In a day, our world changed forever.

It was nineteen years ago this month that our son Kevin broke his neck in a fall and sustained a devastating spinal cord injury. It’s one of those anniversaries that are bittersweet. So much is so good in our lives. And yet, the loss is there every day.

I nearly forgot the day this year – a testament, I guess, to the fact that we’ve moved on in many ways. Kevin is still mostly disabled, and yet he still continues to make new gains when we least expect it. We’re still mostly caregivers. And yet, I love and appreciate life more than ever.

It’s strange and wonderful how we need both darkness and light to grow.

The end of last year began a new season for us as a family. A series of events have unfolded in a phenomenon that has, in rapid succession, answered several of my most desperate and long-standing prayers for my children and grandchildren. You know, those “the stone will have to roll away from the tomb” prayers, breathed so often I feared that I might irritate God with their frequency. They were the prayers carried in the night with a heavy heart and many tears before heaven. The ones that spring automatically to mind. You know.

Those prayers.

I prayed them for years without answers.

Then, without warning, a door opened. Then another, and another.

In August of last year, our youngest daughter Grace began a good job locally. Prayer answered.

In November of last year, we received the news that our son Erik and daughter-in-law Rachel were expecting for the first time after being told that would probably never happen. We welcomed our first grandson into the world in May of this year. Prayer answered.

In May of this year, our youngest son Daniel announced his engagement to a wonderful woman named Jenna. Prayer answered.

In June of this year, our eldest granddaughter Rebekah graduated from homeschool and was immediately accepted into the university of her choice. Her parents, our eldest daughter Jennifer and husband Scott, had sacrificed for many years and throughout many trials to educate their daughters. Rebekah is the second-generation to graduate from homeschool in our family. Prayer answered.

Their youngest daughter, Vanessa, will begin her first year of college level work as she finishes her last years in homeschool. Prayer answered.

This August, our son-in-law finally begins to see his long-standing dream of teaching become a reality. Prayer answered.

This summer, Kevin has been able, for the first time, to sit unassisted for nearly an hour at the side of his bed. This, from a man who was never supposed to move again. Ever. This, from a man who was thought – by some in the medical profession – to be better off dead. This, after nearly two decades of disability. Prayer answered.

Aaron and I continue to have the health we need to be caregivers and walk Kevin’s journey with him. Nineteen years ago, we were told it would be impossible for us to care for him at home. We live the impossible every day with him.

Prayer answered.

Living in Graceland.

A friend once told me that her daughter, who liked to come to our place and see Grace, used to call our place “Graceland.” We chuckle at the ironic designation. It seems fitting, though, because we are the house that grace built. This anniversary of Kevin’s accident is our reminder that God is always at work. Prayer is crucial, and He is never irritated that we bring our heartaches and hopes to Him.

If you’re facing impossible odds today, if darkness is all around you, lift up your head. God still answers prayer. He loves you, and He is at work in your life.

You are the house that grace built.

By PamThorson0 comments

Caregiving Every Life Matters Song in the Night

February 10, 2016

The Gift of Existence

It would have been so much easier to die.

Kevin Thorson lay paralyzed in the grass of a church lawn in Canada. Moments earlier, he was practicing backflips with a friend when he missed a rotation, fell on his head, and broke his neck nearly at his skull. As a friend ran for help, he lay there alone, not breathing, fading into blackness as he fell unconscious.

He told us later that it was at that moment, when he felt himself near death, that the presence of God came to him. The sense of the next world was intensely powerful, forever making this side of the veil seem the impostor. It would have been quick, even merciful, to have slipped quietly away to join God.

But God wasn’t there to take him to heaven.

Instead, He had a message for Kevin. A voice so real Kevin thought it was audible told him, “You’re going to be okay.”

He awakened not okay. He was in a desperate fight for his life. Emergency personnel worked feverishly to keep him alive until he could be put on life support. He endured a helicopter ride to a larger hospital in Calgary, a doctor’s push for euthanasia, surgeries, pneumonia, bronchoscopy, paralysis, loss of privacy, and much pain in the first weeks before he returned home.

Later he endured serious infections that landed him in intensive care. He had more surgeries for kidney stones. He spent two years on the ventilator before weaning off it on days, something that had been declared an impossibility by his doctors. He regained more than they expected, but not enough for a normal life.

