Missing Chicago

Ezra is standing in his crib, his crazy hair darting in every direction, looking at me with his huge one-toothed grin, laughing every time I look at him. Keziah and Elias are in the other room making snowflakes. They come in every few minutes to have me fold the bright green paper they are using, as well as to show me their finished flakes, laden with holes and holding in their folds the mystery of symmetric circles and triangles and squares. Christmas is in the air, as the red lights continue to glow on our tree and more and more presents pile in its lap. Mary and Joseph and Jesus sit there too, dressed in porcelain and donning bright childlike colors, trying hard to remind us that this season is so far beyond our fascinating traditions.

My sister just returned from her job at Starbucks with a "sorority drink" just for me. It's a sugar-free vanilla non-fat decaf latte. Elias has drank about half of it already. I'm trying hard to think on all that is good in this moment. I have found myself sad today, realizing for the first time that a chapter of our lives has truly ended. I have thought today of all the wonderful things of Chicago. More than that, I have ached for some of our "family" there, particularly our community where we were living. Just the other night, we sat in Mike and Ronda's kitchen, sipping drinks and teaching them how to play Euchre, a Mid-west card game. We laughed at ourselves and each other, as our conversation took many twists and turns. Our kids played in the other room, soaking in each other's presence, pretending to be dogs and moms and bad guys, acting as though they had never missed a beat with one another.

And it was just last weekend that Brenton and Amber threw us a going away party at the building where we were living. So many dear friends came to say goodbye. The playroom was filled with crazy three year-olds, all screaming and laughing and running while all of the parents stood in the other room, laughing and conversing, not distracted in the least by the chaos of little ones that we have all learned to ignore for the sake of having adult interaction. It seems like it was just yesterday that we all sat in the backyard talking at the picnic table, discussing our plans for the future, questioning what God was doing in each other's life, wondering how long we would live in this community...not knowing that those few moments were a glimpse into eternity and that it was indeed a season that will not be given back, not with those particular people and those particular children. Not in that particular city or in that particular building. Yes, the chapter has ended. And until now, I haven't mourned the end of so many life-changing events.

I could even taste the winters there today. And for the first time, I didn't have disdain in my mouth when I thought of cold, windy, dirty Chicago. Instead, I thought of the windows at Macy's and hot chocolate at Amber's...of Elias and my walks in the snow and how good the heat feels when we walked up all the stairs into our apartment. I thought of the man on Logan Boulevard whose house looks like it belongs in Whoville with all its lights and Santas and reindeer in its front lawn. I'm thinking of how we got out of the car last year on a night like tonight just to walk around the house.

I don't have any regrets, not about our time there or about the decision to leave. I'm thankful for that three-year season of life. I'm glad we experienced the zoo, the museums, the bathroom of the John Hancock Building (it has the best view of Chicago), tapings of Oprah, incredible Thai restaurants, the "L" (the subway), Ikea, the parks, the public pools, Elias' preschool, the beach, Dunkin Donuts, Michigan Avenue, and El Cid (our favorite Mexican restaurant). I'm glad I know the woman who works at Dominick's Grocery late at night and that I know she is a breast cancer survivor. I'm happy that the lady at Seven Eleven asks about my baby, as she saw me throughout my pregnancy and the day after Ezra was born. And I smile when I think of the ladies at Foodsmart and how I got to practice my Spanish every morning as I purchased a Diet Coke or an iced coffee from the cooler. And I sigh when I think of all the moms I met at Elias and Keziah's gymnastics class and how I never followed through in pursuing them but how we had such wonderful conversations when we saw one another.

So now I am sitting on my parent's big red couch listening to Thomas read "The Night Before Christmas" to the kids. My imagination just messed with me as I thought that the rain that just began pouring outside was the train going by our house in Chicago. It's another Christmas. I'm learning that the embroidered sign I used to see at my friend's house when I was little, the one that read "Home is where the heart is," wasn't so cheezy after all. And it certainly isn't far from the truth. It is my hope that even though I feel displaced and unorganized this season, that we will pull together as a family and enjoy one another's laughter and the fact that Jesus has given us one another, that He truly "sets the lonely in families," as the Proverb says.

Diet Coke, Sermons, Mallhopping and a Crazy Lady

Click on the picture to see us even bigger!

