Prayers for Aunt Barb

We pray tonight for my aunt Barb, whose husband Jerry left this earth late last night. It happened so fast; I can't believe he will not be there when we go to Michigan in just a couple weeks. We will miss Jerry's hearty laugh and constantly but good-naturedly teasing Aaron about the Lions. He never got to see the Lions win the Super Bowl, but he will be happy that in heaven there are no 0-and-16 teams...

Barb has family and friends surrounding her with support, but the weeks ahead when things quiet down will be difficult. I am sorry I cannot be there this week but glad it is just a couple weeks until we will see her.


You who live in heaven
Hear the prayers of those of us who live on earth
Who are afraid of being left by those we love and
Who get hardened in the hurt
Do you remember when you lived down here where we all scrape
To find the faith to ask for daily bread....

I know you bore our sorrows
I know you feel our pain
I know that it would not hurt any less even if it could be explained....

And so, you've been here all along I guess
It's just your ways and you are just plain hard to get

--Rich Mullins, "Hard to Get"

"You can't conceive, nor can I, the appalling strangeness of the mercy of God."

--Graham Greene

About Those Ducks

I have an announcement coming soon about those ducks. The ones in rows.

Meanwhile, please drop a prayer for my uncle Jerry (and aunt Barb), if you're so inclined. A few weeks ago he had a blood clot in his leg and in the course of testing they found he has cancer in his pancreas and liver. He is supposed to start chemo next week but went back in the hospital Sunday with something else going on in his brain, it seems--not sure yet what that was about.

UPDATE: Jerry did apparently have some sort of stroke, but it is NOT cancer in his brain. He will start chemo soon.

Thanks.

Going to Say Goodbye

Aaron’s dear grandmother passed away last night. She had been fighting cancer for months and we knew the time was close. We are thankful Aaron was able to see her a few weeks ago—she even made it to his brother’s wedding. He has an awesome picture of her wearing his sunglasses. Grandma was always so full of life and energy, so caring, so dedicated to praying every day for each of her family members, the hub and the rock of the family. She will be greatly missed. And Grandpa is struggling with changes in his life due to his failing memory as well as this loss. We appreciate your prayers for the whole family.

So Aaron will be going back to Michigan this week to join the family in saying goodbye. We are not sure of the details yet—they are trying to make sure Aaron’s cousin who is in the Marines can make it from California—although I scouted out flights today. They do still offer bereavement fares . . . but they are still really expensive. But eh, what can you do?

Aaron has to give the sermon tomorrow. Then we are going to try to get out to see Indiana Jones, I think, for a little down time . Harrison makey everything better.

For SCC and Family

I have a clear picture of the sunny summer day when I was perhaps seven or eight, with its blue sky and green grass and the grasshoppers languishing on our dusty gravel driveway. My mom came home from the store, I think, and I wandered up from playing by the barn as my dad also came out to greet her and then suddenly turned serious, trying to find the way to tell her what he'd learned that day as a fire/rescue volunteer. "Something bad happened today," he said. "Mary Anne Wilson ran over her own son in their driveway."

I remember my mother gasping and holding onto him, crying, as I shuffled around nearby, half-playing, trying not to look like I was listening in as my dad told how the boy had been riding his bike fast down their long, curvy, country driveway as she drove up. This woman was a local teacher and had three or four boys ranging from a little younger than me to around my older brother's age. Our small town knew them well and I'm sure extended much grace, and yet . . . the shadow of what happened hung over her for a long time. In a few years she returned to teaching.

I read this morning that Christian musician Steven Curtis Chapman lost a daughter in a driveway accident. And while it's strange to me in a way to be part of blogging about the tragedy of a family I don't even know--somehow feels a little borderline gossipy--I keep flashing back to that moment in my yard when I saw my mom's heart break for another mother's lost child. And we do have a connection (and I don't just mean that whole smart-aleck autograph incident) because their family helped unite ours by giving us a grant to help with adoption expenses. And so my heart and prayers go out to them, and I ask for yours too.

Surgery Report 1: So Far So Good

Real quick because I am TIRED and it's way too late: Everything went great today with the surgery. They did replace his valve as well as the weak section of the aorta because they thought it would last longer. He is in the cardiac ICU with his very own nice nurse. He's been very stable, good heartbeat and breathing, and they took the breathing tube out tonight. But he is still totally stoned and probably won't even remember we were there. Hopefully he may get out of ICU tomorrow but we'll see how he responds when they make him move from bed to chair in the morning.