The loss was profound. It came in layers as the reality of the depth of his disability struck home. Some days he grieved over the dreams he would never see realized. Other days he longed for just the feel of grass beneath his feet again.

But as victories came, like breathing on his own and taking his first steps and running a computer, there was a stirring in his soul. He began to truly appreciate being alive. Watching him struggle to live out his faith despite profound brokenness, I began to see how completely God had brought to pass what He promised Kevin: He would be okay.

Today I understand this: Existence, in all its facets, is a gift.

It is the man who has been told he would never breathe on his own who appreciates the feeling of air in his lungs.

It is the man who has endured great pain who appreciates a day when his body is at peace.

It is the man who once lost all feeling who takes joy in the warmth of the sun on his arms, the softness of a kitten’s fur beneath his fingers, and his legs under him again as he takes his first shaky steps.

It is the man who has had everything taken away who treasures anything given back.

It is in loss that we understand the gift.

To exist is to be. We are made in mirror image of our Creator, who calls Himself the great “I AM.” We were made to experience. We were made to feel, to love, to laugh, to hurt.

Those who say, “I would never want to live like that” must give room to those who do want to live, even if it is “like that.” The disabled and the vulnerable and the aged and the pre-born have no duty to die because their existence is inconvenient for others.

Yes, it would have been easier for Kevin to die that awful day in 1997. But what richness of life we would have missed in knowing him. The world is a better place because he exists.

By PamThorson2 comments

Unstoppable

June 19, 2014

Learning the Meaning of Sacrifice: Grace Thorson

Today I’m honored to host a guest post by my youngest daughter, Grace Thorson. Grace was very young when her brother Kevin suffered a spinal cord injury and paralysis. She offers a personal look at how Kevin’s injury impacted her life. Here is a fresh perspective on caregiving from the vantage point of a sibling.

When I was eight, my brother, Kevin, broke his neck doing a back flip in Canada. He was part of a music team, and he absolutely loved doing it. With this new injury, and through a difficult round of events, he found amazing care at a hospital in Spokane, Washington. At the time, I was an overly quiet and serious-minded little girl. Most wouldn’t think it, but I had a defiant nature, and I undoubtedly still do.

With all the surrounding chaos, I didn’t fully grasp my family’s predicament. It didn’t help that I often found myself switching between staying at the hospital and the nearby Ronald McDonald House. I was often detached and protected from the serious and tumultuous circumstances surrounding my brother’s care. It was a dark time for me, and I needed a healthy dose of perspective to brighten up my life.

At the hospital in Spokane, Kevin had physical therapists assist him with strength and mobility training. I often tagged along with my parents and watched the therapists with curiosity. One particular therapist that we nicknamed “Sarge” became the reason that I learned the true meaning of sacrifice.

During one of Kevin’s sessions, Sarge told me (more like ordered) to help in the process of getting him in and out of bed. I remember feeling the fire of rebelliousness rising and wondering, “How can she order me about? She’s not my mother.” Reluctantly, I accepted Sarge’s demand and took on the tedious job of rolling up my brother’s leg wraps. It was a mundane chore, and I didn’t understand the significance of doing it.

But, with time, it kind of grew on me, and I relished the idea that I had a role to play within my family’s dynamics. With surging enthusiasm, I showed eagerness to learn and do more for my brother. If I had rebelled, I may never have learned one of the most valuable lessons I’ve ever been presented with: sacrifice.

With being a part-time caregiver to my brother, and helping my family at home, I know how valuable sacrifice really is. Sacrifice is love.

Grace Thorson has been a caregiver to her brother since 1997. She works as an office assistant to author Pam Thorson. She serves as an editor and contributor to the Christian music website http://www.cmaddict.com. Grace enjoys photography, cats, and good books. You can follow Grace’s reviews, interviews, and photography at http://www.gracethorson.wordpress.com

By PamThorson0 comments

Unstoppable

May 16, 2014

Beauty from Ashes: Part 3

The last two days, we have been learning the story of Barb Farrington and her daughter Katie following Katie’s accident in 1998. Today is the third and final installment of their inspiring story. In this post, Barb also shares some important words for new caregivers and shares a tender, personal story of forgiveness.