I find it ironic that I'm sitting here listening to a podcast sermon on "My Body and Sustainable Living" while eating potato chips and drinking a Diet Coke. Yikes, and I should probably mention, for the sake of my confession to the internet, that it's 12:22 a.m. There. I feel better. Dang, these kettle-cooked potato chips are good.

I'm trying to get out Christmas letters/pictures and I'm finding it to be such a process. Our addresses are in Chicago and my old database is somewhere in cyberspace. So for the sake of all people who may not end up receiving a picture, I'm going to post it here.

Indianapolis continues to have its perks. We have grown accustomed to "mall hopping" as a form of entertaining our children. The malls around here all have these little play areas, so we let the kids run around and do a little window shopping ourselves. Other than that there is the Children's Museum where we have already been four times. Every night, right before Keziah falls asleep she asks to either go to the zoo "in the morning" or to "go camping."

Thomas is now in physical therapy twice a week. He is doing great. His depression has subsided quite a bit. As for our future, we are in the process of looking for jobs, housing, and oh yah, a rental truck (do you know anyone with one?). We'll be moving our stuff from Chicago to somewhere in Indy next weekend and then we will be going to training with Avant in January. On a good day, I know Jesus is going to take care of our needs and am excited to see how it will all unfold...almost like my son when he thinks about Christmas morning, opening up what he hopes will be Megatron, Optimus Prime and Bumblebee (those are all Transformers). But on a bad day, I get down and start frantically trying to make things work on a practical level. The problem is that God typically supercedes my practicality and ends up answering those prayers that Thomas assures me he is waiting on Him to answer. Thomas is much better at the "waiting" than I am. I'm learning though, that to move forward as the stubborn and strong-willed one, without Thomas having peace about the decision, is a mistake. It only took working for a 70 year-old crazy woman for a year and a half to realize this. Let me explain...

Thomas knew it wasn't a good idea to move into that apartment to manage the building. But I saw the practicality of living in a bigger apartment and having a nice backyard for the kids to run in. The woman we worked for was controlling, manipulative, and dishonest. She would come in our apartment while we were gone. She was downright mean to her tenants and at one point, we found a man dead in his apartment and called her. This about sums up her insanity: Because she didn't follow the building codes correctly and couldn't get to the building to fix them before the coroner came, she said, "I think you should just go to bed and call the coroner in the morning." What in Sam's name? We obviously didn't listen to that advice. The fire department came, pronouncing poor Lester dead of natural causes. She was one of those ladies who I wouldn't put anything past. I think perhaps she had multiple personalities. Or dimentia. hrm.

Well, I'm done rambling. My Diet Coke is gone and I've eaten one too many potato chips and listened to one to many sermons...to the point that they are all sounding the same.

Ciao.

Insomnia, Avant, a death, and a widow.

It's 6:00 a.m., and I have been up for an hour and a half all because I can't sleep. Usually I would be enjoying the slumber that comes so easy these days, my head buried in a pillow, pretending I don't have one of my children's feet in my face and another one's faint cry in my ear. But right now, I'm willingly awake without the sound, smell, or touch of children. I should do this more often.

I thought you may like to hear the news that we got accepted with Avant (www.avantministries.org click on "avant info" to see the video about what we will be doing). I'm excited that we know one thing for sure right now. Because we certainly don't know much else (can I use those words together?). So the plan is that we will go to Italy in 2009 and that we will be living in Indianapolis until then.

On a sad note, Thomas' cousin passed away a few days ago. She was only 39 and left behind three kids, the youngest which is 14. Rhonda had cancer that she thought until recently was in remission. I keep thinking about her kids and how hard this must be. They will all be going to separate states with different relatives. Today is the memorial service and Thomas was asked to do the service. He is honored yet nervous.

I've had a lot on my mind this morning. I have been in prayer for those kids and for Thomas' family, for our friends in Italy, for a woman named Polly who I received an e-mail about last night. Polly lives in Israel and is a widow and mother of some orphaned children. She loves Jesus. An anti-missionary group there decided to have a (court approved) protest in front of her house because she has "proselytized" children (she told them about Jesus, even though the only evidence of this is from a child of a Jewish family who became a Christian because he was friends with her children a long time ago). So this poor woman had 250 protesters in front of her house outraged at her because she loves God. I can't imagine how painful it would be to be intentionally hated by so many people.

Well, I will go for now. Hope this find you doing well. I'll leave you with some pictures of our kids.

