Stability For Our Time

I'm not going to recap Luke's condition in detail because it's 2:30 AM and I'm tired. He's been diagnosed with ARDS, Acute Respiratory Distress Syndrome, which is his case a label for what we knew already; his lungs are very sick. To make things more interesting, Luke is battling an infection that's raised his temperature to 103. I've spent the last couple of hours in his room,praying at his side.

I'm not a big prayer. I say what I need to say and get on with it. But tonight I felt like I needed to be in his room praying. I'd been worried all day, but worked to keep my family's spirits up. After they left, and I found out about the fever, I was afraid. Very afraid. I went into his room, and stood by him and prayed. While they spread a cooling blanket over him, I prayed. While the respirator therapist worked on the super special ventilator they have Luke on, I prayed. While his temperature climbed and his numbers go worse, I prayed.

I begged, pleaded, cajoled and bargained. I promised. I offered. It all boiled down to one simple thing. "Lord, please don't take my son, but Your will, not mine."

I was praying in fear and worry,and I felt oppressed. Then, at about 2:20, something changed. I was comforted. My fear fell away and it was like I got a breath of fresh clean air after breathing stale fumes. My fear, worry and confusion were lifted. I don't believe in predicting the future but I do believe with all my heart and soul that Luke will make it through this latest challenge. I believe that my prayers and the prayers of all the people who have been praying for Luke this past week, have been answered with a "Yes."

He's still a very sick boy, but he will recover.

As Luke's brain improves,his lungs continue to weaken. We're in a kind of Catch-22 where they can't treat his lungs effectively because of the Traumatic Brain Injury protocol but they can't get a CT scan to take him off of the TBI protocol until his lung function improves. Situations like this are why doctors make the big bucks. Luke has been treated according to the best practices for brain injuries, but those practices are now hampering the treatment of his lungs. His doctor has a call to make; stick with the protocol and hope his lungs improve, or assess the condition of Luke's brain based on the indications he has at hand without a CT scan to provide verification and remove Luke from the TBI protocol in order to more effectively treat his lungs.

It's not a call I'd want to make when a young man's life is on the line.

Luke is back on 100% O2 after a very eventful day. This morning, his doctors decided he was ready to have his chest tube removed and that he was ready to come off of the paralytic and possibly remove the Cranial Pressure monitor following a CT scan. The removal of the chest tube went well, and Luke looked good for most of the day. They began reducing his paralytic medication, and he started twitching again. Around 5:30, he'd been completely off the drug for about 30 minutes when things went screwy. He started to fight the ventilator, and his gag reflex and cough reflex really kicked into high gear. He was so uncomfortable that despite heavy doses of the pain killer and the anesthetic, he nearly woke up. His BIS score, a scale that measures your level of consciousness (100 is fully conscious, 40-50 is ready for surgery, 30 is where they've been keeping Luke) rose over about a minute from in the low 30s to around 87. That's when his eyes opened.

He wasn't seeing anything, and he wasn't really awake, but he wasn't far from it. Because he was fighting the ventilator, his blood O2 level went down significantly while his CO2 went up. The increase in CO2 level caused his inter-cranial pressure to increase. He very quickly exceeded the parameters allowed for the TBI protocol, so his nurse put him back on the drug, and just as quickly, he stabilized. It was very exciting, somewhat scary, and certainly intense. It also exhausted Luke, and as I noted, he has taken a downward turn with his lung function. The frustrating part is that if he had been off the TBI protocol, they could have left him off the paralytic and used other anesthesia to help him tolerate the vent tube. But as it stands now, we're in kind of a bind.

Of course, there is a lot of good news in all of this. His brain is working properly at it's most fundamental level. Most of his reflexes operated properly, and even though his ICP spiked, once the stimulus was removed, it came right back down without medication. He showed that he will come off of the sedation fairly quickly and easily.

But the lungs are center stage right now, and while there are several things the doctors can do to help them recover, they will be much easier to do if we can get Luke off of the TBI protocol. Tomorrow's rounds will be very interesting.

