Sept. 8th: The Day

Despite the name of our blog, I rarely write about our business. No real reason why, maybe just knowing that most of you stop by to see the kids and their antics. Maybe because when you own and run your own business, it nearly engulfs you. Not that it doesn't have its perks, but even the perks don't outweigh that you can't clock out at the end of the day, enjoy paid vacations, earn sick time, etc. All the benefits of a regular job. Basically, its your life...day in and day out and every moment in between. And anyone reading this who has or is experiencing this knows exactly what I'm talking about. Otherwise, you have NO idea. So giving it even more of my time on my blog defeats the sometime-desire for escape. But something occurred at the job site on Monday, September 8th that nearly changed all our lives. And it definitely warrants posting (albeit massively edited for reading & writing purposes).

Up a mountain, in the woods, through a cornfield, and at the end of this gravel road:

sits a water tank, pictured here:


and just to the right of this tank is a manhole in the ground:


where Daryl nearly lost his life.


Overcome by carbon monoxide, he has no idea how he climbed eight feet up this rusted ladder and onto the ground above where the two men working with him apparently found him stiff, pupils dilated, and unresponsive.


His last memory was feeling the need to sleep while down in the hole and his next memory is of barely crawling along the grass thinking that if he stopped moving he would pass out....which he did. Almost eternally. His memories of that evening are few. He talks of knowing somewhere in the recesses of his mind that he may very well die--so he prayed for me and our kids and asked the Lord that if it was indeed his time, to be with him. Daryl was ready, but the Lord said, "not yet". And for that I am so thankful. Who knew that celebrating our 6th wedding anniversary the previous evening could very well have been our last?

The Lord has work for Daryl (and me and our family) to accomplish on Earth. Obviously. In the words of the Psalmist, what is man that the Lord should be mindful of him? I read those words, along with the rest of Psalm 8, to Daryl as he received his hyperbaric treatments. I could not read them without crying. Because by all medical standpoints, Daryl should be dead. The levels of carbon monoxide in his blood in such a short amount of time should have killed him. Or at least with some type of impairment. But the medical staff said Daryl had a few things going for him such as his age, his great health, and good response to treatment. But I knew what he had going for him most importantly: the prayers of so many, especially from a four and two year old. The kids and I were sitting down to dinner at the time Daryl was descending the rusty ladder into the hole. Brayden and Savannah were each saying the blessing for our meal and each of them prayed (as we always do) for the Lord to keep His angels around Daryl as he worked, to keep him safe. I like to think that at the moment Daryl was thinking of leaving us to enter Heaven the simple, yet sincere and heart-felt, prayers of two small children intersected his path. And I like to think that our Heavenly Father saw that these two little ones (and their little sister and I)still needed their earthly father for a bit longer. And I know that He sent his angels to bring Daryl out of that hole. And to respond so well to treatment from the EMT's and hospital staff--regardless of age or of health. And to have no side effects whatsoever. And leave everyone in the medical field shaking their heads while we in the faith field were dropping to our knees in gratitude and awe.

I cannot even begin to describe the emotions of the ordeal. The closet thing I could come up with is a blending of college finals with bringing home a newborn. Mental, physical, emotional roller coaster. Times one hundred. Or more. And for all the times of any given day that I tell Daryl I love him, what a great man he is, and how thankful and blessed I am because of him--well, you can times that by one hundred too. Or more. Every time I looked at him in the twenty four hours following I would tear up. And hug him. And kiss him. And tell him for the bazillionth time how much I love him, what a great man he is, and how thankful and blessed I am because of him. And I can honestly say that I am still doing just that...just as I always did but with even MORE fervor because I had a mere few moments to truly ponder what my life may be without him, not to mention our kids lives, my in-laws lives, our friends lives, our families' lives, etc. (Okay, so I had a three hour drive to think on this!)

I am acutely aware of the gift that the Lord has given me, our kids, our families by returning Daryl to us. And no amount of words or tears will ever express all that I feel surrounding it. There are so many blessings of that day--so many small details of the story that can't be explained or even fully grasped by our finite minds, so many "what-ifs"--that point only to God's hand at work. And three things really struck me in the ensuing days: (1) how thankful I am that if the Lord had decided to take him that day, Daryl would have gone knowing how much I love and adore him, (2) that I had already in the few months preceding had my "Abraham & Isaac moment" when it came to Daryl and our kids--the moment when I had to place them on the rock and cry out, Lord, they're yours. Not mine. And if it be Your will to take them from me, so be it. The Lord knows my heart. He knows that my greatest fear would be to lose my husband or one of my kids. He knows that I love my husband and kids with such an immense and intense love that it often moves me to tears for no reason other than how very blessed I am because of God's gift of Daryl and our kids to me. But He knows that the only thing greater than my love for them is my love for Him. And most thankfully it didn't take a life-altering event to know it or show it, and,(3) that with either outcome I know in my heart and can proclaim with my lips the words of Job, the Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away. Blessed be the name of the Lord!

My prayer and hope for you reading this is just that: don't let it take a life altering event to make what's wrong right, to bring you to your knees, to give to the Lord what is His. Whether it be your spouse, your kids, your job, your relationship with the Lord, your unfulfilled or even shattered dreams, your relationships with those near to you, your past sins or failures, whatever. Right the wrongs, forgive and forgive some more, show mercy, tell that someone how you feel, mend the bridges, hold things in the palm of your hand rather than a closed fist, leave your sins and burdens at the Cross, live without regret whatever the cost knowing that Jesus already paid the ultimate price with His life. Wow. What freedom! What love! What a gift!