-Cristi

A New Day by Thomas

Here we sit together on Saturday morning as the kids are begging to put up a Christmas tree... and they're wanting candy canes to munch on. "We picked up our toys! Please," they are saying. We went downtown last night to see the beloved Indianapolis Circle Monument artificial Christmas tree. Lights streamed from the ground to the top of the statue a few hundred feet into the air. The lights were beautiful but it was incredibly too cold for my hands, so we quickly moved indoors to the Circle Center Mall where the crowds weren't actually too bad. The kids really love lights and all the decorations that come with these weeks that center around Jesus' birthday. Last night Cristi asked the significance of Christmas; Elias cried out it's "Jesus' Birthday!". Then he exclaimed I love Jesus! Sometimes I wonder what effects we have had on our children when it comes to our faith tradition. But when we heard that Elias loves Jesus it made my heart glad... it's more Jesus getting through to him than my feeble ways of sharing Christ with my children that I m sure of.
The air is crisp and dry the leaves are still falling to the ground...there is the smell of logs burning at nighttime, and I just love the smell of a fireplace. It reminds me of how the holidays should be spent. Thanksgiving was extra special this year. "I Am Alive!" This was one of the thankful things we shared around the table this year. We each shared things that we were thankful for and we went around more than a few times. Cristi's grandma, who we call "GeeGee," said she was thankful that we have gone around this many times and are so grateful. This has been sort of a tradition with this special day and I hope that it does have lasting effects on our children, I don't know what we would do if we didn't have family. My parents live about 20 minutes from Cristi's parents so it's perfect that we eat at Cristi's and go to my parents for dessert, which this year was cherry cheesecake. I gave up pumkin pie and it was well worth it...besides I had all the other pies the next day. Turkey stuffing gravy sandwiches are my personal favorite, as I sat yesterday feeding Ezra Cash the leftovers. He likes food like I do and I couldn't shovel it in fast enough. He would start crying and then I would get the spoon to his lip as it quivered...he would take a bite and it would start all over again.
Cristi and I actually have had alot of time together due to this accident, and being around family has given us time for date; yesterday we were able to get away and walk together, sit and talk and hold hands. I love my wife and am so thankful for her through this whole ordeal, I don't know where i would be with out her? Jesus gave me a good wife, he also gave me good friends that love me and care for me, they pray for me just like I pray for them and thats what keeps us together holding tightly as we Journey this walk of life. Allen and Annie came tho see us this week too, and it was so good to connect with our dear friends from Chicago we do miss the windy city, but feel God is doing something here with us.
I pray for you all who read this that you may know Christ Jesus, and become familar with and aspect of his suffering; not that I wish ill for you, but that you might be set free to love as Christ loves, and loved you when you were yet sinners he died for you. And he did not stay in the grave but has risen indeed, that you too may have the newness of life, Christ said just as the Father has life within himself, so to the Son has life within himself and can raise the dead to whom he chooses. I pray that you might be chosen to have new life put in you, to be raised from death to life. May I too choose life today and not death!
May you be richly blessed, I love you
Thomas

Hi It's me Thomas

So I had my first physical therepy session and my hands are sore, but the she was very kind and meassured my hands for pressure garments. This will help with the scaring which may take up to a year to return to a normal color, my skin is very bright purplish red with a harsh line where my non-burnt skin is. I guess this gives me another good reason to get sleeve tatoo's or at least past the lines anyway.
I still can't believe all the cards and e-mails I have receievd the support that I feel from all of you, is helping in this difficult time of my life where my hands don't quite feel like they are mine. My face is healed completely with only a little discolorization, but some one meeting me on the street problebly would notice anything different. The gloves I am wearing would bring more attention to me than anything else. I have not started any art since before October 16, the day of the accident I have tried to scetch but to no use there isn't anything there, which is odd for me I have been given a over active imagination since my birth. But pyscologically this has been the most tramatic event in my life, although I still believe this to be the will of God for my life walking out his will is the rub; how do I pick up the pieces of who I am in this experience of my "new birth expierence". We talk and sing of the "Refiner's Fire" of our God, but no one really wants to go through it, or at least I don't really want to, I just want the end result of it! To be holy and obediant to our Lord and Savior Jesus and His Father our God. But the Holy Spirit brings us to places like Jesus walked, the wilderness after the Baptism. For those of you you experienced Jesus working in me at the hospital, I believe that something was happening both in me and through me in those early days especially. Ask some of those who gave time to come and see me, Allen and Annie, Mike, Arron and Jessica, Curt, Tim, Tom and his wife Sue, John, Brian, Bill, and many others. But days past and a deep depression came over me and I had thoughts of going home to Jesus, Curt and Tim sang Keith Green songs. It was beautiful, but I had no voice to sing myself though I had desire to even in the darkness and hollowness of heart that I was in. There was a day that Arron came and sat with me and I didn't really talk, but it meant so much to just be sat with. Eric wiped my bum more than once in his visit and treated me so very kind he will be a great Phd. theologian, because of his gentleness keeps his head nearer to his heart. This whole thing has shown me far to much for me to process, I deeply need all of you in my life, I really mean this!
May God richly bless you all.