A New Season

In a short time, Barb’s and Katie’s lives had radically changed. Barb had given up a job she loved, lost her husband, and lost the daughter she once knew. Now she had to bond with the new person who was her daughter now. It took some time to work through that.

There was more, too, with which she needed to come to terms. “In order for our home to be really healthy and happy, we need to believe in a bigger picture.”

She made the decision to fight for her joy. That decision was the beginning of the journey back from despair. “I found myself again. In caregiving, you live someone else’s life so much. So much went into her, I didn’t know who I was. I was a walking, talking body. As I began to remember that I was a person, too, things began to come full circle.”

What’s important to her today?

“My faith, my family, going to River City Church, my friends. I don’t know what I would do without my friends and my sisters who give phone support. Friends are God’s angels to Katie and me.”

“I can truly say that God is good. There was a while that it was hard to get that out: God is good. I can truly say that I’m content. Katie’s happy. She was mad at God for a while. She didn’t really want to pray or anything. But she’s come full circle, too.”

Barb says she feels they are entering a new season. “I can’t put it into words. It’s a new feeling that I have for Katie. Overwhelming tenderness comes as close as I can to describing it. I’ve been tender with her, but it’s just different. I feel the need to spend more quality time with her, to connect on an even deeper level.”

“I need her. She’s always been important in my life, but I really feel I need that interaction.”

Never Give up Hope.

Barb has some important words for someone just beginning the caregiving journey:

There is always hope. Always hope. Never, ever, give up hope. I strongly believe in Jeremiah 29:11: ‘I know the plans I have for you…’
Make sure that you take time for yourself.
Don’t lose who you are, because it’s really easy to do. The person you’re caring for needs you, and they need you whole and healthy.
Don’t be afraid to share all your thoughts with God. Keep going to God, because He will meet with you. Even if you’re mad at Him, He’ll meet with you. I was more disappointed than mad. It was one disappointment after another. Then it seems like you’re not worthy to expect anything but disappointment.
Be around people who will encourage you.
Find something to laugh about every day. You have to have some humor.

A Life Worth Living: A Story of Forgiveness

One of the hardest things for Barb was to forgive the young man who was driving the night Katie was injured. She hated him with a passion. After the accident, police told Barb he never once asked how Katie was doing.

This young man’s family was well-known in the area, and lies began to circulate about the night of the accident. One lie was that Katie was driving that night.

The state took the young man to court. He was sentenced to eighteen months of boot camp. Barb had refused to see or speak to either him or his parents until that day in court. As far as she was concerned, he was spoiled and already an alcoholic at the age of eighteen. She’d heard that he had a past record of bad behavior without suffering the consequences of his actions. This fed her anger.

It was in the courtroom that God broke through Barb’s bitterness. When she saw him sitting there in his jail uniform, she thought, “He’s just a boy.” It was then that her heart began to change toward him.

One Christmas after they moved to Lewiston, the phone rang. It was the young man’s mother, Cindy. She told Barb, “I needed to call you. I was out shopping today, and I saw a woman with her daughter. They were having such a good time together, and I thought of you and Katie. You will never be able to do that. I’m so sorry.”

Barb told her, “That’s all I ever wanted. Just to hear you say, ‘I’m sorry.’ That’s all I ever wanted.”

Barb forgave Cindy, and they developed a friendship. Cindy went around to the schools in the area and gave talks about the horrors of drunk driving.

Cindy asked Barb if their family could come see Katie sometime. Barb agreed, and her dad came over to be with Barb to lend her moral support when the day arrived. When their family walked through the door, Barb’s dad broke down and cried. He told them, “My girl’s just been hurt so terribly.” It was a time of tears and forgiveness.

The young man asked Barb, “What should I do to help you, to try to make things right?” That was when Barb discovered that he had found God. Barb told him, “The best thing you can do is marry your girlfriend, know Jesus as your personal Savior, be active in a church, and be a good citizen. That’s how you can make this better for us. I want you to go on and have a good life and do all the things that a person should do to make a life worth living. If you do that, then you’ve helped us.”

Not long after that, Barb helped him get his record expunged. For her, the reason was simple. She thought about what Jesus did on the cross for humanity. Jesus forgave her sins and wiped her slate clean. She now had the power to do that for someone else.

