The 4th of July weekend was a busy one for us. I worked Saturday and Monday, days I could have had off, to help get a friend’s house ready for him to move in. Sunday was a whirlwind of fun, fellowship, and business. I spent a lot of the day playing volleyball. Nathan bounced between aunts, uncles, grandparents, his mother, and good friends. Understandably by the end of the day he was exhausted and emotional. We chalked it up to the busyness, the potluck food, and the liberal amounts of root beer lovingly administered by uncles and friends. He slept the whole way home, and all the way to his bed, for which we were grateful.

Around 3:30 Monday he came into our room crying (our rooms adjoin). Before we could get to him he was on his hands and knees vomiting and filling his diaper with diarrhea. By later in the morning he had blood in his diarrhea. He felt well enough to play some, however.

Tuesday he was very listless and vomiting more, but the diarrhea appeared to have stopped. Tuesday afternoon it returned, and so we took Nathan to the closest ER, which was a small hospital in Bolivar. They gave him an IV, took his blood, and then admitted us, because the staff pediatrician was not on call until 7:30 the next morning. When she came in she did more blood tests (more blood tests quickly became a trend), because she didn’t like what she saw. She told us she was afraid Nathan had Hemolytic Uremic Syndrome (HUS). The tests showed the levels of certain chemicals controlled by the kidneys, so if there was a trend of those chemicals not going the right direction, he probably had it.

[HUS is a clinically diagnosed disorder, meaning that they look at over-all symptoms and circumstances for diagnoses. The two big chemicals they monitor are Creatinine and BUN. The kidneys manage the levels of them, and when they get too high they do a lot of damage to the kidneys. The basic explanation of HUS is that a bacteria attacks the body, and the process of fighting the bacteria puts too much stress on the kidneys and they begin to shut down. A majority of HUS cases are caused by E Coli. Nathan's was not. We may never know what initially caused this for him. The treatment is essentially to help the kidneys do their job so the body can spend it's energy fixing the kidneys. If small measures don't work, Dialysis usually does. If it is caught early enough, usually there is no lasting damage to the kidneys.]

Since Bolivar was not equipped to do anything further in our care, we were sent via ambulance to St. John’s, where we had excellent care and were given lots of information on HUS. Dr. Downs, who was in charge of Nathan’s care at St. John’s, continued to monitor his blood levels, and warned us of the possibility of transferring for dialysis, since St. John’s is not equipped to do pediatric dialysis. Thursday night we were transferred to Columbia in case Nathan ended up needing dialysis. His levels had made two jumps in the wrong direction, so we anticipated that it would be likely.

Nathan and Natalie arrived at Columbia around 1AM, and Miriam and I arrived shortly after. We had a fairly uneventful but mostly sleepless (for adults) night. Thursday Nathan’s levels were closely monitored, and a catheter was inserted. Although his levels of Creatinine and BUN did get higher they did not take a big leap. His potassium was still too high, and he was given a medication to help him eliminate that. The decision was made that we would plan on putting in a peritoneal dialysis catheter in Friday morning, and put in a central line as well (which will be used for blood draws, etc, and prevent him from getting even more needle pokes).

The surgery went well, and pretty soon they hooked up to dialysis. Peritoneal dialysis pumps a liquid into his belly, which absorbs toxins via some sort of osmosis, and then pumps it back out. Then it does it again, and keeps pumping and absorbing, and draining, until they decide he’s better.

Nathan was understandably tired Saturday, but he really enjoyed seeing a bunch of his aunts and uncles and both grandpas who all drove up to see him. Jedediah got his first giggle out him since the whole things started. Sunday showed huge improvements in energy, alertness, and attitude. He smiled, giggled, and ate more than he had all week.

Whenever he’s been awake he seems to try to hold onto anything that’s familiar. When his uncles were here he couldn’t stop repeating their names and telling them hi. He is constantly greeting us and Miriam by name, even when we have just been sitting here not moving.

His blood tests have begun coming back with minor improvements. This is of course a huge improvement to us, because they aren’t drastic declines anymore. We don’t know how long it will take for him to get better enough for them to send us home. Some patients make fairly quick recoveries, and some take a while. But overall the prognosis is hopeful. Once his incisions from the surgery heal some more, and if he continues to improve, they will move us out of the ICU in a day or two. The main advantage to that will be comfort, because the ICU has very small rooms.

Through all of this our faith has been challenged, stretched, and grown. But God has been faithful and carried us through. Things we feared have been helps. Our families, church, and friends have come through in unbelievable ways. But mostly, God has given us peace and hope. This hasn’t been easy, but God is good and is carrying us through.

My soul is swelling right now. I really can only find one word to describe it: Joy. As I sit I am listing to Joe Purdy, waiting for the waffles to rise, hearing Nathan’s happy noises as Natalie reads him nursery rhymes, and looking at the wonderful Valentines day gift my darling wife gave me. It is very simple, like most joys. A thin black poster frame, filled with nearly a dozen photos from our honeymoon. The photos are from a disposable camera we got while in North Carolina that I have been meaning to get developed for the last year and a half. Unbeknownst to me, Natalie had them devoloped and then arrenged them tastefully in this frame.

The pictures capture the happiness of that time, the joy of the memories. It especially rings true this morning as we enjoy the continued joy, a joy that has matured over time, and will continue to mature. These memories are powerful mostly because of the reality of the present, and the hope of the future. It is this trajectory that makes memories worth making. The past, the present, and the future are dependent on one another in a sort of way that seems to reflect the Trinity.  They are all dependant on each other. Any over-emphasis of one distorts the others. Memories are made for maturing, they seem to look forward, while the future must keep them in mind to keep going forward. All of this connects in the ever-constant present. Sometimes all three connect powerfully, in hope, love, and joy. And Joe Purdy.