Luke's lungs continue to keep us on a roller coaster ride. He had a good day for most of the day yesterday, then around 5PM, he started having trouble maintaining a good oxygen level in his blood. Similar to Thursday's episode, his numbers went down sharply and his nurse was worried which means I was very worried. They administered Flolan and jacked the vent oxygen back to 100% and he responded after a short time. He's been very stable since around 1AM, but they are having to maintain his vent O2 at 70% For comparison, healthy lungs get all the O2 we need from regular air, which is only 21% O2. Luke's lungs are very sick, but the nurses are still able to keep his blood oxygenated using standard protocols, which is a very good thing. If Luke follows a standard pattern, he should hang out here for a couple of days, and then begin to recover, but so far, Luke hasn't been one to follow anything typical. The important thing is that his doctors and nurses are still very optimistic for Luke's prospects and so are we.

Over the last week, I've learned a lot of things I never thought I would. I know quite a bit about how to read monitors and assess a neurological patient. I understand a lot more about the care and support of a damaged brain. I've learned words like "profusion" and "decompensate" and abbreviations like ICP, CPP, CVP, and others. But I've learned other things that are far more important.

There's more going on here than just my son's accident and injury. My entire family is changing based on our reactions to what has happened. I've gotten to know Luke's girlfriend and her family so well that they are now part of my family. I've gotten to know all of my kids better, as this incident has caused us all to break down barriers we've built over years to speak honestly and openly, without fear,pain, or distrust. It isn't just that I've been able to see my children standing firm in the face of fear and pain; I knew that they were all strong when we were raising them. But I'm learning how they see me, how they see mistakes I've made, and more importantly, have learned what I tried to teach them and then surpassed it.

It goes beyond my family. Luke has touched many lives in our community, just because of the man he is, and his story is reaching even further. I'm not exaggerating when I say that lives are changing because of what happened to Luke; not just our lives but the lives of people we've never even met. God is doing a great work through my son, and my little chronicle here is the smallest part of it.

Over the past week, I've felt doubt, comfort, fear, relief, love, sadness, sheer terror, and absolute peace. I've watched my kids play, and my grandchildren scamper around the lobby. I've talked with my sons and my daughters, opening my heart to them while they open theirs to me. I've had people tell me things I never knew about my son, things that make me proud enough to burst, things that break my heart because my son was afraid to tell me himself for fear I would think he was silly. What did I say, what mistakes id I make to ever give him the idea that I would consider his loves and feelings to be silly? How could I have been so unfeeling and unseeing? If I could,I'd go back in time and take whatever it was away, so my son would know just how I felt about him, how proud I have been to watch him grow, to see the joy in his eyes when he sees his girl friend, or the mischievous grin he wears whenever he's up to something. He knows I love him, and he knows I'm proud of him, but boys and men need to hear it, and I guess I never said it enough.

You can bet that will change, and not just for Luke, but for all my kids, and the rest of my family.


We just don't have time to put anything important off because we never know what tomorrow holds. When we talk to somebody today, that might actually be the last time we talk to them ever, I really don't want my last words to a child to be, "If I had known, I would have told you 'I love you' more often."

According to the Knox County Sheriff, no weapon was used other than fists in the assault on Henry, he had no trauma present when he went to the hospital, and he died from a simple overdose. Sheriff Jones bases this assessment on the statements of the men accused of assaulting Henry, and an incomplete autopsy report. He then stated that this is the same level of professionalism that all victims of crime in Knox County can expect to receive. Given that the Granju's have medical records that detail a fractured skull, cracked ribs, and other major injuries, the Sheriff's statement of professionalism probably won't help Knox County residents sleep well at night. It does, however, make me glad I live in Sevier County.

It's late Friday night, or early Friday morning if you want to be technical, and Luke has had another good day. His ICP is stabilizing at the high end of the normal range, which isn't great, but the fact that it is doing so with minimal medication is a good thing. His lungs are rebounding well from yesterday's crisis, and while he is still on Flolan, they've been able to reduce the dose to half what they started on and reduce the O2 to 50%. We have a new night nurse and he is taking really good care of Luke. The neurosurgeon is still happy with Luke's progress, and I can't tell you how great it is to hear them saying "When Luke wakes up," instead of "If he wakes up."

It's amazing how your perspective changes when things go really wrong. Less than a week ago, I was talking to my son about his plans for the future. We talked about going to see Blues Traveler at Sundown in the City. We talked about whether he was going on to college or not, an what he wanted to do with his life.

He asked me to take a couple of pictures of him so his older brother could paint his portrait. I told him we would do it in a day or two since he was headed over to his girlfriend's house.