It was a cleansing act for Barb, bringing beauty out of the ashes of their lives.

Photos courtesy Grace Thorson

By PamThorson2 comments

Unstoppable

May 15, 2014

Beauty from Ashes: Part 2

Yesterday, Barb Farrington shared the terrible accident that left her daughter Katie fighting for her life. Today, in Part 2, Barb describes the next steps in their journey.

From Hospital to Home

Katie was at St. Alphonsus Hospital for about a month, where she began to come out of her coma. She was moved to Elks Rehab in Boise, Idaho, where she was weaned off the ventilator. It was around this time that Barb began to notice encouraging signs of awareness in Katie. A friend of Katie’s gave her a little dog. When they put it in Katie’s hands, she would look at it. On a trip out of the hospital, Barb saw Katie watching the trees go by the van window.

But she couldn’t get the medical staff at the rehab hospital to give any credence to these small but significant changes. One day they announced to Barb that they had done all they could and that they were going to release her. They planned to discharge her on a Friday, leaving Barb and Ron scrambling to find a place for her.

They fought for a few extra days at the hospital, while Barb looked for another hospital for Katie. Ron began to get his house ready for Katie’s inevitable discharge home. The hospital in Burns, Oregon, which was near Barb’s home, graciously consented to take Katie until Ron’s home could be readied to accommodate their daughter.

“This girl’s trying to work with me.”

Finally, a doctor noticed her new awareness. He told Barb, “This girl’s trying to work with me. I know a doctor she needs to see: Dr. Josie Fitzsimons.” Dr. Fitzsimons became a good support for the family. She had them move Katie to Bend, Oregon, so they could work with her every day.

But Barb could only be there on weekends, because of her job as a K-3 library tech at the Burns school. When she did go to see Katie, Katie would turn her head away from her and toward the wall. Barb knew Katie was terribly unhappy. “I knew I had to do something different.”

When Ron’s house was ready, Katie was discharged home. Ron and Barb took turns caring for her. Finding respite care was hard. Barb’s marriage began to crumble.

“Oh, Katie, what have you done?”

When did Barb truly realize that Katie was still there, locked inside her body?

“I always knew that. Here’s one instance: When she was at the Burns hospital, my sister and I were dressing her one day. We knew she was tracking things, and hearing things, but we weren’t seeing facial responses. My sister got after me and said, ‘You’re just too rough when you’re dressing her. You need to be gentler.’ Katie laughed, because we got to arguing about it. It was her first laugh.”

“That did it for me. From then on, she started expressing emotion.” One day while Katie was living at Ron’s, Barb gave in to the exhaustion. She broke down into tears and said, “Oh, Katie, oh, Katie, what have you done?”

At that moment, Katie cried. Barb felt really terrible. She’s never mentioned it again in Katie’s presence.

Still, Barb grieved over the changes happening in Katie’s body. Before her accident, she had been a fairly athletic girl. It hurt Barb to watch Katie’s legs atrophy. “A piece of me was dying. Someone has said that when a woman chooses to have a child, that child is her heart walking outside her body forever. It’s so true.”

Greater love has no man than this…

“It was the first time in my life when things didn’t work out right away. I could not believe it. It was the nightmare that you wished you could wake up from.” Barb’s mother came to stay with her and told her, “You cry at night in your sleep.”

Katie’s world had become hers. “And there,” she says, “I think I made a mistake.” Her marriage to Rex dissolved–not surprising, since statistics reveal that few marriages survive the stress of dealing with a child’s disability.

Throughout 1998 and into 1999, they tried taking Katie to various rehab hospitals in a futile effort to help her improve. In 1999, Barb and Katie resettled in Lewiston, Idaho, to be nearer to her family. Of her decision to care full time for Katie, Barb says, “I couldn’t bear to be away from her. God spoke so softly to my heart this Scripture: ‘Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life….’ (John 15:13 KJV) And I just knew.”

Barb now operates a certified family home through the state of Idaho’s Medicaid program. She also cares for another client, Ted, who is protective of Katie. The state pays for fifty-six hours of nursing care a week to help Barb with Katie’s extensive caregiving needs. Barb calls it a “miracle provision.” Ron comes down every other weekend to help. Katie adores her dad, and they love to watch golf together.