skin grafts, pyschiatrists, and cousins

An update on Thomas Sh'mot...

Went to the Dr. on Monday and saw the Plastic Surgeon...the guy who has the last say in whether or not T will need skin grafts. Can I just say, before I go into detail about that, how nice everyone is at this burn unit...and how unbelievably amazing the unit is? Having experienced Cook County...with all you would expect from a County Hospital in the heart of Chicago...I was astonished by the friendliness of all the nurses and the home-like atmosphere that this unit extended to us. After all, in a perfect world, not one like Chicago, we are technically the paying customers and deserve some sort of non third-worldness. I sound like I'm complaining...and well, I am. But I truly have nothing to complain about, for God's redemption was present in those last couple of days in the County Hospital, as we had wonderful treatment from very kind nurses and doctors, and even had the opportunity to pray with and for a couple of the Christian nurses.

Previous to those last two days, I had a certain dread as I entered the unit, the smell of fresh urine on the waiting room carpet colliding with the scent of sterile sheets and towels and gowns. One afternoon I walked in and for the first time in several days, I laid next to my husband in his little orthopedic bed, complete with plastic lining and some sort of deflated air mattress topper. I breathed deep and for the first time in over a week, I felt my body relax, for at home I would fall into bed, thinking about Thomas laying alone in the hospital and my baby sleeping in someone else's apartment. My eyes would close before I could even contemplate being all alone in our apartment where we have spent the last eight months sleeping five of us in one bedroom. And on the other nights that I spent at the hospital in that vinyl recliner that would sit me upright any time I moved an inch, I would not sleep well because of the beeping monitor above my head and because of my husband who would wake up needing to use the bathroom or needing more pain medicine every hour or so.

Well, I was laying there in the bed slowly falling asleep when the little Indian woman who was assigned as Thomas' psychiatrist, walked in. I got out of the bed, trying to look awake, and took a seat back in my designated recliner. I tried to be friendly, as I wanted her to see us as normal as possible, considering she had seen Thomas at his worst when interviewing him on drugs (probably should be sure to mention it was morphine). She said to me, in a voice I can't put words to but that I can assure you annoyed the crap out of me (as it was in a sort of passive aggressive, joking but not joking kind of way), "And you shouldn't be in the bed with him because he is the patient and you are the visitor." I agreed with her, again wanting her to think we weren't crazy and in need of whatever diagnosis she would surely label Thomas with, given that week previous. But she wouldn't stop. She probably repeated that statement another three times, perhaps some technique she learned in a doctorate level class. Each time, I nodded in agreement, signaling my understanding of her statement. On one point I thought maybe she wasn't picking up on my nodding and so I finally said, "Yes, I understand," a statement that my son uses when he disobeys and knows I need to know he is listening to me. I guess my verbal cue appeased her and so she let up and moved along to some other questions and responses that left Thomas and I feeling misunderstood.

But like I said, I shouldn't complain. However, in the name of not complaining, Psychiatrist lady made for a good story and perhaps that is redemption in and of itself.

So the story with Thomas is that he will most likely NOT need skin grafts! Hooray! His hands are healing everyday. The pain is less and less. He still has a long way to go, but the progress looks really good. We are continuing to be blessed by the amazing encouragement of friends like you and we can't tell you enough how astounded we are by the comfort of the Holy Spirit by the friends and family in our lives.

On another note, our brother-in-law and nephew who live in China, flew in for the week and it has been so great for Elias to have his cousin here to play with. They LOVE each other and are having so much fun! It's yet another sign to me that this was God's will in this time of our lives.