Less that 24 hours later, he was hooked to a ventilator, and I can't really take any good pictures of him because his face is obscured by tubes and wires. I can't tell you how surreal it is to look at him now. There are times when this feels almost like a bad dream. There isn't the overwhelming terror of a nightmare, but a wrenching feeling of discontinuity. We shouldn't be here; this shouldn't be happening. We took a wrong turn somewhere and wandered into the wrong universe where the story line was radically altered by some mad screenwriter. At other times, this is all too real.

I'm surrounded by people who are much worse off than I am. Don't get me wrong; Luke was injured badly, but right now, he's heading in the right direction, and we have hopes for a full recovery. We have hope. There are others here who have no hope. Their loved ones,their family members aren't ever coming home with them. I feel helpless in the face of their grief, embarrassed to witness what should be a private moment, and ashamed of the relief I feel that I'm not one of them. At least not tonight. I want to be able to say something to comfort them, but I know there's nothing to say. All the familiar platitudes are just that, meaningless noises we use to fill an otherwise awkward silence. Since I can't say anything, I pray. I ask God to send them peace and the strength to bear up under their burdens. I try not to infringe on their privacy but remain open to an opportunity to help whenever possible.

Being here reminds me every moment of how blessed I am, which is certainly an odd statement considering my son is on life support just two rooms away. But that's just it; my son is there and he is on life support. He is expected to recover, albeit with lots of therapy and rehab. He could have died in the accident. He could have died from his injuries. He could have been left in a coma for the rest of his life. He could have been left permanently and majorly impaired. Some of these things are still possible outcomes, but they are much less likely, and that is a huge blessing. And it goes even further. People's lives are being changed because of what happened to Luke. My life has changed; my relationship with God is changing; my son's friends are changing; and as Luke's story spreads, lives are being changed that I don't even know about. God is working through this,and as He promises in the Bible, he's doing all good things. Yes, this is a trial for us, for me and Luke, his mother,and the rest of the family, but our trials are creating other people's blessings.

Earlier in the week, I was asked the question "Would you trade the life of your son to save a stranger's soul?" My answer was "No." At the time, I thought I was failing a test, but last night, I got a new insight. I learned that I didn't have to sacrifice my son because God had already done it for me.

“For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life.
He sent His only Son to die for us, so that we wouldn't have to die.

The awesomeness of His sacrifice became clearer to me than at any other time in my life. It's one thing to quote John 3:16 by rote; it's another thing altogether to gain an intimate acquaintance with the enormity of the sacrifice God made for us. It's a humbling experience as well as an eye opening one.

Things are more complicated, but still improving. Luke's lungs have started retaining fluid and crud is building up. This is not entirely unexpected; it's a common complication for people on respirators. The good news is that Luke is responding well to treatment, is getting plenty of oxygen to his brain, and his ICP numbers are holding very low with minimal medication. We've still got a long way to go, and he probably won't be awake for another week or so, but we're getting to the point where we can begin to see a clearer picture of the path forward. Starting sometime next week, they should begin to taper his medications and work to remove him from the ventilator. He'll probably remain in the ICU for another week, maybe two during this process. At the end of the process, he should be awake,and we'll be able to assess the amount of damage, and begin to plan rehab. After two to three weeks of paralysis, he'll have to build up strength, and learn to walk all over again. Most of the damage is in his frontal lobes, so his cognitive abilities should be relatively unaffected, although his personality may have some unattractive new features. Mood swings, rages,and a lack of any cautionary impulses are all potential effects of frontal lobe damage.

We'll deal with these challenges as they come. We've been told that the first 18 months are the period with the greatest gains from therapy and rehab, and after that time, Luke will be as good as he will get. I taught grown men to read in a week and a half during boot camp. 18 months is almost an eternity.

Speaking of eternity, God is clearly at work in Luke's life. I haven't seen his Jeep yet, but from what I've been told, the first miracle has nothing to do with his healing, but with the fact that there was anything left to heal. I praise God for giving me the strength to get through the last few dark nights, and give thanks to Him for giving me the strength to deal with the ordeals to come. It is too soon to expect that everything will go well, and I know there may be disappointments and setbacks, but I also know that God has it in His power to heal Luke entirely if it is His will, and in His plan. Whether He does so or not, I know that He will give Luke,me, Lindsay, and the rest of us the strength we will need to walk the path He places in front of us.

