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.

Many influences on Christian young people strongly push to avoid marriage, and after that children, until one has reached certain goals. Generally they are financial. And there is also the push to have gotten out to see the world and, possibly, learned who they are in some sort of mystical way. But these encouragements tend, I think, in inhibit the growth of the church through mature Christian adults living God-honoring lives.

It’s true that one should be content with what they have been given where they are in life. But it is true too that maturing means doing things, acting on convictions and taking risks. A mature person does not sit inside hoping to avoid work and the fruits thereof, nor does he run from it by finding meaningless tasks.

The simple point I would like to make is that God has made men and women for a purpose, and has made them designed to help each-other, in an intimate one-on-one manner, to act out that purpose. Be fruitful, multiply, and take dominion. To many young people avoid that calling, and are encouraged away from it by well meaning older Christians.

I was married fairly young, but I wish that I had been ready much earlier in life than I had been. I have never been so blessed as I have been within the marriage covenant and in raising a family for the Lord. It is also the hardest thing I have ever done.  But I would not trade it for all the world.

The first question in what, or who, is the Church is, what, or who, are Christians? There is a simple answer to this, and it is not about a personal relationship. Christians are those who have received a baptism in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Some might say Christians are those who have a good relationship with, or really love Jesus. But that is too ambiguous and subjective. Others say that Christians are the elect. I’m a little more comfortable with this, but again, how can you know? You can’t. But I can answer both of those with baptism. If you are elect, you will love Jesus and want to have a good relationship with Him. If you love Him, you will keep His commandments. One of which is, be baptized.  But what if someone is neither elect, nor loves Jesus, but is baptized? Then he is one of the seeds that took root, but not deeply, and died, or was choked by weeds. God will root him out, either through the normal activities of the faithful Church, or on Judgement Day. But, if someone is baptized and in good standing with the church, I have no choice but to treat him as a brother, encouraging him in love.

So the Church, perhaps, is a collection of baptized Christians. But that can’t be all, because when I have my Christian buddies over, we are not the church. We are members of the church, meeting outside the church. The church is, as Paul tells us, the body of Christ. We, being baptized Christians, are members of that body. Like little fingers and pinky toes. The church extends in time both ways. It is both historical and teleological. But while all Christians are part of the historical church, and we pray for the future church, we are in the present church. The messy one with real people. Being members of a body naturally means having a hierarchy. The pinky toes are not in charge. They are in submission. It is through this submission that we learn to lead, which is to say, to serve. Essentially, the simple answer is that Christians are covenantally bound to the God the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, and to one another. There is a lot tied up with that; fellowship, accountability, putting up with strange people, compromising opinions that are held as beliefs, dealing with other people, obeying elders, making vows and keeping them, loving one another.  

So, the church is, through time, a group of people, repentant, believing, and covenantally bound by baptism to God and one another, submitting to the hierarchy of authority put in place by God, and extending the hand of fellowship to those who would repent, believe, and be baptized. The church, as the body of Christ, teaches us, feeds us, and gives us rest. It is not possible, where the church is present, to be bound to Christ, and to be at odds with His body, the church.

The first sign was the clueless panhandler. His first mistake was that he started with the finishing line. As he first walked by, sporting nice pants, a designer-esque shirt, and a cute dog on a leash, he flashed me a yellow toothed smile and wished God’s blessing on me. All good beggars know to save the blessing until later in the game. Then he told me about how cold it was last night for his dog, (who had not lost her winter coat, or winter’s reserve of blubber). I really did feel sorry for the guy. I was about ready to give him panhandling lessons.

I had only barely gotten rid of him when I heard singing down the street, and coming closer. I looked and there before my eyes is a thin, middle aged man sporting salt and pepper hair, a classic olive suit, latex gloves, and a school-bus-yellow hard hat, swerving down the entire width of the road on a mountain bike.  As he went he circled a group of jay-walking college kids, sing-songing, “My bike is cheaper than your bike! My bike is cheaper than your bike!” Baffled, I continued loading my tools.

Eventually a couple of my coworkers came out, and we began conversing. I pointed out the ecstatic bicyclist who was making mad circles around the square. As we laughed this up, an odd couple, he looking very much like a monkey, and she possibly carrying all her worldly possessions in a backpack, stopped to question us on the nature of the construction project ($1495 a month loft apartments). After hearing a goodly portion of her life story, they left us. No sooner, a new couple walked by, whose timing could not have been written better by a Hollywood screenwriter.

They were an elderly couple. She was pushing him, he having neither leg below the thigh. It could have been a touching picture. But just as they rolled by, we got a snapshot of their conversation.  We had to go back inside after that, unable to contain our gleeful reaction to the effects of what undoubtedly must have been the weather.

He spoke reminiscently. “I one-time peed on the steps of a library.”

“Oh, God, Leroy,” she sighed. “Sweet Jesus.”

Afraid the general atmosphere might be catching, we retreated.

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.