Barb feels that God prepared her long in advance for this new job of caregiving. Before she was a library tech, she worked in special education for eight years. “Talk about God preparing me for what was ahead,” she says with a smile.

Today, at age thirty-four, Katie very much understands humor and sadness. She knows her grandma has passed away. She has favorite people. She shows disapproval by wrinkling her nose and frowning, or yelling. She appears to understand some of the subtleties of relationships and displays jealousy.

She likes giving gifts. She loves to help choose them and watch the recipients’ reactions as they open them. It really pleases her if they like it.

Katie communicates by blinking once for yes and twice for no. Sometime she blinks three times. The doctor says she is messing with them.

Tomorrow, Part 3: A New Season and A Story of Forgiveness

Photos courtesy Grace Thorson

By PamThorson2 comments

Unstoppable

May 14, 2014

Beauty from Ashes: A Story of Provision and Forgiveness with Barb Farrington and Katie Tweit

Today I have the honor of introducing a very special family to you: Barb Farrington and her daughter Katie Tweit. Katie suffered a traumatic brain injury in a car accident in 1998. Barb is Katie’s primary caregiver and cares for her in their home in northern Idaho. In this three-part series, Barb shares her very personal story of heartache, restoration, and forgiveness.

The Accident: Angel on Her Shoulder

It was April 8, 1998. Barb and her husband of one year, Rex, were having a branding on the Oregon ranch. Barb tried to get her eighteen-year-old daughter Katie to come up to help with the cooking for the event. Katie’s roommate, Frances, was coming up to ride and rope cattle.

Katie had just landed a new job at a local farm supply company and was going to school at Treasure Valley Community College in Ontario. Oregon. She decided to stay and work at her new job.

The call for Barb came around 9:00 p.m. It was her ex-husband Ron, Katie’s dad. He told her that Katie had been in a serious car accident. She was being life-flighted to St. Alphonsus Hospital in Boise, Idaho, because they had an advanced trauma center.

Barb knew that meant it was bad. She had been told that no bones were broken, which could only mean that Katie had suffered a head injury. She tried to get more information from the hospital, but no one would give her much information over the phone. They didn’t sound encouraging, though.

It was an awful two-hour drive to the hospital.

When Barb, Rex, and Ron arrived at the hospital, they learned more about what had happened. Katie was the passenger in a car driven by a young man who had been drinking. He was driving 110 miles an hour when he lost control of the care. He had been thrown clear. Katie had not.

The doctors had argued about whether they should try to save her.

The accident was terrible. Barb was told that when emergency personnel arrived on the scene, Katie had “death rattles.” She wouldn’t have lived much longer. Barb also discovered that before she arrived at the hospital, the doctors had argued about whether or not to save her. One doctor was adamant that they shouldn’t try.

The medical team had made the decision together to make the attempt. One of the nurses on the trauma team came to visit Barb later. She told her that as they debated Katie’s care, she felt that there was an angel on Katie’s shoulder, protecting her. The nurse just couldn’t push for a decision to let her go.

Barb and Ron were never given an opportunity to decide whether or not to fight for Katie to live. That decision was made before they arrived at the hospital.

The first time Barb walked into Katie’s room, Katie was unrecognizable. Her face was swollen; they’s had to shave part of her hair off to put a pressure monitor into her head to keep an eye on the the swelling in her brain. They weren’t allowed to touch her or talk to her, because any kind of stimulation would be detrimental to her at this point. She wasn’t breathing on her own and needed a ventilator.

No Hope

Katie’s family was given no encouragement about Katie’s prognosis. “It was such a hard time,” Barb says, “We were given absolutely no hope. Nothing.”

One doctor did say that the worst case scenario was that she would never be better than she was at the moment. The best case scenario was that she might walk or talk again. There were no guarantees.

Katie didn’t look good, either. She didn’t respond to others and appeared to be asleep. Her family was told that the first three or four days would be crucial. Most of Barb’s family were in Mexico to attend her nephew’s wedding, held, ironically, on the same day as Katie’s accident. It was difficult to contact them with the news. But Barb was soon joined by her sister, son Andrew with his wife Angie, and daughter Heather.

