For weeks prior to Ian's return home, we saw very little response to anything that was happening around him and to any attempts at therapy. There would be the occasional spark of life, but nothing like we've seen since his return. His eyes are open more frequently, and he focuses more. He holds Larissa's hand and reaches for her neck occasionally to draw her close for a hug. Tonight he was cooperating in physical therapy with someone that just started with us yesterday; he'd ask Ian to move his arm, for example, and got the appropriate response.
The brain is a mysterious thing. Ian can recognize and respond to Larissa and to us, but he can't talk. He can give us a long blink in response to a question like, "are you uncomfortable?" But, he can't quite swallow completely yet. He looks like Ian and has some of the same mannerisms that are so Ian-like. But, I wonder where he is and what he's thinking and experiencing.
Lord, we are fearfully and wonderfully made. That becomes even more apparent when things don't work right in our bodies, and we don't know why. You are the One who designed Ian's body, and you are the One who knows exactly what's wrong and how to fix him. You know where he is, and I trust that he's in your hands. After all, where can he go from your Spirit? If Ian were to take the wings of the morning and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea, even there your hand would lead him, and your right hand shall hold him. For you formed his inward parts; you knitted him together in his mother's womb. I praise you for we are fearfully and wonderfully made. [see Ps 139].