When we came out here to Utah, in the fall of 2007, to candidate, we met a family. The closeness of the four of them reminded me so much of my own experience growing up. They took us to Sonic, watched our son while we visited with others, and even found us our first rental when our house in San Diego wouldn't sell. Garrett took an immediate liking to their oldest child, Trevor, who was then about nine. Trevor's kindness to Garrett was incredible. My son was a toddler with a vocabulary limited to about ten words and Trevor would play--endlessly--with him anyway. When Garrett took a liking to one of Trevor's old toy trucks, he let him have it. That red pick up is still in the playroom.
More than three years have passed and Trevor is now in 7th grade. And in the PICU at the Children's Hospital here in Salt Lake. On the night of the 15th, he experienced a brain hemorrhage. In surgery, they removed the back of his skull and it is believed that the hemorrhage was caused by a vein defect that he was born with. Currently, he is in an induced coma. He's in critical condition and yesterday and today are considered "survival" days.
He did very well yesterday. They were going to try to take him out of the coma today but his blood pressure was too high so they are waiting. Troy and I went up to the hospital this morning but we were unable to see him. Yesterday they had too many visitors and today is limited just to family. We were able to see his dad and sister. They are doing amazingly well, all things considered. We saw a picture of him, looking so much younger than his years. Looking just like a little boy. Looking just like someone's baby. We're praying fervently for his family as they watch their son--their baby--fighting for life.
Obviously, we don't know what will ultimately happen with Trevor. But I believe in the power of prayer and I believe that my God is fully capable of healing him. Whether He chooses to is not up to me but I can petition the Almighty for just that. Total and complete healing. I've seen what the power of prayer can do. I've seen it in my own life. I've seen it in my friends' lives. And, in his short time here, my son has seen what prayer can do.
We debated whether to tell Garrett and then we debated what to tell him. In the end we carefully explained it all. He, in turn, went to his room and got Trevor Truck (as we affectionately named it more than three years ago). Holding the truck in his hands he prayed, "God, make Trevor feel better." A few minutes later he heard the garage door as his daddy left for work. He ran to me holding a wooden truck my parents bought him when he was a baby. "Garrett" is painted on the side in colorful letters. "Mommy! No!" He screamed. I looked at him, confused. "Daddy already left!" He moaned and started to cry. "I wanted him to take my truck to Trevor! He needs to have my truck!"
In that moment I gathered my boy in my arms and started to sob. I'd been crying off and on since I'd first heard the news so it was a quick trip to emotional wreck. I told him how very sweet that was and how proud of him I am. I calmed him down and then he went off to preschool and told all of his friends about Trevor. When preschool was over he asked me if God had made Trevor well yet. You see, when a four-year-old prays, he expects results.
Please pray with me. Know that, whatever happens, your prayers will be heard. Expect results.