Please keep praying for no complications, for waking up to be gentle, for pain to be well controlled (seems to be so far), for strength and perseverance to do what they ask him to do to get strong again.

I had Aaron's parents (Rick and Joyce), Pastor Jim, Nancy, and Billie keeping me company today along with all of you waiting and praying. It's good to be loved. Thank you, friends.

The Only Way Out Is Through

God is good, all the time.

What a long, strange trip these past couple of weeks have been.

We had our garage sale, and we got closer to (paying for) bringing Anna home.
We had Mother's Day, and strangely enough I was validly wished a happy one.
We had a court date set and high hopes of seeing family and friends on our way to Ethiopia in just a few short weeks.
And then . . .
And then . . .
Why can't we just be happy and excited for one week? Why does something always have to go wrong? Seriously, God . . . what the heck?

Aaron went in to his cardiologist for a routine visit to get his meds updated. The doctor read his charts and a test from last summer and went to check something. When he came back, he recommended surgery. As the kids say . . . WTF?

We waited through the week to get set up with an appointment and go up to Portland for more tests and consultation with a surgeon experienced with Marfan Syndrome. When three doctors (or are they lawyers?) walk in the room, you know they mean business. They determined that Aaron's aortic root (where the main artery, the aorta, comes out of the heart) has expanded right to the point where the risk increases so much that they recommend surgery.

Thanks for noticing that, you know, last summer.

Then again, thanks for not noticing, or we wouldn't have Anna.

The surgeon said he should get it taken care of and there's no reason to wait. Uhh, that you know of. I got one, how 'bout this: We're adopting a baby. In about 6 weeks. In Ethiopia.

Long doctoral pause.

Oh.
Wow.
Hmmm.
"First let me say I think it's wonderful you're doing that." Yeah, you're just stalling now, doc.

We talked about how the adoption process works, how we wanted to travel in six weeks and how little control we have over the process. Could Aaron travel first and have the surgery late July? He said wasn't his first choice but didn't think it was crazy to consider; he wasn't ruling it out. But . . . it adds risk. How much risk? Unfunny thing about Marfan Syndrome: no one really has any idea. We talked about surgery late July, but we needed to think about it and he wanted to show the tests to more people and think about it. We'd talk Monday. Fair enough.

So, that'll kinda put a damper on your big baby party weekend.

Some people seemed to think this was a no-brainer decision, but trust me, it was pure agony. We wanted to get Anna home as soon as possible, as everything had seemed to be lined up perfectly for, and to share the incredible experience of traveling to Ethiopia for our first week together as a family. And most importantly, we were terrified that doing surgery before court or even just the agency finding out about this before court would jeopardize our ability to bring her home at all. Then there were all the other summer plans so long anticipated and worked for and prayed for: for Aaron to lead the teenagers he's been growing so close to all year at Young Life camp, for him to be in his friend of 20 years' wedding, to see our distant family members and friends . . .

I had a brief conversation with the doctor Monday, we kept thinking and talking with a few wise friends, and our pendulum began to swing from we'll wait to we won't wait. But the doctor still hadn't looked over the tests again, so I stayed by the phone the rest of the week. Or rather the phone stayed by me. Seriously, I took it to the mailbox and the bathroom. That kind of companionship will make you crazy.

Last Friday we finally had a real conversation with the surgeon and decided to do the surgery Wednesday, June 6. They will replace a section of Aaron's aorta with a plastic section. They will also either repair his damaged valves at that spot or replace it with a mechanical one, in which case he'll be on blood thinners, so we are now hoping for a repair job. He will be in the hospital about a week.

The doctor said the soonest he could possibly travel would be 4 weeks, but they say 6-8 weeks for full recovery. People keep saying their 80-year-old grannies were out riding motorcycles after 60 days or whatever, so we'll see. When we heard our court date was successful, I told the agency about our situation and they were extremely supportive--big relief. I am sure they will work with us on travel dates but we haven't gotten that far yet.

I don't think I have ever been as stressed as I was that week of waiting on the doctor and deciding. Even my body was revolting, and I don't just mean how I looked. Aaron has been having trouble sleeping, and although part of the load is lifted with court done, this is still an anxious time. We trust--somehow inside us we know--God will bring us to the other side. But that doesn't make it easy. It's a rough road ahead, but the only way out is through.

All the time, God is good.

“You can’t conceive, nor can I, the appalling strangeness of the mercy of God.”

—Graham Greene