the orthopedic surgeon has begun removing the stainless steel pins from the external fixator that reinforces the bones in his left leg, now that the bone is growing steadily. We don't know if the nerve in that lower leg and foot will come back or not; time will tell. But it is enough to know, for now, that the LORD is going before us.
Perhaps Isaiah was echoing Moses' words as he urged God's people to move on into territory that was new to them, and daunting: "The Lord himself goes before you and will be with you. He will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged." (Deuteronomy 31:8, NIV)
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
Friday, February 8, 2008
On patience and "the magnificent future God has planned for us"
I just ran across J.B. Phillips' paraphrase of the passage (Romans 8:18-25) I quoted in my previous blog. The Apostle Paul's thoughts on endurance, hope, and patience:
"In my opinion, whatever we may have to go through now is less than nothing compared with the magnificent future God has planned for us. The whole creation is on tiptoe to see the wonderful sight of the sons of God coming into their own. The world of creation cannot as yet see reality, not because it chooses to be blind, but because in God's purpose it has been so limited - yet it has been given hope. And the hope is that in the end the whole of created life will be rescued from the tyranny of change and decay, and have its share in that magnificent liberty which can only belong to the children of God!
It is plain to anyone with eyes to see that at the present time all created life groans in a sort of universal travail. And it is plain, too, that we who have a foretaste of the Spirit are in a state of painful tension, while we wait for that redemption of our bodies which will mean that at last we have realized our full sonship in him. We were saved by this hope, but in our moments of impatience let us remember that hope always means waiting for something that we haven't yet got. But if we hope for something we cannot see, then we must settle down to wait for it in patience."
"In my opinion, whatever we may have to go through now is less than nothing compared with the magnificent future God has planned for us. The whole creation is on tiptoe to see the wonderful sight of the sons of God coming into their own. The world of creation cannot as yet see reality, not because it chooses to be blind, but because in God's purpose it has been so limited - yet it has been given hope. And the hope is that in the end the whole of created life will be rescued from the tyranny of change and decay, and have its share in that magnificent liberty which can only belong to the children of God!
It is plain to anyone with eyes to see that at the present time all created life groans in a sort of universal travail. And it is plain, too, that we who have a foretaste of the Spirit are in a state of painful tension, while we wait for that redemption of our bodies which will mean that at last we have realized our full sonship in him. We were saved by this hope, but in our moments of impatience let us remember that hope always means waiting for something that we haven't yet got. But if we hope for something we cannot see, then we must settle down to wait for it in patience."
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
On waiting patiently: "This is taking forever!"
Hannah and I tend to look at how far Nathan has come. When I sent her a text message about his walking with crutches, she replied that she wishes she were around to see it. (When she last saw him, he was wheelchair-bound.) She texted: "Not long ago his sitting up was an amazing feat!"
Nathan, on the other hand, tends to focus on how far he has to go. He walks with two crutches--slowly, and with difficulty. (Doctors say that three things heal particularly slowly: bones, nerves, and emotions. Nathan's injuries are to bones and nerves.) And he has months of oral surgery ahead. While he rarely complains, he did express frustration the other day. Said he: "This is taking forever!"
Both points of view are realistic. He is making headway, but it is a slow process...and difficult.
Nathan's accident, and his recovery, have become, for me, a metaphor with respect to the shape of the world in which we live and the work to which we are called. Things are quickly and easily loused up, or even destroyed, but they are only slowly and painfully restored or set right.
Adam's and Eve's Fall into sin took but a moment, but the long-term effects were devastating, and reversing them is a slow process, and difficult. It is not as easy to straighten things out as it is to louse them up. Whether it is bodies that are broken, or our environment that is polluted or destroyed, or relationships that are ruptured, or injustices that are perpetuated, we should not be surprised that restoring things is an uphill battle, a painfully slow process. That is reality; and, as our young friends are fond of saying, we've gotta "deal with it." We must not give way to despair, but rather keep on laboring at setting things right, energized by the hope that there is a Day coming when things will, at last, be set right.
"The creation waits in eager expectation...for the creation was subjected to frustration... The whole creation has been groaning... Not only so, but we ourselves...groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for our adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies. For in this hope we were saved.... Who hopes for what he already has? But...we wait for it patiently." (Romans 8:19-25, New International Version)
Nathan, on the other hand, tends to focus on how far he has to go. He walks with two crutches--slowly, and with difficulty. (Doctors say that three things heal particularly slowly: bones, nerves, and emotions. Nathan's injuries are to bones and nerves.) And he has months of oral surgery ahead. While he rarely complains, he did express frustration the other day. Said he: "This is taking forever!"
Both points of view are realistic. He is making headway, but it is a slow process...and difficult.
