Being a Witness

I visited with a gentleman at Madonna Rehab Hospital today while Dean was in pool therapy. His name is John and several in our church know him. If any of you have been to this hospital, you will notice the walls of the hallways are decorated with pictures and success stories of people with brain injuries of various kinds who have graduated to a normal life "on the outside".

John is another success story who may not grace their walls, but he definitely graces their hallways. He was struck with Guillain-Barre syndrome a few years ago and although his physical recovery has been somewhat stunted and rocky, his spiritual recovery is nothing but miraculous. He permanently resides at Madonna now and is unable to move anything from the neck down, even though his nerves allow him to feel things. He has some movement in his neck and shoulders, I believe, but it is very minimal.

It is such an inspiration to talk with John and hear him share his faith, which he unabashedly does with everyone he meets. As soon as someone asks how he copes with his limitations, he speaks of faith in the Lord as the only thing that has sustained him through it all.

John and I discussed witnessing as essential for our spiritual growth. We talked about the difference of "doing witnessing" and of being a witness. When your activities of daily living are so restricted, he can rejoice in simply being a witness by his life of quiet trust and faith in his heavenly Father. This is the kind of witnessing that we all should desire.

Lord, help me witness, but more important, help me be a witness.

And what a witness you are, John!

Dean's Poolside Humor

A few posts ago I mentioned that Dean's "safe environment" is his recliner, but it's not his "healthiest environment", as we learned at his last doctor visit. So he wrote him a prescription for some aquatic therapy. We started it today at Madonna Rehabilitation Hospital.

Before he got in the water, the therapist who will work with him gave him quite an interview to help assess his skills and establish his goals. As far as goals, Dean could only come up with one and that was to be able to hand-glide someday. She laughed and said that was beyond what they do there, but good try. After some prodding, he finally settled for being able to walk farther without pain.

At the end of the interview, she asked him if he had any questions. He did--"Are you married?" She chuckled again and told him she didn't mean that kind of question.

When they finally got in the water, I tried to read my book by the poolside, but couldn't keep from watching to see how they would do in the water. Dean had a very creative way of counting how many repetitions he was doing. "That's 5, 8, 10." I don't know if he was trying to make her lose count or what, but it didn't work. Evidently, this gal's worked with the brain-injured before. She was counting in her head, and there were no shortcuts available with her counting.

As with God, we can't get Him off track with the countdown to end-time events. God knows the number and our trying to figure out how much time is left must seem pretty silly to our omniscient God. Likewise our goals and questions must seem pretty off base to Him too. Letting Him guide us in all things, now and in the future, just makes good sense.

I can't wait for our next entertaining therapy session.