And that's a miracle in itself.

It's all about proper victim selection criteria. You see, if you take a tire iron to a drug addict, no biggie. The Knox County Sheriff's office will walk away from it because there's no real victim, and there's no profit in it.

I know; it sounds harsh and unfair, but it's the truth. The sheriff's department knows who beat Henry, but they haven't felt it necessary to pursue the investigation. And this isn't an isolated case.

15 years ago,in August of 1995, my wife's brother was murdered in Knoxville. The similarities are striking. Scott Norman was a good kid who was trying to straighten out his life after making some bad decisions. He'd gotten into drugs just like Henry, but unlike Henry, he'd managed to get out of the scene. One day, he gave a friend a ride and was caught up in a drug deal gone bad. He was attacked and savagely beaten,then left to lie in the street for hours before somebody called 911. He lingered for 23 hours before succumbing to his injuries, ad the long delay in treatment contributed to the severity of his injuries.

In Scott's case, the attacker was apprehended almost immediately and confessed to the crime. He spent about three months in jail, before bonding out to await trial. While out on bond, he was arrested several times for petty crimes but for some reason, his bond was never revoked. Jaime Satterfield of the Knoxville News Sentinel picked up the story, and after raising the profile of the case, the attacker went back to jail for a couple of months before bonding out once again. While out on bond, he again was arrested for a major drug crime. This time, the DA took the arrest seriously, much to the dismay of Scott Norman's family. For the purpose of fighting the War on Drugs, the Federal government gives money to state and local courts for successful prosecutions of major drug cases. The DA in Scott's case made a deal with his killer. If he would plea to the drug bust, they would drop the second degree murder charge to manslaughter. The man agreed and pled out to both charges. He was given a 12 year sentence, all but one year converted to probation, and given credit for time served. After sentencing, he served only a few months for a brutal killing before walking out of jail. Did the DA give a murderer a break in order to add a little more money to his budget? I can't say, but I really don't think a few months in jail is an adequate penalty for beating a man to death.

But after all, he really didn't do anything bad, but kill a former drug addict. And the local judicial system received additional funding through the plea deal, so everybody won.

Well, everyone but Scott Norman, but he was a drug user, so who really cared about him or his family.

The same judicial system is now treading the same ground, only this time, the victim is not a voiceless man from a simple family. Henry has a voice, a very loud voice. Led by his mother, Katie Allison Granju, and amplified but hundreds of citizen journalists like me, who will speak out and will do our best to make sure that the KCSO does not let this go by.

I read the KCSO press release, available here, and I'd like to issue a couple of corrections. The attack on Henry was not "alleged." There are x-rays, pictures, and medical testimony to prove that Henry was indeed attacked. When a tir iron is applied to the head and chest, with he resulting physical injuries, at the very least, there is a clear cut case of assault and battery, if not assault with a deadly weapon. The perpetrators have been identified by multiple witnesses. I'm not a skilled detective, and I know the names of the attackers. I have a friend whose son knew Henry and the people he ran around with, and he knows the entire story.

Proving murder will be extremely difficult in this case as the cause of death involves both the beating and the drug overdose. However, the beating would be very easy to prove, and at the very least would get a dangerous group of thugs off the streets for a while.

So now we get to see which is more important to the KCSO and the people who administer justice in Knox County: Justice for Henry or money for their budgets.

Knox County, it's your move.

I left the hospital today to go home, shower, shave, and catch a couple of hours of sleep. On the way home, I pulled off of the interstate to get some gas. As I rolled down the off ramp, I saw a group of four people holding up signs and begging for money. I didn't pay them any attention, just drove on by and went to the gas station. As I got back onto the highway, it began to bother me. I mean, here I was, living in the middle of a grave crisis, calling on God for Grace and Mercy and receiving both, and I couldn't obey one of the simplest and most basic of His commandments: Help the poor and feed the hungry. It bothered me all the way home.

As I headed back to the hospital, I got a second chance. I pulled off the interstate, this time to put some oil in my truck, and there was a man standing next to my truck when I came out of the station. He was dirty, with a wild beard and a wilder smell, carrying an old sea bag covered with sweat stains and road grime, and he asked me if there was anything he could do to help me for some money. I pulled out my wallet and gave him all the cash I had on me. It was just a few bucks, some singles I'd been saving to use for the parking fee, but he looked at it as I placed it into his hands like I'd just given him a hundred dollars.