People must live somewhere. Most live in houses. Most of those houses have walls. Most of those walls need to look good. So I have a job. Yes, I am your friendly, neighborhood drywall guy. I go to work. I sand. I spray. I wonder if we are in a recession. Just another day at the office.

The joy is when I come home, which is why I leave for work. Take tonight for example. While I try to type with one hand around Nathan, who is standing on my lap (at nine weeks), Natalie is giggling almost uncontrollably due to something Patrick MacManus wrote in The Bear In The Attic. We are working at some freezer-burned vanilla icecream, garnished with chocolate chips, while I consider whether or not this would go well with what remains of dinner’s Merlot.

Speaking of dinner, it was fantastic. Natalie put mushrooms on my side of the pizza.  (Guys, give your wives earrings, good things happen.) Life’s sweetest pleasures sometimes come in a bunch of small parcels.

I was drifting precariously between wakefulness and sleep. The dark tugged at my eyelids heavily. Thump. “Did you hear that?” I asked. Natalie knows the strange house sounds better than I do. “Do you know what it was?” She didn’t. She did have concerning theories about windows opening. They made me wish I was still asleep. Sleep… Yes… No… Yes… We had been what seemed like hours getting Nathan to sleep. It was my turn. I tried to listen for more sounds. Any hints that I should really be concerned. Not that it makes a difference, I would have to go check things out. But I should wake up first.
The sound of glass breaking is very singular and unique. It is instant and sharp, and yet it lingers on the air. In my groggy state I couldn’t decipher exactly where the shatter happened, but there was no question what it was, glass. Pane glass. The transition from mostly asleep to adrenaline pumped and ready to tear the arms off of whatever it was I was sure was going to come through the bedroom door was instant. It was faster than instant. I shouted, no, bellowed, hoping through some instinct to scare the demon-driven monster away. The dog, outside was barking frantically. His deep, protective bark. I scramble through my drawer for the gun. It wasn’t there. But Natalie assures me it is. She turns on the light, I find the gun, and my AAA powered LED penlight. It was about as likely to penetrate the dark as a pocket knife is to conquer the Amazonian jungle.  But I delved in undaunted. I had no choice.

There is something about having others to protect that makes you brave. I made my way from room to room checking the doors and windows. Down the stairs. I was breathing hard. No glass anywhere. The dog was still barking like mad. Maybe I missed something upstairs. My family was still upstairs. I scrambled up the stairs.

Walmart sells these rolls of padded double-sided sticky-tape. You use them to attach things to the wall. Things like mirror tiles. Said mirror tiles look particularly attractive when placed appropriately in small spaces, like our upstairs bath. I didn’t notice a warranty of any type on the packaging when I bought the tape, but I kind of expected it to last a while. But, failing that, I was left with one question. Why, out of 1440 minutes in a day, did it have to fail in the middle of the night?

The blue light of my LED flashlight cast eerie reflections on the bathroom wall off of the hundreds of glass-mirror shards on the tile floor. On the wall, one of the middle mirror-tiles was missing, leaving a gap. The relief washed over me slowly, though my heart was still pumping. The dog continued lapping around the house bellowing.  Natalie came up. I wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. I hugged her. We both had the same thought at the same time. All the noise, the glass breaking, the yelling, the shuffling and thumping, surely Nathan would have woken, after all the time trying to get him asleep. We looked in the bedroom, and there he lay, sleeping peacefully, as if he knew everything was alright the whole time.

It has been a busy time. And happy. As many know, my son, Nathan Laurence, was born two weeks ago. This has opened my world up in an explosion of joy, love, responsibility, and fear. As my pastor said this morning,  this is not something I can get out of. Essentially, I’m stuck. I have now found myself face to face with the reality of the need for sanctification and Christ-likeness. Laying down my life is no longer an option in a real tangible way. Either I bring home a paycheck, or I am a murderer.

But at the same time, I have been blessed by God in a way more tangible than ever before. The God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob has extended His covenant to a people not His own. He called a people who were His enemies and made them His part of His church, His people. He made us part of the glorious lineage of Heaven, as a good friend of mine put it. He extended the covenant, with covenant curses and covenant blessings, to us. Nathan is a covenant blessing. Nathan is in the covenant. This cause for celebration, and sober consideration.

So we will be celebrating. Nathan will be baptized this week, and after the baptism we will feast. We will feast mainly on pork. This pork is from a pig whose entire existence has been for this purpose, to feed the people of God as we celebrate the entrance of a new covenant member into the church of Christ.

It is just this sort of celebration that I feel is a large part of what it means to be the church. It is living life before the face of God in gratitude and joy. It is by celebrating the blessings of God, and considering them wisely, that we will cause the nations of the earth to bend the knee to Christ. It is by working together, laughing together, and working together that we will fix the economy, the abortion rate, and the drug problems of our culture.

We want to fix the culture so that the world will know the joy that is eating at the Table of the Lamb. We want the world to eat with us at the heavenly table. We convince them, not by politics or changing the law, but by eating rightly before them.  We want the world to sit outside our windows wondering what the fuss is about, why we are so happy in the Lord’s house with the Lord’s people. And we want to invite them in.

Nathan Laurence arrived at 2:38 Sunday morning. He was 8 lbs. 3 oz. and 21 inches long. Mother and son and recovering and doing well.