Monday Morning Update and Amazement #MountainsForMaggie #PrayForMaggie

So far, we have had a pretty quiet night.  The Minion is sleeping so soundly beside me and it's wonderful.  I'd sometimes sneak into her room at night when I was going to bed and see her sleeping peacefully.  This isn't quite that, but it's close enough.

Some prayer requests for the morning:

1.  Swelling to go down in the left leg.

2.  We have a big MRI and CT scan today.  I'm not really sure how to pray for the outcome, because if they find something or don't - both have their challenges.  She will be sedated for quite some time, which is scary in so many ways.  You can certainly pray for safety and clarity.

3.  Ongoing healing and restoration of her left side and vision.

4.  I'm a little tired of the 2 steps forward and 1.5 steps back rhythm.  If that's griping, then I'll own it. But I'd sure like to take a couple of steps forward and live in that zip code for a while.


Here's the amazement part.  As I stated in an earlier post, my father-in-law the Judge gave us some space at the Marriott across the street from TCH.  It's been a place of respite and a soft bed (without disrupting other people's lives, which we did for a few days to friends-who-are-family and who continually offer).

I checked in the other day and the gal behind the counter was professional:  "Can I help you with something, sir?"

"Ma'am, the problems I'm having right now - I don't think you can help me with those.  But I do have a reservation."

Name, credit card info, etc. were exchanged.

Right before she handed me the keys, she asked very kindly and sweetly if I was sure she couldn't help with anything else.  I, in a moment of social weakness, told her that my daughter was in the hospital and unless she had a miracle tucked under her black blazer, she had rendered to me exactly what I needed - some room keys.

I leave, come back to the hospital, and then go back to the Marriott that evening.  Sitting in our room is this along with a stuffed animal (you can click on it if you can't read it):

The kindness of strangers is an amazing gift.

I walked downstairs on the hunt for her and her manager.  When I saw her, I walked up and hugged her and told her how grateful I was and how I hoped she hugged strangers.  Her GM isn't in until today, so I have a conversation coming with him next.  

Color me grateful.

Sustenance

The hospital room isn't always the easiest place to find faith.  Desperation?  Yes.  Faith?  A solid maybe-possibly-potentially.

There's been a moment or two, though, where the Bible has come alive and fueled the prayers I'm praying and others have prayed.  So, I hope this encourages people.  I promise I'm not preaching and there's another post coming this morning as an update, but typing it out helps me to process it too.

Bless our God, O peoples; let the sound of his praise be heard, who has kept our soul among the living and has not let our feet slip. For you, O God, have tested us; you have tried us as silver is tried. You brought us into the net; you laid a crushing burden on our backs; you let men ride over our heads; we went through fire and through water; yet you have brought us out to a place of abundance. (Psalm 66:8-12 ESV)

** I'm ready to get to that "brought us out" bit. Though I promise you, we are currently living in "a place of abundance" when I think about what all God has done and how our family, friends, and friends who are family have been there. Hopefully a few people hear Maggie's story and join the chorus to "Bless our God, O peoples." I can get there in this moment of calm. Not sure I could get there in some of the other moments.


Father of the fatherless and protector of widows is God in his holy habitation. God settles the solitary in a home... (Psalm 68:5-6 ESV)

** He has done this for Maggie. Enough said.


Blessed be the Lord, who daily bears us up; God is our salvation. Selah Our God is a God of salvation, and to GOD, the Lord, belong deliverances from death. (Psalm 68:19-20 ESV)

** He has done this for us. Daily bearing for daily burdens. And deliverance and from death. Amen.

Peter describes Jesus as one who, when suffering, "continued entrusting Himself to Him who judges justly" (2.23). Our suffering is not abnormal, some sort of punishment, or a reflection of a shift in the disposition of God toward us. So we can follow Jesus in this too: entrusting ourselves to Him who judges justly.

Giving out? Yes Giving up? No

With 24-hour bedside vigils the norm these days, time is both precious and powerful.  Precious because it puts us bedside and helps us know how to best help her and advocate for her in these days. Powerful because it reminds us how precious moments really are, helping us squeeze every ounce out of every moment.  Life tends to dull us.  Catastrophe and tragedy wake us up.