He started putting the oil in my truck and I asked him where he was headed.

"Down the road," he said. "I don't have any other destination in mind."

I asked him what he was looking for.

"Sir, I'm not looking for anything. I'm just weird like that. I've tried being a citizen, but it just isn't for me. I need to be moving."

I asked him his name and he told me it was Mark, and then he said "God bless you Sir for this."

I told him that God had blessed me, and told him about my son, and how he was recovering. We talked for a couple of minutes and I told him that I didn't know his situation, or what he needed, but that God would bless him if he asked.

"I've given my life to God more times than I can count," he said. "More times than any man should. But I'm not a good Christian because I don't make any progress. If you are truly a Christian, you should show some progress, and I don't. I do so many bad things, and I know that if I die, it's my own fault. God doesn't lead us into sin. He won't do it. If there's quicksand on the path, he won't lead us into it. But he won't force us to stay out of it either. He might say 'I wouldn't go in there if I were you. It's going to be bad if you do,' but He won't stop us. But here's what he will do. If you step into the quicksand and start to sink, if you put out your hand, he will raise you up out of danger. But if you keep stepping into the quicksand, he won't keep pulling you out."

I said"Mark, Jesus told us to forgive not seven times, but seven times seventy. Do you think we can be more forgiving than God? If we must forgive seven times seventy times, then God will forgive seven times seven hundred times. Or seven thousand times."

Mark looked at me for a second, and then sad,"God bless you brother, for speaking to me like that and for not judging me." And then he said something else that really struck me. He said, "God sends the rain to water the wheat and the tares in the field. He waters the flowers and the weeds, the fruit and the weeds, the tomatoes and the weeds. But when it comes time to harvest, well, I'm a weed."

I told him "All men are weeds, Mark. We all sin and fall short. But we can all be forgiven."

I told him that I needed to get back on the road to be with my son, and we parted with more "God Bless Yous" than a pepper factory on a windy day, and I drove on back to the hospital. As I drove, I thought about what Mark had said about being a weed, and it occurred to me that the only difference between a weed and a wildflower is whether the gardener wants it in his garden or not, and God wants us all in His Garden. We're not weeds; we're wildflowers.

We got the latest CT scans this morning and they were very encouraging. There is some diffuse damage, confirming the diagnosis of DAI, but it is relatively mild and hasn't shown any progressing damage. This is an awesome sign, as it indicates that the DAI is relatively mild and the major concern is back to the two small bleeds in Luke's frontal lobes. Before today, if you told me I would be relieved to find out that my son will probably require significant rehab to recover from his injuries, I would have called you crazy. But hearing those words today brought the first tears to my eyes this week, and they were tears of relief.

When you're talking about rehab, you're no longer talking about a possible persistent vegetative state, and as I told the doctor, the nurse, and anyone who would listen, we taught Luke to walk and talk once before; we can do it again if need be. The important thing is that, barring complications, we will be getting Luke back.

Luke's neurosurgeon was happy enough with the CT results(decreased swelling, decreased bleeding, no signs of increased DAI damage) that he gave the order to start removing Luke from the drug that kept him paralyzed. His associate told me this morning that she expected the process to take all of today and probably tomorrow as well to get him off the meds and stable, and her prediction seems to be about right. They had Luke off of the medicine by around 5PM today, but it's made it very difficult for them to control his intercranial pressure so they've had to give him what amounts to boosters of the paralytic to maintain his pressure.

They're also doing a chest x-ray because his blood oxygen levels are lower than they would like, and when the nurse suctioned him, they pulled out some fluid. This is a complication they wanted to avoid, but it isn't uncommon in patients who have to lie flat for long periods of time. His nurse tonight is a very forthright and protective lady and I am confident that she will make sure that everything is done for Luke in the best way possible.

Transitions are hard by nature because everything becomes dynamic. In a system as complex as the human body, every variable affects 10 other variables. By removing the paralytic, Luke began to move around a bit, mostly twitches and small jerks. This increase in activity, although minuscule, resulted in the need for more oxygen. Since he's breathing by respirator, they had to adjust it to supply more O2 and purge the extra CO2 from his blood. His blood O2 level did not increase as expected, which led them to check his lungs and so on. Managing the transition takes skill and dedication, and Luke's night nurse has them in spades, along with the protective instincts of a mama bear.