With care and love,
Cristi

Blue and White Crocs...that pretty much sums it up.

Perhaps my senses are heightened to the average Midwest customs, considering we have lived in a big city that boasts of its fancy cars, skyscrapers, model agencies, movie sets, gay parades, and neighborhoods that are home to every ethnicity under the sun. Today while I was in Meijer I couldn't help but notice how incredibly white everyone was. And I couldn't help but also notice the amount of blue and white strewn across these peoples' bodies, as they donned their Colts sweatshirts, T-shirts, and my favorite, the "Manning" jersey. Yesterday I even stumbled across blue and white "Colts" Crocs at the mall, while the superbowl game played on a plasma screen in the background. And this isn't to mention the number of mullets I have seen and the fact that everyone here has a strange accent. Nor have I mentioned until now the fact that I have to drive seven miles to get anywhere. This, when I'm used to walking to my bank, to my Foodsmart, to my Post Office...to my favorite little Chinese restaurant in Chicago. It begs the question: "Is this where I grew up?" Why didn't I notice these seemingly strange phenomenons for the first 18 years of my life?

And then there is the beauty of this place. I breathe deeper here. And when I walk out the door in the morning, the smell of Fall engulfs my nostrils and makes me clear-headed for a second. The colors are brilliant and the sky is bigger...much bigger than in Chicago. I can drive and see nothing but road. And when I'm home, at my parent's house that is, I have the beautiful opportunity to lose my kids in the bigness of this house. We aren't piled on top of one another, hearing the sounds of chewing, breathing, showering and sleeping (along with other things I will not mention here) all in the same moment...and going outside doesn't require packing a bag, carrying a baby on one hip and a toddler on another, trucking down four flights of stairs all to see the light of day and breathe in the polluted air. Instead, the E and K are running around the yard with the neighbor kids, riding on the lawnmower with my dad, and raking leaves into a big pile and jumping in them, covering their bodies with that fall smell that not even Yankee Candle has been able to bottle yet.

Just as this place is slower paced, so has Thomas' healing become. There was a drastic change that took place in those first ten days (see pictures), but now it seems to have slowed down and the Burn Specialist we saw on Wednesday said he may need some skin grafts yet. There are two places on the tops of his hands that aren't healing. The burn doctors like to see evidence of skin renewal within two weeks. Thomas has hit the two week mark and those places are still looking pretty raw. He isn't worried about it and we'll find out more on Monday. In the meantime, the Insurance company is breathing down our backs, making us give a report immediately upon every Doctor's visit...not because they care about Thomas' well-being, but because this is their job...to make sure they don't have to pay a penny more than need be.

We had some really sweet friends visit us tonight. They drove all the way from Chicagoland just to have dinner with us. I feel very blessed when I think of all the people that truly care about our well-being. And I know that we couldn't have made it through these past two weeks without all your prayers and words and visits. God has used this time to mend many relationships that were a bit broken. I am amazed at all the good that has come from this terrible event. We are still in prayer and feel as if we are in the next waiting room of life upon making the decision whether or not to move back here. As for now, we know we are staying through November. We feel like our time at the building where we were living and working is up and that it's time to move on. But that is truly all we know at this point. We have applied with Avant and they are awaiting some logistical details in order to fully process our applications. Given we are accepted, we will have team training in January in Kansas City and then we will begin support-raising to go to Torino, Italy in 2009. It's going to be a long and interesting road I'm sure.

Well, blessed night to you. Hope all is well on your end. Thank you for letting me share our life with you...

Cristi

Thomas Recovering-

These are a few pics from the hospital. Everyday Thomas is looking more like himself. Continue to keep him in your prayers. Thank you for praying for us.







Day 2





Day 4






Day 6






Day 8




Day 10

Settling. What does that mean anyway?

Elias and I laid in bed tonight and he grabbed my face in his little hands, as he does every so often, and said, "I love you so much. I missed you." Then he went on to tell me how when they were pulling away from Chicago just over a week ago, he thought maybe he could be a superhero and fly out of the van and back to us. I can tell he's so torn between being here and being in Chicago. Tonight he told me he was sad and missed his friends in Chicago...specifically Noah, Gabby and Elijah, who are like cousins to him. It's hard to get into a five year-old's brain and process with him all that he is feeling. Especially since my surroundings were familiar to me from the time I was born until the time I graduated from high school. It won't be so with my kids. And i keep taking solace in how God made Thomas and I the way we are for a reason and how He placed our children in our care for a reason.