Time away from the bedside is also precious and powerful.  Precious because there's so little of it.  Powerful because even a moment or two of walking or brief conversation about non-hospital-life over cake from the wedding reception you didn't go to can be a refresher that gives you enough umph to get through whatever is next.

My father-in-law, who we'll just call Judge Davy Crockett, has wanted to be here and help but not be in the way.  He finally found a way to do both, as he was kind enough to buy a few nights at the Marriott across the street from the hospital.  In addition to the staff at the Marriott doing something ridiculously thoughtful (more on that in another post), it also is a place of respite and rest.  Others had offered to help with hotels (thank you - you know who you are) but the Judge insisted.

I went over about 6:30 last night and crashed.  I was awakened at 12:45am by the Queen.  She had apparently been trying to get a hold of me because the Minion was awake and even smiled some.  I hadn't heard a phone, text message, or anything else.  She had to come physically shake me to wake me up.  Even the timer I set to wake me up I had miscalculated on in the mental fog.  Couple that with a moment yesterday when our friend was asking a question and I completely zoned out, then had to confess:  "Can you ask me that question again?  I'm pretty sure I went to the Twilight Zone there for a minute."  I suppose my body was giving out.

I felt awful that I had overslept and even more awful that I had missed Maggie's most wakeful moments to date.  The body apparently really does have a limit.  As things settle down, we will get more sleep, I know.  And we are abundantly grateful for all the folks who have offered to sit with her.  I don't doubt there will be a day when we take some of you up on that.

Prayer requests to start the morning:

1.  The nurse just mentioned potentially getting to a "real" room instead of a PICU room.  Maggie apparently is doing so well that there's at least talk of that.  It's news to me, but also seems to be incredibly encouraging that she's doing that well.

2.  Ongoing recovery with her left side.

3.  No further injury.

4.  One more day until we get the full compliment of doctors back.  In particular, I think we're really interested to hear from Infectious Disease (confirming there's no infection hiding somewhere) and Hematology (with news on what their battery of blood tests have found about her clotting factors).

5.  Ongoing and recoverable physical strength for the Queen and me.

Thanks to all.  We are sustained by His power and your prayers.  We do not give up.  I'm ready to see this face again.

Small victories and answered prayers

It's been a fairly uneventful night.  Thank you, Father, for that.

Brief Update:

Maggie is eating applesauce and things like it.  That sure makes her tummy feel better.  Though she is getting calories through her IV, it is not the same as when your tummy is full.  She also has, it seems to me, more mobility in her left leg.  I did not personally see the movement that the Queen videoed and posted to Facebook.  So I'm comparing what I saw before I left for a few winks of sleep with what I saw tonight during feeding.  Thank you, Father, for that.

We're also moving to a private room in CVICU.  There's talk of us transferring down to PICU because of her neuro stuff.  We'll wait and see.

Our little nurse-of-the-night Chelsea has been terrific.  I came around the corner from a quick restroom break to Chelsea holding the Minion's head, stroking her cheek, and doing things that her mom would do.  It was a physical demonstration of what so many of you are doing:  cradling her, holding her as if she were your own.  Thank you.

A couple of prayer requests to start out the morning:

1.  No more injury.  No permanent damage.

2.  Clear diagnosis.

3.  Continued left side recovery.

4.  Open eyes.  The fluid they're working to draw out of her is the stuff, we think, that's keeping her eyes closed from swelling, heaviness, and general discomfort.  I want to see her eyes again, and for those eyes to work.

May their tribe increase #MountainsForMaggie #PrayForMaggie

It's the afternoon of the 4th of July.  Previous plans put us on a lake with relatives watching fireworks.  CVICU isn't the lake.

First and foremost, current prayer requests:

1.  Decreased swelling in her precious little noggin.  Today is the day we're supposed to turn the corner on that.  I'm ready to turn that corner.

2.  Wakefulness that's not upset.  I don't need an hour.  But even a few minutes of quiet or small babble would be awesome.  If she's awake, she's lit up.  It's hard on her (on multiple levels) to have all that activity to the point of wearing out.

3.  A clear diagnosis.  We are still lacking one, though we've been seen by everybody but the guy who was running the cash register at the gift shop where I bought the Queen and I some drinks.