Of course, I'm concerned over the shifts and spikes that are going on, but I'm not afraid anymore. Like I said yesterday, Luke has a good heart, and that can't happen without being touched by the Holy Spirit. The more his girlfriend's mother tells me about the boy I raised, the more I learn about the man God is raising. While he may or may not be saved yet, I know that God has touched him with His Spirit, and the Bible tells me that Jesus said that He would bring to the Father all who had been called. That thought gives me peace because my soul knows that Luke has been called, and he will be gathered.

Now don't get me wrong; I still worry, and I'm still praying for my son to be restored to me. This is not a happy time in my life, and it still hurts to see my baby boy lay there on a bed with all the tubes and wires. It's still difficult for me to see the pictures of "that crazy Luke smile" but the fear and despair are gone. To me, that is just as much of a miracle as the healing we're watching right now, and I am thanking God for His mercy and His grace.

I do, however, still question His methods. Yes, that's a sin, and I'm working on it, or rather, God is working on it.

People have told me that I have an air of calm, or serenity and when they do, I just quietly nod, and mumble something politely awkward and let it pass rather than tell the truth. I'm not really serene; I'm just a hard hearted man. I am not an emotional man by nature. Well, that's not entirely true. I am emotional, but I was trained from a young age to hide my emotions and I got very good at it. I got so good at it in fact that I was able to hide my emotions from myself. I convinced myself that I could control what I felt and I lived that way for years until it all fell apart on me. I went through several months of therapy and learned what I called control was just a nicer way of saying repression and that I would have to learn to let myself feel, even if it hurt. Especially if it hurt.

It could have been a lifelong project. I've been working on it. I can admit when I'm angry, but it takes quite some time, and I'm usually so angry by the time I say something that I just make matters worse instead of better. I know enough to understand that the fault lies not in expressing my feelings, but in the way I express them. I'm making progress, but it's been very slow. One area where I'm not satisfied has been in my relationship with God. I love Him, but there's no passion, and I want that passion. So I prayed for it.

More specifically, I asked God to help tear down the barriers I'd built around my heart.

It was a daring prayer, almost on par with asking God to give patience and I believe he is answering that prayer. A friend of mine suggested that maybe Satan was coming against me as I grew in faith and knowledge. That might well be true, but if it is, God is only allowing Satan to work against me in order to serve God's purpose, that of molding me and shaping me in His will and His image.

One of the toughest questions facing any Christian is "Why does God allow bad things to happen to good people?" While there are some erroneous assumptions built into that question, the best answer, the only answer, is the truth: God let's bad things happen so he can lead us to better things later.

In just a few hours, we'll begin to find out just how serious Luke's injuries are, and how long the path back will be. That's when we'll get the results of the next CT scan. The neurosurgeon dropped by briefly this morning,mentioned the words Diffuse Axonal Injury and vanished. Fortunately the RN stayed with us and explained things. DAI is a general injury to the brain. It isn't located in one single spot, but is spread throughout the brain tissue, which can result in severe damage. Shaken baby syndrome is a form of DAI. The pages I've read on DAI sound very bad, but according to the folks here, there are levels of DAI, and it is possible that Luke will turn out to have a very mild case, similar to a very bad concussion. We just won't know for sure until they let him wake up, but the results of this CT scan will give us a place to start. If the CT scan is basically unchanged from Monday, then that is an excellent sign. On the other hand, if there's newly apparent damage, and it is non--localized, well, that's not so good.

The scary part of this is that Luke was coming around in the emergency room. He was smiling at his friends and brother, he locked eyes with me, and he was able to respond to simple commands by the ER staff. According to the ICU RN, Luke had a GCS of 11 when he got there, but within 45 minutes had regressed to a 9. One of the hallmarks of DAI is a regression like this without any indications of trauma on the CT scan. The staff decided to move proactively and treat Luke for the worst possible case.