We celebrated Thomas' homecoming on Saturday, his birthday yesterday and today we are unpacking a small portion of our belongings and trying to make this home for now. Thomas is continuing to heal and we are both looking back at the past couple weeks with a sigh of relief for that part of this ordeal being over. Thomas shared with me how there were a couple of days where he was so depressed that he didn't see how anything would get any better. I had the same feelings at various times, usually with the various medications he was taking. But I knew that it was my turn to be the strong one and so it was in those moments of Thomas' raw vulnerability that I embraced him and whispered that everything was okay....that it would be okay... and that we were going to make it through all of it together. We read Scripture and praised God, even though our emotions were leading us into self-pity.

Again, I'm amazed by all of you who have responded to our needs. Can't tell you how good it feels to be surrounded by people who genuinely love us.

For us,
Cristi

Another chapter ends, a new one begins...

Sitting here with Thomas on OUR COUCH in OUR LIVING ROOM! Hooray! He is out of the hospital. After begging and pleading today, he was released back into the world of fresh air and unsanitized towels and sheets...a world where people don't have to put on a gown, a mask and gloves just to be in the same room with him.

I have to say that yesterday seemed like a miracle to me when I walked into the hospital room and found Thomas sitting up and eating, answering my questions in a non-lethargic way. The day before he was so sedated and while it was nothing compared to the paranoia and hallucinations that had occurred while taking Percocet the night before, it was sad to have the day go by without seeing Thomas smile or laugh. I missed him this past week. A week that has felt like at least a month.

Thomas is doing so great and I can't help but know down to the very deepest crevices of my heart that all of our prayers were heard by the Father. He has healed so remarkably and his face and arms look better everyday. We are praying for no infections, as I'm the one now responsible for the dressing changes. And we are praying about the next steps in life. Do we stay in Chicago or move to Indy? We will hopefully be going to training for the mission organization "Avant" in January, and right now that's all we know. I keep having whispers of that passage in John (I think) that talks about the Spirit...how it is like the wind and we don't know where it came from or where it is going. That's kind of how I feel right now. We don't know where we'll be in a month, but right now that isn't really bothering me. All I know is that I'm so glad Thomas is alive and is my best friend and husband and the father of our three children. I'm so glad that we get to make more memories at parks, in the car driving...taking walks late at night or meandering at target, scanning the clearance racks for stuff we don't need. Gosh I love him.

Well, to all of you who are reading this, I pray that the Lord bless you and keep you (of course He wil!) and that His face will be caused to shine upon you.

Day nine...

I'm at home right now...just woke up from a nap and am about ready to go back to the hospital. Thomas has been depressed today. I think it is the pain mediciine, but it really has him sedated and feeling sad. It was not easy to leave him there. I'm just ready for this all to be over. There's so much to be grateful for and I guess I need to thank about those things. Thomas' arms are looking better and better and his face...you wouldn't even know that this only happened a week ago. It looks great. Hope you all are doing well. Thanks for all you are doing.

Not-so-yucky day

Hey friends...

i'm sitting here with ezra cash, missing my other babies like crazy but knowing that my mom and dad's house is a much better place for them this week. I feel so out of sorts without a thousand and one things to do....without three little people screaming in my two ears... Elias missed his first field trip today. He'll miss his first picture day tomorrow. Everyone keeps saying "It's just preschool." But it still makes me sad. He was loving it. I know that God is sovereign, even in dealing with how this all affects our kids. They had been begging to go to "momaw and papa's house" for a long time.

Today was bittersweet day, as it started chaotic with a frantic phonecall from Thomas, needing me there right away. But when I got there, he was asleep and I had time to read Scripture and pray. We had a visitor...a friend of a friend, who brought peace with him. "Blessed are the peacemakers....for they shall see God" (I am hoping that I'm not butchering that beatitute). He was a peacemaker, and stood between the gap of the medical realm and the fear and pain of having someone you love hurt.

Thomas is now on the right pain medicine and looks so much better today! His face is almost back to normal. His hands and arms are still in a lot of pain, but are healing great. I know God has heard all of our prayers. When I think about what could have been...I'm amazed.

I'll be putting up some pics later tonight...that is, if i have time.

