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"Pester God Without Ceasing" |
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Dear all,
I wish I could claim those words as my own, but they belong to my dear friend, Walter Wietzke. I am to "pester God without ceasing," just like "the woman who kept imploring the judge until he grew weary of her persistence and granted her requests. . . " Walter wrote them in an email in which he also bolded the words "PATIENCE, PATIENCE, PATIENCE." I opened his epistle right after I had a few feisty words with God, something about needing complete healing for Karl, and needing it immediately; that I was tired of the waiting and tired of the wearing, taxing worry and pace. After a defiant "AMEN," I moved my mouse to see if I had any new emails, and there I was greeted with "PATIENCE, PATIENCE, PATIENCE." I cried and smiled and said "Amen" again.
Karl continues to amaze us. It is as if a light switch has been turned on, for in the last few days he is exploring new sounds, new letters, and new words, and noticing and mimicking our mouth formations. As of yesterday, he has begun to initiate "talk." Though not always discernible, we stop everything in our tracks and listen intently. You will all be glad to know that he can finish the last word of each line of "Beans, beans, the musical fruit." For the Germans/uninitiated, it goes like this: "Beans, beans, the musical fruit/ The more you eat the more you toot/ The more you toot the better you feel/ So let's eat beans at every meal!"
Last Monday I was telling Karl about how we used to get up and make scones early every a.m. (for it was early in the Monday a.m., 'round about 5:00, when he likes to get up to greet the day with new sounds). It dawned on me that that would be great occupational therapy for him, to measure the flour, pour it in the bowl, squish the flour and the butter and the sugar together, stir it up, press it out, and cut out the shapes. So I suggested it to his occupational and speech therapists, who were thrilled with the idea. So on Thursday, we made scones. Peggy, the speech therapist, said each of the ingredients into a recorder with a large button, so that before every addition, Karl would have to press the button to hear the words. He was terrific, and demonstrated that he is beginning very intentional movements, and knew what to do to scoop, pour, and stir. We were ecstatic, but not nearly so as Karl, who triumphantly grasped onto the handle of his basket with the warm scones, and held it out for the nurses to sample as we rolled him about in his wheelchair.
We are thinking that as early as Monday the 18th we will see little boy Karl at home, permanently. Mom and I raced around today looking for furniture for him, and I am wanting a model train to go around his room. He loves trains; as I have said, he and Bill went several times a week to go watch them while eating pretzels from the German bakeries, and now, with the Little Engine that Could as such a symbol for us, the train theme seems only obvious. It is great fun to plan for the big day.
Monday is little girl Else's first birthday, and so we will celebrate with a big party and many presents. She has lived so much in her little year, but shines every day with such glee. Karl grins when I tell him that we have presents for Else, and I believe he understands why we will eat cake. He understands most everything, I believe.
I spoke with an aunt of mine about Walter's timely words to me, to pester God, and she added, "Pester and praise!" She is right. There is so much about which to praise God: for Karl's continued healing and the momentum which he has; for his good humor and patience with US; for little girl Else, her fiery spirit and winsome smile; for Mom's willingness to stay and help, and for Dad's safe arrival back in East Lansing, the first time he has been home since the accident; for the Augustana community, who continues to support us unfailingly (they have volunteers preparing meals for us every other day until Christmas, if you can believe it); for Paul and Ingrid, a young couple who have 'adopted' Karl, and made him laugh today as I remember him laughing before. And of course, for the life of Bill, who gave me my blessed children.
Prayer requests would be the following.
PRAISE for Karl, for Else (especially on the eve of her first birthday), for Mom, for Dad, for Augustana, for Ingrid, for Paul, for Walter who reminded me of patience, and for my aunt who reminded me to praise in the midst of pestering;
PESTERING for Karl's complete restored health, because God is a God of health and wholeness, and Karl can be a witness to all that that is God's intention and way with and for the world.
PRAISE for the empty tomb.
God is good.
Peace,
Anna
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