At the hospital, Barb saw people come in and be released. She saw others that came in and didn’t make it. It was her sobering reminder that God is not a respecter of persons. “You just never know how your situation is going to turn out.” Barb could only wait and pray.

Photo of Barb and Katie courtesy Grace Thorson

By PamThorson0 comments

Caregiving

August 3, 2013

5 Ways to Ease Caregiver Strain

My latest issue of Nursing 2013 came in the mail yesterday. Usually I set magazines aside for later reading, but the title article on this one caught my eye immediately:

Easing the burden on family caregivers

I’ve been a full-time caregiver of a high-level quadriplegic son for sixteen years. I love my job, but I’m always willing to learn anything to ease the workload. I grabbed it and scanned past the clinical stuff to get to the end. I wanted to see what their ideas were for “easing the burden.”

As I guessed, there was no magic bullet, no miraculous new methods for helping family caregivers. There were, however, some things worth noting. Today I’ve pulled out a few of their ideas and added a few things we’ve learned over the years to share with those who care for loved ones.

5 Ways to Ease Caregiver Strain:

1. Learn to depend on others for help.

Caregiving is a marathon. No one can take on such duties day after day after day without respite or assistance. It’s hard to ask others for help, to feel needy. But those around you may wish they could help somehow and just not know what to do. If you’re not comfortable with having them take over the actual caregiving duties, you could see if they would be willing assist you in chores once in a while. If you have the financial resources, you can also pay for such chores as yard work and picking up groceries to save valuable time and energy.

Getting help not only relieves the physical burden, it allows both caregiver and patient a chance to interact with others, a vital necessity for both physical and emotional health.

2. Adapt an assertive, rather than a passive, coping style.

Those who are naturally more passive are more susceptible to crumbling under the burden of caregiving. They tend to stay isolated, worry more, ask fewer questions, and develop a negative attitude.

A healthier coping lifestyle involves actively taking charge of the situation, asking questions and pursuing the answers that will benefit both the caregiver and the patient.

3. Learn all you can.

Understanding what is happening to your family member is crucial to providing the best care with the least amount of emotional strain. Research the disease process or injury, available treatments, and the usual prognosis. It’s especially important to know such basic techniques as how to correctly turn a person in bed, infection control, and bed sore prevention. Know what community, church, and government resources are available.

4. Be kind to yourself.

Caregivers often put the needs of their loved ones ahead of their own needs. In order to take good care of others, you need to be good to yourself, as well. This is easier said than done, since it’s often hard to find time for anything besides work. Try to give yourself permission to care for you. Your family member needs for you to be well.

Hospital emergency departments employ a term called “triage” to decide which patients should be treated first. The idea is to put the most important cases at the front of the line. Do this with your life. Develop your own triage system to care for the “worst first” in your day. If a chore can wait until tomorrow and you’re exhausted, put it at the end of the line. This works well for emotional issues, too. Don’t waste your tears on things that aren’t worth your energy.

5. Talk to someone.

Develop an emotional support system. Have at least one or two people who you can call when you need to cry, vent, or just talk. Don’t just run to those who will agree with everything you say, though. Develop friendships with those who will listen and speak the truth. It’s a two-way street; engaging with others gives our lives new perspective. It may even ignite a fresh appreciation for all we have gained through our own situations.

By PamThorson0 comments

Devotionals

July 2, 2013

In the War for Independence, Who Will Be Their Voice?

Learn to do good;
Seek justice,
Reprove the ruthless;
Defend the orphan,
Plead for the widow.
Isaiah 1:17 NASB

A heat wave has gripped the nation as the United States celebrates Independence Day. In the midst of withering triple-digest temperatures, a cold wind blows. The chill is coming from the icy fingers of death…the death, that is, of compassion.

On July 4th of every year we cheer the American Revolution, committed to the radical notion that every human is equal in the eyes of his Creator and deserving of the most basic of freedoms:

Life.

Liberty.

The pursuit of happiness.

How ironic that the end stage of such a war would, over two hundred years later, those three essential rights would come with asterisks, that the basic foundation stones for our society would be moved at will by those to whom we have charged the defense of our nation.

