Monday, February 1, 2010

Update 2/1/10 Day 85

Dear friends,

You know those headaches that make you feel like you're going to throw up? I'm on the couch with one of those tonite. I think the blog will be short, but I had to spend a little time here, and if you read the comments you know why.

Back on November 8 (that date will always give me a bit of a shiver), at about 5:17pm, Stephen and Hannah were hit head on by a drunk driver. You already know that. And if you've been following this blog from the beginning, you know that the first responders are my true heroes: the police (my dear officer Ernie and officer Mike among them), firefighters, paramedics, emt's, helicopter pilot, etc... Well, the story had a wrinkle. One of the first people on the scene, a dear fireman who pulled Miss Rejoice out of the car and came to see her in the hospital, told me the tale of an "army medic who happened to be passing by." I was told how he was incredibly strong and capable, and that he was integral in getting Stephen and Hannah out of there alive. He basically "hauled butt and took names". He was among those great men and women who turned darkness into light. Well, the mystery of it all was this: he came, he worked, he left. And nobody knew who the heck he was. I was convinced he was an angel. And now we see from the comments that he is a human being, and somehow he found us. Regardless of his status as flesh and blood, there is no doubt he was sent by God. There's no "happened to be" in the life of the children of God. Every encounter has meaning. And in this case, dear Daniel Lane was put on Luther Road for "such a time as this". I sent the man a long email. I was even bold enough to ask for his picture. If I can get through to Mr. "Right place at the right time", I'll introduce you to him. Holy cow, the drama of it all!

The light today had some kind of shimmery quality that winter light can get on a sunny afternoon. It filled me with that longing feeling I sometimes get, a reaching for a place I've never been but I know will be home to me. The pilgrim road can get a traveller weary at times, can't it? And then hope pops up, and says "your race is not in vain". I love my life, even in its current state of upheaval. I watch my husband dog it out with that wheelchair, when everything within him wants to get up and walk, and I am humbled. I see my daughter striving for excellence in school, despite missing 2 months of work and dealing with the fallout of a right frontal lobe brain bleed. I consider my sons, who haven't had the easiest or most normal life in the past 3 months, and I am struck by the depth of our affection for one another. I see purpose even in the dull and difficult. But there's nothing like the place where reality really begins, when all this will seem kind of whispy, and heaven will be the real, solid place. Love is the currency there. But there's a road to finish here. Maybe on our way we can clear away a few rocks and debris for somebody else. Good gravy, I hope so.

Tomorrow is a therapy day. So we'll get an early start and climb another rung on the ladder of recovery. In all of this stretching, both physical and spiritual, one thing is sure: the Great One goes before us. From everlasting to everlasting, He is God. There are no "just happened to's" with Him. No matter what a fallen world throws at us, He has a way for us to go. In the end, there will be sweet victory. In the meantime, we climb and get strong.

Say a prayer for Daniel Lane. He may be heading for active duty at some point. God bless our "right place at the right time" friend.

I absolutely love you guys. You make the trip a real go.

Your friend on the pilgrim road,

Loriann

3 comments:

Unknown said...

I am very happy that i have found your family and to see that the recovery is going so well and look forward to meeting you. And i was only doing the right thing that i would only hope someone else would do for me.

Your Friend,
Dan Lane

Anonymous said...

THANK YOU, Dan Lane.

Unknown said...

I really appreciate your perspective on all this. We still pray for you, and your words are uplifting to us as well. Thanks so much... -Ault family.