We’re covered.

Love comes down.

When Nelson was hospitalized, Ann Sophie sat nearby and sketched what she was thinking and seeing. Here’s the result.

There’s Nelson, tucked into his bed (with the plastic mattress) in a sitting position, as always. And there she is, close by with baby Will on her lap. The most fascinating part of the sketch, though, is that God is there too. His hand is covering all three of them, as well as the IV pole and the nurses’ computer, two important items. And his hand is delivering multiple gifts of love.

I think the key word might be “covering.”

I (Nelson’s mom) am back in southwest Michigan right now, since 15 of my 16 grandchildren have come to town. Meanwhile, in Minnesota, Ann Sophie’s mom is providing a third pair of hands.

But no matter where we are or what the schedule dictates on any given day, we all know we have God’s covering of love. And thanks to you, Reader, we also have your covering of prayer.

In the last two days, the Mayo doctors have been trying to figure out a wise approach for the next phase of Nelson’s care. Though they’re excited about finding the mutation that will allow immunotherapy, they can’t go blindly into that next treatment without letting his current treatment (i.e. chemotherapy) work its way out of his system.

If they move too soon, the treatment Nelson might overwhelm him. The old expression “hold your horses” seems to apply. We want immunotherapy treatment asap, but their wisdom says, “Hold on a minute.”

Complicating everything is the blood thinner Nelson’s taking to work steadily on the large blood clot beneath his collar bone. It usually takes months to dissolve a clot like that, so he won’t be off blood thinners any time soon. In the mean time, when Nelson asks, ”What can I do to help?”, he gets this answer:

“Just don’t go anywhere, don’t get sick, don’t cut yourself, and watch for anything abnormal. The second anything happens, go right to the ER.”

Though this sounds threatening, Nelson is taking it in stride, because as he often says, “It’s always too soon to panic.” He’s simply living out his own advice. And he fully believes God is, indeed, covering him, pouring love into his life steadily as Ann Sophie’s sketch shows, no matter what’s happening around him.

A college friend of mine, Pam, has been sending us pictures, laminated cards, a beautiful necklace, an umbrella coloring book, and many other umbrella-related items in an effort to say the same thing: we are covered—both by God’s love and by the prayers of many. We are thankful!

“He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will abide in the shadow of the Almighty.” (Psalm 91:1)

God is here.

Throughout the Bible, God tells us he’ll never abandon us. He assures us of his love and says he’s as close as our right hand. But sometimes, when going through life‘s hardest challenges, we wonder where he is.

Here in Rochester, as we do our best to take one day at a time, we often pray this:

“Father, please let us see you today. Give us a strong sense of your presence.” Those are good prayers, since sometimes God seems to have gone away.

Or has he?

Yesterday when Nelson was discouraged about not being able to leave the hospital, he and Ann Sophie prayed, asking God to deliver some specific encouragement. “Show us your unfailing love, Lord.“

It didn’t take him very long to show himself. As Ann Sophie was leaving Nelson’s hospital room, one of the nurses said, “I’m praying for you. We need the Lord to make your path straight.”

That’s a direct quote from Proverbs 3:6, and suddenly, there was God, speaking his own words over Ann Sophie.

In the hospital elevator, a young man saw baby Will and said, “Is it your baby that’s sick ?”

Ann Sophie said, “No.”

“That’s good,“ he said. “It’s not my baby, either. It’s me.“

“Is it cancer?“

“Yes, but I hope to get some time.“

Before he walked away he said, “Don’t ever give up. Just keep trusting the Lord.“ And there was God, with another important truth from his word.

A few minutes later, as Ann Sophie was leaving the hospital after dark, she’d forgotten where she’d parked the car and was walking around several blocks. A man looking like he might want to cause trouble approached her. Her inner defenses went up, especially since she had the baby with her.

When the man passed her by, he stopped, turned around, and said, “May God bless you and your little baby. And remember, Jesus loves you.“

Ann Sophie thanked him and saw God again. None of us believe these encounters are anything other than God himself moving in close with love, courage and a special message: “I’m here.”

Also, today he showed his loving kindness big-time by giving Nelson the desire of his heart—to come home!

Of course things aren’t perfect. His legs, feet and left arm are still badly swollen, and chemo-nausea kicked in tonight with some vomiting. Then the catheter into his right lung refused to drain. So it’s back to the clinic tomorrow for further tests and a troubleshooting ultrasound.

 

But tonight, none of that matters, because our Nelson is home.

Jesus told his disciples, “Because you have seen me, you believe….” (John 20:29)

Life in the ICU

Intensive Care Units are places of action and, as the name indicates, intensity. The centerpiece in each room is a very sick patient who is laced with wires, tubes and lines. This needy person is tended to by multiple medical personnel, each doing a different job. 

The rule says only two visitors per day, and those must be on a pre-registered list with „gatekeepers“ at the main hospital entrance. This list maxes out at five people. Nelson has six siblings, a wife, and a mom who all wanted to see him, but rules are rules.

Thankfully, Mayo Clinic was willing to flex on its rules for Nelson’s family. Many of us got to sit next to our patient today, two-by-two, for just a few minutes. Others will do so tomorrow. What we observed made us all appreciate that Nelson is there.

Nurse Kate bustled about the room efficiently without stopping once, even while answering our questions. Behind Nelson’s bed was his IV pole (laden with six different bags of liquid) and multiple TV screens flickering with a rainbow array of numbers. Kate was watching Nelson’s stats on multiple monitors, checking every beep, buzz and bell. 

As we chatted with Nelson, the doctor came in and gave us a chance to ask questions. He commented on how well Nelson looked compared to when he came in the day before. He said, „When you first came in, well, let’s just say….whew!“ He said it as he pretended to wipe sweat off his brow. We understood.

Then Nelson said, „How many more days before I can leave the ICU and go to a regular hospital room?“

The doctor said, „You’re still here for two reasons: 1) That IV going into your neck goes straight to your heart and 2) The humidified, warm, high-dose oxygen you’re getting is keeping your O2 level from falling again. In a regular hospital room they can’t do those two things for you.“ Nelson nodded and accepted his fate. But he leaned over and said, „Can you believe I’ve been sitting in this same spot for two straight days?“

By the end of this day, we’d heard four pieces of happy information: 1) The fluid they’d withdrawn from around Nelson’s heart had no trace of cancer in it. 2) Nelson’s oxygen levels have been so consistently good that they removed the bulky, uncomfortable cannula and are now trying a much smaller one, the kind regular hospital rooms use. 3) Tomorrow they’ll no longer need to put medications through the line going into his heart, a step closer to removing it. 4) Tomorrow he’ll get to stand up for a few minutes, thus getting out of the bed as he’s so wanted to do. 5) And best of all, the doctor said, at 11:00 PM tonight, that it’s possible Nelson will leave the ICU for a regular hospital room tomorrow!

We give all the credit to God.

„People were overwhelmed with amazement. ‚He has done everything well,‘ they said.”(Mark 7:37)