Today life is only granted for those who are deemed wanted or useful to society. Disabled, defective, or incomplete humans have no place in Darwin’s brave new world of the survival of the fittest. As medical resources have become more scarce, we are already in the process of moving quietly toward allocating care to those most likely to benefit from it in restored contribution to society.

The tenets of liberty and the pursuit of happiness have also been perverted to legalize perversion and squash religious freedom. The long slide down this slope began decades ago, when we began throwing innocence in the trash along with unborn babies, nativity scenes, and school prayer.

I’ve been there. I’ve seen it. Over twenty years ago, I was fighting to keep the doctor from making my disabled mother die because, in his words, “Her life is worthless.” This was not a woman in a coma, but simply crippled and silenced by strokes.

When she first knew something was going wrong in her body, she told me, “Pam, give me every chance to live.” When the time came to give her that chance, the doctor didn’t even ask what she would want. She was worthless, no longer counted.

Sixteen years ago, I was fighting to keep the doctor from pulling the plug on our son after his spinal cord injury. Kevin also wasn’t in the mood to die, but that doctor didn’t ask his opinion, either. Evidently, he no longer counted in the economy of life.

One fight occurred in America; one in Canada; but both were part of the deliberate parade toward exterminating those who do not fit our definition of “useful.” This march transcends nations, politics, and administrations. It’s not being orchestrated by doctors, nurses, or even politicians. It’s the heavy boot step of an unseen enemy with one goal: to destroy all humanity and thus hurt and rob the Creator who made us.

He’s found plenty enough help from us. Our society is sick; in fact, our world is sick. As we fall collectively farther and farther from God, the compassion and care for others that naturally flows from His heart falls with it. Life no longer has dignity by virtue of being. The body is no longer considered the temple of a living soul, but a glob of throbbing tissue and random brain waves. Life itself is open to interpretation.

It’s all been complicated by the advance of medical technologies that have blurred the lines between living and dying. When to give up has become harder and harder to decide. I understand the pain endured by many families in making the tough medical decisions necessary for their sick and injured loved ones.

This isn’t about those issues.

This is about speaking for those without either voice or choice. It’s about remembering that we are made in the image of of the great I AM; valued because we are. It’s about those with power using that power to protect the powerless. No one should have to prove that they can be useful on order to deserve life.

No one but God has the right to give and take life. Nor does anyone have the right to decide who is worthy of our care. The more I learn about what is being done today in the name of medicine, the more I mourn, and the more I determine this:

For those without a voice: I must speak.
For those whose limbs are silent, I will, by the grace of God, be their hands and feet.
To a hurting world, I long, with all my heart, to be the expression of His comfort.

America, America, as we celebrate this birthday, may God shed His grace on us, the undeserving.

By PamThorson0 comments

Unstoppable

June 15, 2013

The Shepherd Family

It was just a shopping day with her mother and eighteen-month-old daughter Laura. Linda was driving the car that fateful day after Christmas when an unguarded moment sent them careening into the path of a minivan at sixty miles an hour. The collision took off the back seat of their car.

Linda and her mother were dazed but okay. But little Laura’s car seat went flying out of the car on impact and landed in the middle of the freeway with Laura still buckled in. She was much too quiet.

At the hospital, Linda discovered Laura had suffered a devastating brain injury. She was sent to ICU, where she was wracked with seizures. Surgery relieved the swelling, but she remained unconscious and hooked up to a ventilator. Linda repelled the doctor’s suggestion they remove Laura from the ventilator, and when they had the opportunity to move her to a hospital closer to home, Linda was sure her daughter would begin to improve.

At the Colorado hospital, however, twenty-four health care professionals gave her an unanimous decision: Laura was in a vegetative state. She was given no hope for improvement.

Although Linda outwardly fought for her daughter to be kept on the ventilator, inwardly she was in turmoil. One desperate night she made plans to take Laura off the ventilator and overdose herself on pills to end their suffering. As she contemplated this, she knew her actions would also be taking the life of her unborn child, barely two weeks old.

Thankfully, her reason returned before she acted on her impulse. She went to sleep that night terrified of her own dark thoughts and the knowledge she had almost acted on them.