Yesterday afternoon, I went through a period of despair. I couldn't bear to look a my son as he had been. Everywhere, I saw pictures of Luke smiling, Luke laughing, Luke hugging his mother, and I feared that I would never hear him drawl "Hey Paw" again or see the lazy grin cover his face. I was beat down and suffering, crying out to God, "Don't! Don't take my son!" I was out of ideas, out of energy, and almost out of hope. I begged God for His mercy for me and for Luke,and begged for His grace so that I could know that Luke was saved.

I found no relief; I was still miserable. I spent an hour or so with the rest of the visiting family, and then went in to visit Luke again. It was different this time. Instead of missing all the things I might never see again, I saw all the things my son had become. I saw a handsome young man with an open honest face, a young man with strong, clean limbs. I remembered the stories his girlfriend's mother told me about him earlier in the day, about how he helped her with Hunter, her youngest son, how he kept his promises, and respected his girlfriend in everything they did.

And didn't do.

How he cried with Lindsey when she was sad and laughed with her when she was happy. How he had committed to be the best man he could be for her sake. How he sat with Hunter through his treatments for his illness,simply because he knew Hunter was comforted when he was there. It's funny how we know our children so well, but we never really see them until we see them through somebody else's eyes.

I looked at him, and I felt a peace enter my heart. No man can have a good heart unless he's been touched by the Grace of God and the Holy Spirit, and while I know that works do not bring salvation, I also know that my son could not have the heart he has without being touched by the Holy Spirit of God. My despair lifted and instead of mourning those things that he might not ever be, I found myself being thankful for the man he had already become. I'm still scared, and still begging God for mercy and for my son's life, but I know now that if God does call him, I'll be able to accept His will. I won't like it, or agree with it,and I will mourn, but I will be able to accept it. God heard my prayers and gave me Grace sufficient for my needs, and if He answered mine, He can answer everyone's.

My son is a good man, and the world will be diminished if he is called out of it, but my world has already been infinitely enriched by having him in it.

Lord,I am unworthy to receive you into my house, but I know that if you only say the word, my son shall be healed.

Amen.

t's 4AM and I'm sitting in the ICU waiting room while my son lies on a bed a few yards away tethered to a ventilator, every orifice plugged with tubes or wires. His girlfriend and her mother are asleep on the other side of the room, and Isaac, my middle son is asleep next to me. And I'm sitting here, contemplating the ways of God, my inadequacies as a father, and trying to figure out how the boy who graduated from high school last week is facing an entirely different sort of final exam today.

A few weeks ago, this was literally somebody else's problem. A friend of mine, Katie Allison Granju, wrote about the struggle her son Henry was having, recovering from a brain injury suffered after an assault and a drug overdose. I call Katie a friend, but it's a strange friendship. We disagree vehemently on many things, pretty much everything to tell the truth, but when we've met in person, she's always been friendly and good-natured and we got along well. One of the things we've disagreed on is the nature of Christianity and what it means to call ourselves Christian. To simplify things, I am a Biblical Christian, relying on a fundamentally literal approach to reading the Bible while she prefers a more liberal approach. As Henry's struggle continued, Katie wrote some things that really struck me to the core and I felt compelled to respond.

You have to understand, I wasn't led to argue with her, but I felt a calling I hadn't ever felt before as a Christian, a need to witness to her specifically,about issues she raised, and so I decided to write an email. Before I wrote the first word, I prayed to God and asked that He would give me the words so that she would hear His message, and not mine.

And now Luke sits in a hospital bed not too far from where Henry was, God answered my prayer in a completely unexpected and entirely unwelcome way.

There's a lot of Christians who will read that statement and immediately reject it, saying that God would never hurt an innocent in order to fulfill His design. To them, I say "Go read your Bibles my friends." First, there are no innocents in this world, and second, God will do as He wills, not as we think. Non believers will react similarly, bu for different reasons. They'll say that any God who would do that is a malignant and capricious God,and not worth serving. Again, they are wrong because they are trying to judge God by human standards. We know that this life is a brief detour on our journey to eternity, but we often act like we've forgotten that basic truth. Our lives are short, and eternity is long, and if our lives here are painful, but earn us an eternity in Heaven, then that's an easy trade.

So why don't we live like that?

I was asked a question today. It just popped into my mind, but I knew I had to answer it honestly.

"Would you sacrifice the life of your son to save the soul of your friend?"

It was the question asked of Abraham, and of Mary and Joseph,and they answered "Yes, Lord."

I failed the test because my answer was "No."