4.  No more injuries.  And no permanent damage.

The Queen sums it up this way:  God, please bring her back.  Amen to that.  The picture I posted recently of she and I walking while we saw grandparents in Texarkana - that's the image I associate with "bring her back."  I want that again.  And that's the spiritual, involuntary vomit that comes up out of my soul when I pray.

I've seen the church and the Church be awesome.

Last night, at some ungodly hour, God was still awake and so were three brothers.  It sounds like a bar joke, but a white guy with floppy hair, a large African-American brother, and a shorter guy from the Indian subcontinent walked into a hospital room.  Their intention, denied by a medical procedure, was to pray over the Minion.  One of the guys (all were employees of TCH) had been a client of the Queen's photography ministry, and they had heard via social media, and came to pray.  The lead guy said, "We can treat in this hospital, but we can't heal.  Only Jesus does that."  So off they went, on their lunch break, to hospital chapel to pray for our little girl.  May their tribe increase.

Some of our local church folks called a prayer meeting at 2pm today.  Pics started rolling in of dozens of people gathered to pray for our little girl.  Are you kidding me?  Who does that but family?  May their tribe increase.

Our students at Youth Camp this week have a delayed bus.  I got a pic of them stopping to pray at 2pm.  Delayed buses can lead to griping.  In our students, it led to prayer.  May their tribe increase.

One of the Queen's coworkers came by last night when everything was hitting the fan.  She stayed calm, rubbed the Queen's shoulders, and was so stinking encouraging it was fuel.  May her tribe increase.

So many of you have posted on FB and Twitter about her, sharing statuses and pics and so forth.  Thanks for spreading the word so heaven is barraged.  May your tribe increase.

To our friends who created the cool little Jesus Loves Maggie graphic, thank you.  May your tribe increase.

To my northern friends who are praying from DisneyLand, thank you.  To our other friends who aren't there but are praying still.  May your tribe increase.

To my friend who showed up with liquid goodness from Sonic, thank you.  May your tribe increase.

To my Metroplex friend who offered to tell inappropriate and irreverent jokes to take my mind off things, thank you.  I'm not so sure if the world could handle an increase in your tribe.  But I wish it would increase anyway.

Our dearest mentees-turned-friends came up when it was all breaking loose too.  They just stood and prayed and didn't mind that all they got was a fist bump and a goodbye.  May their tribe increase.

And my former-workout-partner (former only because vacations and emergencies seem to be interrupting us staving off midlife), not only volunteered but actually did come and sit from 10p-3a so I could sleep a little.  I told the nurse he was my brother - different moms but the same dad.  That's true in some ways, maybe the most important ways.  For breakfast this morning, I ate his wife's chicken and dumplings she had put in the fridge of the family area last night - they were here when everything hit the fan too.  May their tribe increase.

And to the many more who stopped at 2pm to pray, thank you.  You are Aaron and Hur.  May your tribe increase.

For Aslan and for Narnia #MountainsForMaggie

Hospital rooms at 3:49 AM are basically inhospitable places.  I find that ironic in light of the shared etymology of those words.  I've been trying to gather my thoughts to put them in form of some sort.  The Queen is doing a fabulous job on the medical front and has basically provided an update in the afternoons on her blog (4 U Ruthie).

Some points - both low and high, all for prayer (please):

1.  Her fever has been better today but seems to still linger.  What is causing it depends on who you ask.  I'm tired of the asking and would love to get on to the answering but that takes time because cultures have to grow, etc.  You can pray for a clear diagnosis of what's happening.

2.  When PT came by yesterday, it seemed she had sensory abilities in her left side.  Her response to stimuli was more than reflex.  You can pray that sensory responsiveness becomes muscular control.

3.  Her right field of vision seems not to be online.  And I think she struggles to move her eyes to the right.  This opens up a completely different can of worms - why the right side?  That is possibly related to her previous brain bleed.  Possibly.  You can pray that her vision returns, in full, with no lingering problems.

4.  She's resting peacefully at the moment.  They might need to call security if someone else comes in and says how beautiful she is and then proceeds to mess with her.  Or drops a sample of blood so that they just have to get "a little bit more."  You can pray for ongoing rest, the kind that restores.

A good number of friends have been so kind to ask also as to how the Queen and I are doing.  Thank you.