Love,
Cristi

Yucky day...

Hey friends. Today was a bad day for Thomas, as they took him off the drip and tried some pain meds that weren't working well for him mentally. I am laying in bed at 12:30 a.m. after a long day at the hospital. I'll get up early and start all over. Tomorrow our friend Aaron's Doctor friend will come to the hospital and perhaps be our advocate. Cook County Hosptial is not known to be the friendliest of places nor is it the best managed. Therefore, we have had our trials when it comes to getting straight answers about Thomas' healing process, pain stabilization and so on. We need prayer. I feel beat up, but that is nothing in comparison to what Thomas is going through. Please pray for him to have a compassionate nurse tomorrow and that we will find the right meds to manage his pain. Please pray that we will get real answers and that God's peace will surround us, specifically Thomas, as he sleeps. Thanks for all of your thoughts and prayers.

Thomas' Accident- Update 1

Welcome to Thomas and Cristi's Blog-
As a favor to Thomas and Cristi, and as a way to update you all regarding Thomas' accident, we his friends have put up a blog to inform you on his progress, as well as on some ways you may support the McEwens through this difficult time. Please feel free to leave encouraging messages, prayers and notes. Also, if you are able, another great way to help the family is through financial support. To make donations, use the PayPal link on this site. Please continue to pray for Thomas as he is in a lot of pain and pray for the McEwen family through this part of their journey.
Below is Cristi's first update.
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Dear Friends and Family,

Some of you may not know, but Thomas was in an accident at the building where we live last Wednesday. He is the maintenence person here and was lighting the furnace/boiler and the flame mixed with old gases in the boiler, causing an explosion or a "flash fire" in his face and on his arms. By God's grace, he shielded his eyes and he can still see just fine. It was a very traumatic scene, as he quickly shut the gas off, managed to let himself out of two doors with burning hands (he was NOT on fire, praise God). I had just gotten home and had seen him about two minutes prior to hearing the screaming. I thought it was school-kids across the street at first, but soon understood it was my husband in a lot pain. I ran out to him, saw his arms, hands, face, and hair and understood what was happening. He was in so much pain. Soon after, many people called 911 and the ambulance was pretty quick in responding. We live in a Christian community, and so about half of the building was out on the sidewalk praying for him while we waited for the ambulance and I heard stories of people praying all day and night together after he left.

Upon arriving at the trauma unit at the Cook County Hospital, and after a lot of pain med injections, we got a report from the Burn Doctor saying that she thought he was going to be "just fine." I questioned what "just fine" meant (alive, minor scarring, major scarring, skin grafts???) She said, "He probably won't even scar." We all in the room felt as if we had witnessed a miracle, for if you saw him when it happened, skin hanging from his body, hair and beard charred beyond belief, skin pussing and bleeding... I really believe that Jesus heard all the prayers and answered them. A wave of relief washed over me, for at this point I was just thankful that he was alive and breathing well. I kept telling him it didn't matter what happened, that we were in it together. God's supernatural peace came over me even when it first happened, and I kept thinking "in sickness and in health..." So to hear that his face wasn't going to even be affected when it was all said and done, I couldn't believe it.

As for now, Thomas is in a lot of pain. He's on a morphine drip and so it's helping a ton. This morning he was crying because he woke up in pain, having not pressed his drip through the night. But all in all, his spirits are high and his attitude amazing. He is talking with visitors and nurses and is communicating how grateful he is for all of the help and prayers we have received. He keeps saying that He feels so close to Jesus, like God has been right there with Him, talking to Him in the midst of the pain. He has made so much progress since Wednesday and they might even release him this week. His hands and arms will take the most time healing and so we would love your continued prayer. We are unsure as to what the next step will look like, but we may be moving to Indianapolis to my parents' house for a couple of months, until we can be more functional. As most of you know, we live in a tiny apartment up three flights of stairs in the city of Chicago. While we LOVE city life, I don't know how well this situation will mesh with our living situation, given that we also have three small children who are very needy 24/7. So please pray as we make those decisions.

Your phone calls, e-mails, visits, prayers, meals, talks, kind words, help with kids, and comforting presence are invaluabe to our family. We will forever remember this milestone in our journey as a family and how the Body of Christ responded so amazing to our obvious needs. We are humbled and feel so loved. Thank You for your continued support.

Love you all,

Cristi