A second question came into my mind:

"Would your answer be any different if you knew your son was saved?"

"Yes, Lord, it would."

And it's the third question that's been keeping me up all night tonight:

"Have you done everything you could to bring your children to Christ?"

I don't like my answer to this question either.

My grandfather served in the Navy during WWII. My kids' biological grandfather served in the Army. My father served in the Navy just before VietNam. His brother was in the Marine Corps at the same time. I served in the Navy during Desert Storm and Desert Shield.My oldest son is currently serving his second tour in Iraq.

Service to our country runs deep through all three sides of my family (I have a complicated family) but today isn't about us. Today is about the men and women who didn't just serve, but who paid the ultimate price in the course of that service.

Soldiers, Sailors, Marines and Airmen are without a doubt the most civilized members of our culture. While this may come as a shock to the intelligentsia and to the high society types, and to the political elite, it is undeniably true. The man currently occupying the Presidency is a perfect case in point. He talks unceasingly about how we all need to work together for the common good, but that's about all he does. He talks. He tries to convince us that we need to do the work, while he and his cronies enjoy the benefits While that attitude is disturbingly common, there's nothing really good about it.

But the men and women who join the military don't talk about the common good, they preserve it. They don't ask others to do what they aren't willing to do themselves. They place themselves between the nation and all who try to come against it. They walk what others merely talk. And in so doing, some of them pay the final price. And they aren't the only ones who pay. Just about every one of these men and women leave behind a family, a son or daughter, parents, brothers and sisters. These families have to cope with the fact that their loved one is gone, and to make things even harder, they have to wonder of the sacrifice was in vain.

You see, there are those in our country who will use today to throw up our past mistakes; who will take this day of remembrance and try to profane it with images of failure and atrocity. They will attempt to deny the true nobility that these men and women share in their sacrifice.

They will not succeed.

They will fail, because every insult they utter, every vile accusation they hurl, every scurrilous rumor and slander they give voice to was made possible by the blood of those men they try to defile. Without people willing to fight to defend our freedom and liberty, these people would not be able to speak so freely. As Voltaire said, "I may disagree with what you say, but I will defend to the death your right to say it." The men and women of our military lived and died by those words, and their sacrifice washes clean the vile imprecations of ignorant men, rendering them impotent.

Today, the people who guide and shape our culture have declared that the ideals of honor, patriotism, and sacrifice are not just outmoded, but somehow dangerous. We're told that any man or woman who enters the military must be doing so because they have no other options. Our government tells us that people who profess to be patriots, who are motivated by a love of country that runs deeper than mouthing platitudes on certain days, might actually be dangerous, and need to be watched. Our Senators and Congressman defame our military, calling them cold blooded murderers. They do so with no sense of shame, and no fear of facing any consequences for their slander because they know that those who walk in power today agree with them.

But there are millions of us who know better. We know that these men and women represent the best of us, the best values. They represent honor, discipline, sacrifice, integrity, and courage. We know that these are the values that made America strong, and we hold to them tightly. You might even say we cling bitterly to them, despite the scorn and derision we face for doing so. We know that America was founded on these values, and prospered by these values, but that, in the end, the values, not America, are the important things. The federal government may continue to walk away from these values, but we stand fast.

We honor our military. We are grateful for their service and their sacrifice.

The Bible tells us that a man can have no greater love than to lay down his life for another, and the men and women we remember today lived and died demonstrating that love. They have earned our respect and our remembrance.

When Gov. Bredesen's veto is overridden next week and the new law goes into effect, TN HCP holders will be able to keep their guns securely in their possession instea of leaving them in the car when they go get dinner at a restaurant. Restaurant owners have the right to opt out of the provision by posting a sign indicating that guns aren't permitted. The signage does not have to comply with existing law regarding other types of businesses. And that brings me to my question.

Does the new relaxed signage requirement affect all businesses, or just restaurants that serve alcohol?

Wow. Just wow.

I installed it but the app kept locking up. I couldn't shop for books, see what was there, access menus, or in short, use the program to do anything at all. I checked the troubleshooting section, but there were no options for "The app doesn't work!" I uninstalled it and did a fresh install and still no luck. I even rebooted after install, the magic wand that seems to fix most windows issues, and still no luck.

Sorry Amazon, but if this is your idea of progress, I'll stick with good old fashioned paper books.