We have a junk drawer in our house that is scary and dangerous and I don't open it unless I absolutely have to in order to find something that is crucial to the moment.  I won't speak for the Queen, but that's the state of my soul right now, with my emotional life being both scary and dangerous and best-served, at least for the moment, with only-open-upon-necessity sticker on the outside.

To all of you I say what I said to our Student Pastor at church and then to another dear friend:

There's this scene at the end of The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. Peter turns and looks at the army of the White Witch. Then he turns and looks at the centaur beside him. Peter asks, "Are you with me?" "To the death," the centaur replies. 

Then Peter bellows, "For Aslan and for Narnia!" and charges the field of battle into what looks like certain and sound defeat.  They are outmatched in number and weaponry and viciousness.  

But the only reason Peter had the courage to charge is because there was some idiot (editor's note, that's a 4am term with no filter - should've said crazy person) beside him who was willing to do the same. We are Peter.  The situation is the outmatched battlefield.  You and those like you are the centaur.  At 4AM, there is precious little courage or hope. But there are people beside us. 

So...

For Aslan and for Narnia.

#MountainsForMaggie

The past 24 hours has been pretty brutal.  I described it to my friend Dave like this:  we're the corks, the circumstances have been the hurricane.

Just a quick bit of backstory:

Over the weekend, the Minion ran a fever and in her cute 2-year old way complained of left arm pain.  She was checked out by the docs at Texas Children's Hospital on Sunday morning and sent home:  it's viral.  Monday morning, after being home with me a couple of hours, she didn't want to walk on her left leg.  A call to the cardiology team, and she was admitted for observation and fluids.

At 4am Tuesday morning, she woke up hungry and I went to feed her and she had a significant involuntary tremor in her left arm.  The nurse was with me and saw it.  She called the cardiology resident who saw it.  She called the cardiology fellow who saw it.  But it went away.

Questions abounded:  blood chemistry because of the high amount of fluids being IV'd into her?  Something else?

The Queen and I did the kid switch at about 9:30 Tuesday morning.  The Big Three, who don't catch cramps during big games and of whom I couldn't be prouder for hanging in there, got to see the Minion and then we headed home.  15 minutes into our 35 minute drive home, the dearest friend of the Queen called me to say Minion had a stroke and was left-side flaccid.

Cue the freaking hurricane.

Bottom line of the 4:02 AM moment:  we've ruled out some pretty bad stuff but have some big questions still on the table.

God has moved mountains once for her.  Indeed, we need another geological relocation project.

1.  For no further brain bleeds - she has apparently had two, separated by a period of weeks.

2.  For recovery on her left side.

3.  For questions to become answers.

4.  For The Big Three to have a great weekend with their extremely awesome aunt and uncle.

5.  For the Queen (typical vocabulary cannot describe her awesomeness) and me to remain afloat.  I believe it is your prayers that have made us corks in the hurricane instead of victims thereof.

Trent @ 4:07 AM, Wednesday
#MountainsForMaggie

Sick people everywhere...

I have sick people everywhere.  Okay, maybe not quite everywhere, but pretty close.

The Minion (the child formerly known as the Ewok - we decided her native language was more Minion than Ewok) started us off with fever and vomiting and so forth.  After a trip to the ER to evaluate the impact on her heart, all is good.  Just a virus.

But the Ninja came up to me after church yesterday with the sad eyes and sickly voice.  "Daddy, I don't feel good."  Sure enough, he was running fever.  Not puking.

In the past 24 hours, I have been puked on and peed on.  I have changed clothes.  I have been incredibly grateful for the Queen.  We have been inestimably helped by friends.  Just a normal weekend in the Henderson household.

So as my kids lay around like old dogs, grumbling or whining when they have to move, I pray for them.  And some still, small voice seems to bubble up from the carnival that is our life.

"Hey.  When my kids hurt, I hurt too.  And I long for their wholeness."

Sometimes we participate to a large degree.  Sometimes we just show up to the party.  God brings deliverance and healing and wholeness.  That's His agenda.  That's His Father-Heart.  For a condition far worse than a virus and for people far more loved than I even love my own.

But that's just me thinking thoughts...

My hopes for the SBC gathering this week

The denomination to which I belong, the Southern Baptist Convention, is gathering in its annual meeting this week in Baltimore, MD.  I'm not there for multiple reasons, but I do have some hopes for that gathering.