That moment signaled a turning point for the Shepherd family. Linda surrendered her life and the lives of her children once again to God. Laura stayed the same until, ironically, she awakened from her coma one day at the sound of her new baby brother crying.

lifepamwithlaurahr — Laura interacts with therapist Pam Hyink

Today Laura remains paralyzed and on a ventilator. But she smiles and laughs and fills her family with joy. Her father Paul and brother Jimmy are her tender protectors. She has taught her world much about the value of those who are broken by the world’s standards, but beautiful beyond comparison in the eyes of God.

Linda is an author and speaker who shares the lessons God has taught her through their tragedy. The trials she has endured form the springboard from which she ministers the peace and healing she has received through her Savior.

Laura’s life is a reminder we are all broken in some way, and God loves all the imperfect vessels He calls His children.

Linda Evans Shepherd lives at home in Longmont, Colorado, with her husband and their two children, Jimmy and Laura.
Linda is an author and speaker, the publisher of Right To the Heart of Women Electronic Magazine and president of the nonprofit organization, Right to the Heart.

Molly the Pony

Molly was one of the many animals displaced by the wrath of hurricane Katrina in 2005. She was taken in by Kaye Harris, but she suffered an added tragedy when another displaced animal, a pit bull, mauled her on her jaw, abdomen, and legs. The right leg was the worst. She received emergency treatment and most of her injuries healed. But the right leg could not be saved. Kaye Harris’ veterinarian recommended Kaye put Molly down.

But Kaye had watched Molly adapt to the dead leg as she healed from the other wounds. She already knew how to walk, lie down, and get up using three legs. Her tenacity moved Kaye. Like New Orleans, Molly was a survivor. Kaye appealed to the veterinarian to help Molly get a prosthesis for her right leg.

They found help at the Louisiana State University School of Veterinary Medicine. Dr. Rustin Moore was skeptical but was swayed when he met Molly and saw her will to live. Molly came to be one of the few horses to overcome the challenges of amputation and live with a prosthesis.

As Molly recovered and adapted to her prosthesis, it occurred to Kaye that Molly was a Katrina comeback story. She was a bit of good news and inspiration to a region that had suffered much loss. Kaye began taking Molly to hospitals and granted media interviews to tell Molly’s story. Since then, Molly has become an ambassador for amputees and an encouragement to those suffering from disabilities.

Molly is now the mascot for Kids and Ponies Foundation. She travels to encourage others with disabilities and to help others understand disabilities better.

You can read more about Molly and the Kids and Ponies Foundation by visiting http://www.myspace.com/mollythepony.

This amazing little pony is featured in these books:

Photos courtesy Kaye Harris

Nominate a family to be featured in this series!

Do you know a very special family that personifies the word “unstoppable?” Can you think of someone that has taken on the challenge of disability or chronic disease and turned it into a victory dance?

They are all around us, people who live with what others might think of as loss. They are people with incurable conditions, devastating disabilities, or birth defects. Instead of wallowing in self-pity, they have risen above their suffering to live fully. These people and their families have learned how to appreciate the beautiful in the broken. Trials are just bumps in the road for them

They are the everyday heroes.

They are unstoppable.

If you know a family that expresses the spirit of a victor, nominate them to be featured on this site in a future story. Just be sure to get their permission first. Then go to the contact page and send me their names and an e-mail address at which they can be contacted. I will never share their addresses, or yours, with anyone else.

By PamThorson0 comments

Tag: disability

The House That Grace Built

In a day, our world changed forever.

Then, without warning, a door opened. Then another, and another.

Living in Graceland.

The Gift of Existence

It would have been so much easier to die.

But God wasn’t there to take him to heaven.

Today I understand this: Existence, in all its facets, is a gift.

It is in loss that we understand the gift.

Learning the Meaning of Sacrifice: Grace Thorson

Beauty from Ashes: Part 3

A New Season

Never Give up Hope.

A Life Worth Living: A Story of Forgiveness

Beauty from Ashes: Part 2

From Hospital to Home

“This girl’s trying to work with me.”

“Oh, Katie, what have you done?”

Greater love has no man than this…

Beauty from Ashes: A Story of Provision and Forgiveness with Barb Farrington and Katie Tweit

The Accident: Angel on Her Shoulder

The doctors had argued about whether they should try to save her.

No Hope

5 Ways to Ease Caregiver Strain

In the War for Independence, Who Will Be Their Voice?

The Shepherd Family

Molly the Pony