Grace and peace, Saints!
Yesterday I realized it has been over two years since I suffered a potentially fatal stroke, in January 2016. This was actually the second stroke I suffered, the first being just two months prior in November 2015. The fact that I survived two strokes is a miracle in and of itself; but, given the second stroke was a hemorrhagic stroke, that I am writing about it today is a miracle of epic proportions: for me, that is.
For those of you who may not know, a hemorrhagic stroke is one in which arteries or blood vessels in the brain bleed or rupture. Hemorrhagic strokes are especially deadly because the loss of blood supply and accumulation of blood on and surrounding the brain leads to the death of brain tissue and brain tissue damage. The stroke I suffered was pretty bad, and the bleeding on my brain was quite severe: so severe, in fact, that the chief surgeon of the stroke unit at the hospital where I was treated was amazed my appearance and the functionality I retained, for my brain scan told a different story.
The survival rate for a hemorrhagic stroke is 27% (about 1 in 4), and of those who die, most do so within days or weeks of the event. Some, however, have died as late as six months to a year later, making it difficult to know when a person is really out of danger. And, because many people who suffer a hemorrhagic stroke often suffer a second, I watched the calendar pretty closely for about eighteen months. But, realizing this was both counterproductive and a hindrance to enjoying whatever time I had left, I decided to shift my focus to taking care of myself and doing all I could to prevent another stroke. So, I made some lifestyle adjustments, which included regular exercise, eating sensibly, and managing stress; and I managed to lower my blood pressure, lose excess weight, and improve my overall physical, mental, and emotional well-being. Now, more than two years later, I am healthier than I have been in over twenty five years.
At this point, it is important for me to mention that not only does hemorrhagic stroke have a high mortality rate, but less than 10% of survivors make a full recovery. I’m not yet 100%, but I wasn’t 100% before the stroke either. My counselor at the rehabilitation center told me I should look at my recovery in terms of years rather than months, and this is what I do. And because I’m doing everything I was doing before the stroke and more, I’m claiming my healing and giving the Lord Jesus all the glory.
My health-aversary is important to me because, two years ago, the future was very uncertain. When I was in the hospital recovering from the first stroke, I remember wondering if I would ever again go for walks with my then two-year-old daughter, or ride my bike, as I had suffered partial loss of sight in one eye. I remember sitting in the hospital emergency waiting room and not being able to see any of the people seated on one side of the room, and what I could see was hazy. I recall thinking that the magazine I was reading to distract myself could quite possibly be the last thing I would ever read. I even got angry with myself because I had never experimented with the speech-to-text software on my laptop. When I was in the hospital being treated for the second stroke, I wondered if I would ever again go for runs with my children, or play basketball with my young son. As the Lord Jesus would have it, I took several walks with my daughter in 2016 and 2017, and, two years later, I have both run and biked with my children and now work out several times a week with my son. In fact, I am healthier now and in better shape than I have been in the previous twenty-five years.
By showing me that under the circumstances, I am doing very well, the Lord Jesus is reminding me just how blessed I am to even be alive–let alone thriving–and that I have come incredibly far in the last couple of years, which is very important, because the last twelve months have been very difficult for me and my children. In May of last year, my son and I relocated to America, leaving my wife and daughters in Munich, Germany. If you have been following this blog for any appreciable length of time, then you know that my witness for Jesus has come at a price, and my family has suffered much. Leaving half my family in Germany was not a decision I wanted to make, but it was necessary, under the circumstances, especially if I were to make a complete recovery. Leaving my teenagers was bad enough, but leaving my four-year-old behind at a time when she really needed her father was really hard. Her personality was just starting to form, and she and I were really enjoying spending time together. I miss going to the playground with her and playing in the sandbox, and, afterwards, running around in the subway station with her and catching the elevator up and down. We used to have so much fun going shopping together, as this was when I would teach her about the world and probe her mind as she talked endlessly about any and every thing that crossed her mind. I miss her coming into my office when I would be writing or doing research, and asking me to play gospel music for her on my laptop, after which she would pull her little table up next to my desk and ask for a pencil and paper so she could draw.
While I don’t regret my decision to leave (my recovery depended on it, to say nothing of my ministry and Christian testimony), hearing my little girl tell me on the phone, “You forgot about me,” made me very sad. So I had really been down, since leaving Munich, and this is the principle reason I have done very little writing over the last year. It was not until the other day–and again just a couple of hours ago–when the Lord Jesus reminded me just how fortunate I am, that I decided to stop feeling sorry for myself, and remember that the Bible tells us to be thankful for all things. I understand and know that despite all that has happened, the Lord has been very good to me and my children. All things considered, we are alive and in relatively good health, and this is of no small importance.
Besides the disposition of our eternal soul, there is nothing more important than our health. Satan is a master of diversion, and he is pretty good at diverting our attention from how blessed we really are to how bad things appear to be. He knows it can be hard to praise God and be grateful for what we have when we’re going through a difficult time, so he gives us as difficult a time as he can. But God is good all the time, and He has promised never to put more on us than we can handle. No matter how bad things get, they will always get better, if only for a time, as highs and lows and peaks and valleys are all a part of the job description.
As I told my son today, as long as we can put one foot in front of the other, we can talk about ourselves using the future tense, and all things are possible. But, once we give up the ghost, people can only talk about us in the past tense, and nothing at all is possible. So, take care of yourself!
“And we know that all things work for good to them that love God, to them that are the called according to His purpose” (Romans 8:28).
Be encouraged and look up, for your redemption draweth nigh.
TSM