I'm just a pastor of a medium-ish-sized church in Texas.  So, you can take these or leave them.  But here we go...

1.  I hope they don't embarrass themselves.  No resolutions or commitments that give the media fodder.  I'm not talking about being biblically unfaithful.  Far from it.  But I am talking about not passing a resolution that is inflammatory without need or without consequence.  Sometimes I think they pass stuff because someone brings it to the floor and no one wants to vote against it.  But that's just it:  someone please say out loud, "Hey, I think we're all on the same page here.  And this resolution has no teeth, no consequence or binding authority on any church / entity / individual that breaks it.  Therefore, let's shut up and sit down and not spend time on inconsequential things like this."

2.  I hope they questions that need to get asked actually get asked and then get answered.  There are some big ones, I think, that are lingering in Southern Baptist life.  They need answers, even if it's, "Man, we really screwed up there and don't see a good out, so we're going to stay the course for the next 12 months until we figure it out."  Humility seems to buy a lot of goodwill and patience.

3.  I hope they don't do anything that further restricts the autonomy of the local church.  Previously, entities have acted in such a way that the action was seemingly outside an entity's purview and without Convention approval.  As a for instance, the IMB restricted the circle of applicants by denying certain spiritual gifts (and the individuals who were given them by God) and tightening the definition of Christian baptism.  But in Baptist life, it should be the churches telling the IMB who they are sending, not the IMB telling the churches who they can send.  The top-down stuff has to stop.  More examples are readily available.

4.  I hope the people who invited James MacDonald to the SBC Pastor's Conference check their heads and their hearts.  He, along with some other prominent evangelical pastors, seem to be a little big for their britches these days.  Controversy about character issues should at least deserve a second look before an invitation is extended.

5.  I hope some genuine pastors have some time for genuine encouragement and genuine refreshment.  I hope there are some genuine moments of prayer.  And I hope God genuinely continues to use this group to advance His Kingdom, however falteringly, for the glory of Jesus.

The difficult simplicity of remembering

This past week was the normal kind of insanity around our household (thus, the lack of blogging).  I really do think my wife and I need to keep better story logs.  There might be a "no way could this happen to one family" book in them.

Tuesday night, I watered the dog as usual.  Moving the bowl from the sink to the tray outside is all of about 25 feet and somewhere along the way I spilled about an ounce.  On the tile.  In the middle of the walkway...or in our house, the runway.

You know where this is going, right?

Peanut runs.  Peanut slips.  Peanut falls.  Peanut cries.

After several minutes of crying and a pretty significant goose egg, Peanut asks the Queen, "What day is today?"

Huh?

And it got worse from there.  I had promised her a dollar because she had helped me clean up something.  She didn't remember it.

"What did you have for dinner?"  "Uhm...was it breakfast for dinner?" (no, sloppy joes)

"How did you get home today?"  "Uhm...riding my scooter?"  (no, mom picked you up)

Hello E.R. visit.  Hello doctor bills.  Hello concussion.

We kept cheering for her to remember.  She didn't.  Her memory did return about an hour or so later.  But we were E.R.-bound long before then.  Scary stuff.

She was concentrating, but she couldn't call things to mind.

One of the most potent condemnations of God's people in the Old Testament was that they didn't remember.  They didn't remember what God had done at the Red Sea.  They didn't remember the manna from heaven.  They didn't remember the laws on the tablets.  They didn't remember His promises to them about a land.  And on and on I could go.

Before I go casting stones (or before you grab yours), let's *ahem* remember that we are good forgetters too.  Forgetting that it wasn't the blood of bulls and rams that saved us, but treating it lightly by loving sin so easily.  Forgetting that His mercy is a daily renewable quantity but our ingratitude even toward something simple like air is our living testimony that we don't believe in mercy.  And I could go on and on.

Maybe take a second.  Maybe see if His goodness and faithfulness and mercy toward you haven't been present.

Maybe see His love.  I think that's one of the reasons the cross is so graphic.  If I forget His love, all I have to do is look at that horror captured in a historic moment.

Maybe I can remember better.  Maybe you can too.  Maybe that will prompt us both to meaningful praise.

But that's just me thinking thoughts...