Nathan's accident, and his recovery, have become, for me, a metaphor with respect to the shape of the world in which we live and the work to which we are called. Things are quickly and easily loused up, or even destroyed, but they are only slowly and painfully restored or set right.
Adam's and Eve's Fall into sin took but a moment, but the long-term effects were devastating, and reversing them is a slow process, and difficult. It is not as easy to straighten things out as it is to louse them up. Whether it is bodies that are broken, or our environment that is polluted or destroyed, or relationships that are ruptured, or injustices that are perpetuated, we should not be surprised that restoring things is an uphill battle, a painfully slow process. That is reality; and, as our young friends are fond of saying, we've gotta "deal with it." We must not give way to despair, but rather keep on laboring at setting things right, energized by the hope that there is a Day coming when things will, at last, be set right.
"The creation waits in eager expectation...for the creation was subjected to frustration... The whole creation has been groaning... Not only so, but we ourselves...groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for our adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies. For in this hope we were saved.... Who hopes for what he already has? But...we wait for it patiently." (Romans 8:19-25, New International Version)
Friday, February 1, 2008
On "being mother and father"
On checking my last blog date, I was chagrined to discover that it's been ten days since I last blogged. :(
By way of trying to account for my deliquency as a blogger: I have, since January 3, been quite stretched, trying to be both mother and father to Nathan. It has been more challenging than ever as I made arrangements to travel, spent 48 hours in transit, and on landing in Portland, have begun to make decisions and make arrangements with respect to his medical care here.
I, just this morning, figured out why it is so stressful: It seems to me that to "be both father and mother" is almost impossible. (I am newly impressed with the way Paul described the way he managed to take on both roles in his ministry to the young believers in Thessalonica: "...We were as gentle among you as a mother...," while, at the same time, "we treated each of you as a father... We pleaded with you, encouraged you, and urged you to live your lives in a way that God would consider worthy." (1 Thess. 2:7, 11-12, New Living Translation) Paul the Apostle did it all!!) But it is no wonder Nathan and I feel the absence of Hannah.
I will, tomorrow, get right back to blogging on God's remarkable provision. But, for today, I am feeling the lack of what He has not provided: anyone who could take Hannah's place as wife and mother.
Here's to Hannah (who is not only a wonderful wife and mother, but a terrific counselor, professor, and administrator!):
"She is worth far more than rubies.
Her husband has full confidence in her....
She brings him good, not harm, all the days of her life.
She gets up while it is still dark....
...and her lamp does not go out at night
(especially while finishing her doctoral dissertation!)
She is clothed with strength and dignity;
she can laugh at the days to come.
She speaks with wisdom,
and faithful instruction is on her tongue.
She watches over the affairs of her household
and does not eat the bread of idleness.
Her children arise and call her blessed;
her husband also, and he praises her:
'Many women do noble things but you surpass them all.'"
(Proverbs 31:10-12, 15, 18, 25-29, New International Version)
By way of trying to account for my deliquency as a blogger: I have, since January 3, been quite stretched, trying to be both mother and father to Nathan. It has been more challenging than ever as I made arrangements to travel, spent 48 hours in transit, and on landing in Portland, have begun to make decisions and make arrangements with respect to his medical care here.
I, just this morning, figured out why it is so stressful: It seems to me that to "be both father and mother" is almost impossible. (I am newly impressed with the way Paul described the way he managed to take on both roles in his ministry to the young believers in Thessalonica: "...We were as gentle among you as a mother...," while, at the same time, "we treated each of you as a father... We pleaded with you, encouraged you, and urged you to live your lives in a way that God would consider worthy." (1 Thess. 2:7, 11-12, New Living Translation) Paul the Apostle did it all!!) But it is no wonder Nathan and I feel the absence of Hannah.
I will, tomorrow, get right back to blogging on God's remarkable provision. But, for today, I am feeling the lack of what He has not provided: anyone who could take Hannah's place as wife and mother.
Here's to Hannah (who is not only a wonderful wife and mother, but a terrific counselor, professor, and administrator!):
"She is worth far more than rubies.
Her husband has full confidence in her....
She brings him good, not harm, all the days of her life.
She gets up while it is still dark....
...and her lamp does not go out at night
(especially while finishing her doctoral dissertation!)
She is clothed with strength and dignity;
she can laugh at the days to come.
She speaks with wisdom,
and faithful instruction is on her tongue.
She watches over the affairs of her household
and does not eat the bread of idleness.
Her children arise and call her blessed;
her husband also, and he praises her:
'Many women do noble things but you surpass them all.'"
(Proverbs 31:10-12, 15, 18, 25-29, New International Version)
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