Talking to Ian

( Sorry, David. It's because we like Sarah better than you.)
Ian wanted me to write a post about how to communicate with him. I think that we all tend to forget that we should be communicating with Ian just like we would with anyone else. Here are some (hopefully helpful) tips on how to talk to Ian.

*Talk to Ian like you would have before the accident. You don't have to talk slowly, or loudly, or differently at all than you would to another friend.

*Ian most clearly says yes and no by nodding and shaking his head. If he's not doing that, just ask him to and he will. It's really really clear. He can also give you a thumbs up or down.

*Ian might try to mouth things to you. If you can't understand him, just ask one of us to help you.

*Remember that Ian is aware of everything going on around him. Sometimes people talk about Ian to someone else, but Ian is close enough that he can hear it. It's helpful for me to remember what it would be like for me if someone were talking about me to someone else right in front of me. We should either include Ian in that conversation or talk about it to that person later.

*Ian really seems to enjoy just having someone talk to him. Just let him know what's going on in your life.

*More likely than not, you probably don't need to introduce yourself to him. I know that's different than a year ago when we were asking you to just remind him of who you are. He's never communicated to me that he's forgotten who certain people are, so you're safe just assuming that he remembers you.

I hope these are helpful. I think the biggest thing to remember is that we treat Ian the same now as we used to.

Thank you all for praying. Ian continues to work really, really hard and is impressing his therapists like crazy:)

Larissa

Ian continues to work very hard to talk to us. He's been doing really really well in speech therapy. I went with him on Monday and he said about four or five sentences with his voice. Apparently he was doing it today too in speech. He is mouthing words all the time and trying really hard to get his voice out at the same time.

While this is wondrerful, it also presents a lot of really frustrating and challenging situations. Please continue to pray for Ian's speech- that he would have the knowledge to get his voice working when he needs to, that he could form words, and for patience.

Thank you, as always...

Larissa

Never take life too seriously. Comedic relief.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cCOhI1FwIO0

Grief

I'm not focused enough right now to write a really well-thought out post about grief- but I'm not even sure why I'm waiting until I would be focused enough because I would be waiting for a long time. But I did want to share a few thoughts that came up in a conversation with my friend Jen over Christmas.

I think it's important to remember that even now, while Ian is making significant process, our (at least my) grief hasn't changed. And for others who have suffered and are suffering, you know that it runs too deeply to be easily removed.

Jen asked me how our grief has changed over the past two years. It was a great question and made me stop and think. I described it more of how the feeling of the grief has changed.

When Ian was first in the hospital, grief hand't hit me yet. It was all a whirlwind and instead of grief, I would describe it as intense sadness, confusion and pain. As time went on, and I slowly began to see how much Ian's life had changed, the grief began to grow. And it grew intensely. Constantly slamming me in the face. Never hidden and always there. Everywhere I looked I realized that Ian wasn't there with me.

Time does nothing to grief but make it deeper and more wearying. Two years has not erased any grief. It hasn't made it easier. Time has only made the grief deeper as each day we live one more day without Ian the way he used to be. To re-use one of Steve's illustrations, instead of an intense grief, it now is always lingering, always over our shoulder, always ready to manifest itself.

Ian's progress doesn't change my grief. It encourages me, but it doesn't even touch the grief that I know. Even if Ian were to be healed completely today, I would still grieve for what he has suffered and endured. I would still grieve for what happened to Ian September 30.

There is much to say about grief, but this is it for now. For those who encounter significant suffering in their lives, maybe the grieving never ends, until meeting Jesus.

"Sorrowful yet always rejoicing."

Larissa

Deer bologna

Ian was laying in his bed watching a football game yesterday, and I plopped myself in his wheelchair and joined him. At one point I got up to go get a snack, and I thought of the deer bologna Bill gave us. I got the bologna and a knife, sat down again in Ian's wheelchair beside him and started slicing off some pieces. After a couple pieces I looked over at Ian. Two and a half years ago I wouldn't have given a second thought to offering to cut him a couple slices, but that's not something I would have thought of doing since the wreck...until now. I was actually a little surprised by the thought, but so many things have changed in the last couple months I knew it was a reasonable thing now. I said, "Hey Ian! You want some this?" Immediately he gave me a thumbs up. So, I cut a thin slice for him, held it in front of him and with his thumb and forefinger he took it from my hand and ate it. Over and over I shared deer bologna with him that way...watching a football game.

Cool.

Steve

2008

But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope: The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.

Even while led through dark valleys and long nights that turn into even longer mornings, there is the sweet, but sometimes distant, promise of God's faithfulness. It isn't always revealed to us while we're in the valley and we can't often see it through our suffering eyes. But His faithfulness is there, working itself out for us. It doesn't always show up in our quiet times, or during lonely nights when we feel we need it most. It also doesn't always work itself out like we think it should. But it is there- to me almost like a quiet stream always running behind us, or in front of us up there in the fog somewhere.

God is faithful. And his faithfulness is great. It has taken two years for us to have tangible examples of His faithfulness to answer long-lived prayers, but we have received some. 2008 was a big year for Ian. It stirs my heart and Ian's heart to worship as we recount his deeds:

*He spoke for the first time in two years and continues to learn more and more words

*He smiles

*He now eats and drinks full meals

*He can make decisions for himself and for our relationship

*He can walk and stand with less and less help each time

*He can communicate clearly and consistently to us

Each day God gives a littl bit of Ian back to us. We still have so far to go but have come so far already.

Thank you all for reading, and praying, and sending cards, and fasting, and being faithful to Ian for nearly two and a half years. That is a picture of Christ's faithfulness to Ian.

Here's to a 2009 that is better than 2008. May it be filled with more laughter than tears and more prosperity than sorrow. May this be the year that Ian sees deliverance.

Larissa