Tracing God’s Hand in Tragedy

February 24, 2019

Warning: For those who were close to Tad, this may be a hard one to read, because it was certainly a hard one to write. Do not read it if you are in a public place.

I need to write this all down mostly for me to remember, but also because I know there are people out there who are going through their own struggles and need reminding that God doesn’t leave us even when we are going through the tough times. I know when we pray, we want to immediately see the answers we desire, but God sees the whole picture and knows how best to use the circumstances in our life to create His kingdom.

Throughout Tad’s diagnoses and the entire six-and-a-half years he dealt with ALS, we never gave up hope. We continually prayed and sought God’s word. However, we never received the answer we wanted. That doesn’t mean God forgot about us. In fact, we were able to look back and see God’s hand through so much of our life during this time. Mostly because we surrounded ourselves with mature Christians who were obedient to the subtle promptings of the Holy Spirit.

We had many times of financial struggle because of the medical bills, but every time we prayed and put it in God’s hands, money would show up in strange ways. One time a friend of ours brought $200 dollars to us that an acquaintance of theirs had dropped off at their house for us. We didn’t even know these people, but they had felt moved to give us some money. When I was feeling overwhelmed as a caregiver, our church stepped in to find someone to come to our house while I was at work to be with Tad. We had a supportive group that surrounded us and walked the journey side-by-side with us.

Tad had become saved about a year before his diagnosis. He had attended church with me before this but only went on occasion because he knew it made me happy. I know God was tugging on his heart to prepare him for what was to come. Without these wonderful people in our lives, I don’t know how we would have made it.

The part I really want to focus on is the end. That’s why it has been so hard for me to sit down to write this. I try not to dwell on those last days of his life, but God’s presence was so real and powerful, I feel the need to write it all down before it’s lost in the dark recesses of my mind forever.

About three weeks before he died, his lungs started to fail. His diaphragm would spasm. It was like having one, long hiccup that wouldn’t stop. He would gasp for air and his oxygen saturation levels would dip into the 50s. The first time this happened was the day we were supposed to get our family pictures taken. We had planned them two months before because I knew they might be our last. I got him through the spasm and my friend, Rachel, and her daughter, Gracie, came over. Rachel and I took turns sitting with Tad in bed reading to him from the Bible because that was the only way he could rest. We continued to get ourselves ready for pictures just in case and tried to remain positive. Somehow I was able to get him up and dressed while Gracie did Hannah’s hair. We took pictures that afternoon as if nothing had happened. 

That week we made arrangements to have more full-time care for Tad. We made sure he was not alone during the day.  He seemed to get better, but then three weeks later, he had another spasm. Again it was a Saturday morning. I had just gotten out of the shower and was asking him if he wanted to try to take a shower. When I walked over to him, he started to gasp and mouthed to me that he wanted me to call 911. I called and got dressed while we waited for them to arrive. Our daughter, Hannah, had stayed the night across the street. I called over to our neighbor, Patti, to tell her to keep Hannah away from the windows as the ambulance arrived. I sent Jonah to the front door to greet the paramedics and guide them down the hall. I once again called Rachel and she came straight to my house. The kids went over to Patti’s while Rachel drove me to the hospital. I called my mother-in-law. She made the hour-long drive in about 45 minutes to meet us. They were able to stabilize him in the ER. and put him on some oxygen to try to get his levels back up. It took several hours before they decided to admit him. They finally got us into a room around five that evening. The kids came to see him and Rachel took them to her house for the night. 

We didn’t get much rest that night. He started to spasm again around 3:30 in the morning. Luckily the pulmonologist was on the floor. He was the one who was able to explain what was happening to his diaphragm. The only way to stabilize Tad’s breathing that night was to play worship music. I put the song “This is the Air I Breathe” by Elevation Worship on repeat while I prayed over him. Somehow we made it through the night. I had my laptop with me and found a YouTube channel that had hours of spiritual warfare declarations. The whole morning I played that in the hospital room while I tried to keep him calm. Tad wasn’t able to communicate much with us, but we know he was coherent because he was able to tell us to turn the TV on so he could watch the Cowboys—diehard fan to the end!

Earlier that week Tad had contacted our friend Mark. They were trying to arrange a time to visit. Tad really felt that Mark needed to come to pray for him. Mark is the one who led Tad through the Sinner’s Prayer and had even baptized him in our backyard. Mark and his wife Donna (my best friend since high school) had planned to come up for a visit on Sunday. Instead of coming to our house, they came to visit him in the hospital. Mark sat with Tad while Donna and all the kids went with me to my house to grab some clothes and Tad’s food. Mark had recently lost his brother and now he was sitting with Tad, who was like a brother to him, in his final days. I am so glad they had that time together, even if it was only for a short while.

Monday came and Tad insisted he wanted to go home. The doctors helped me make necessary arrangements so we could get a hospital bed and oxygen tank set up at our home. The paramedics transported him home and placed him in our bed. We still didn’t get much sleep that night, but at least we were at home in our own bed. 

Tuesday morning I was able to get him into the living room and into the hospital bed out there. By this point, he only weighed about 90 pounds; so, I was able to lift him pretty easily. His caregiver came and I was able to get my first shower since Saturday. I quietly folded the laundry while he watched TV and drifted in and out. 

That evening our friend, Tyson, asked if there was a good time that week for him to visit Tad. I told him he probably needed to come tonight. He was there within half an hour with his wife, Ashley. As their car pulled into the driveway, Tad’s diaphragm started to spasm again. They came in and I called out to them that it wasn’t good. Ashley went down the hallway to sit with Hannah in her room. Tad wanted me to call 911 again. I told him through my tears that if I did, he wouldn’t come back home. His look said it all. I looked back at him and whispered, “it’s okay.” Tyson asked if he could pray for Tad. It was the first time I had heard Tyson pray out loud. The paramedics came again and took Tad. As all of this was happening, I got a text from my friend, Emily. She asked how we were doing. I told her the paramedics were on their way and we were headed back to the ER. I think Emily made it there before we did.

Ashley stayed with Hannah and waited for Jonah to get home from basketball try-outs while Tyson drove me to the hospital in my car. I didn’t want to call my mother-in-law because I knew she would try to drive down in the dark and the rain. I tried to call one of her friends to go sit with her, but Linda wasn’t answering her phone. So I reluctantly called my mother-in-law and she, of course, headed right down. Tad was not coherent when we got to the ER. 

Before I knew it there were several of our friends crowded into his tiny room holding vigil. I didn’t even need to call these people for them to show up. Linda saw that I had called her and called me back. She said her husband, Jerry, was already on his way to the hospital because he was driving someone from their church there. He found us and came over to pray for Tad. Jerry had known Tad for over twenty years and just “happened” to be at the hospital that night.

In this tiny ER room, Tad was surrounded by close family and friends. Ashley brought the kids to say good-bye. Tad never opened his eyes, but his presence was strong. He held on long enough for many people to have the closure they needed. 

I finally sent everyone home around 9:30. Jerry, Tad’s mom, Tad’s cousin and I remained in the room with him. I got a text at exactly 10:07 from our friend, Lance, who was also in the hospital two hours away. I don’t think Lance knew Tad had gone back to the ER, but he felt the urge to send Tad a scripture. I read the text to Tad and I could feel a sense of great peace in the room. 

I saved the text and read it occasionally. It read:

Hi Karen. The verse is for you and Tad. Come unto me as if you are a little child. Children are free. They have a lot of questions, but they don’t question what a loving parent or savior has in store for them. During this most difficult time become as a little child and receive from Jesus all the love and grace he wishes to bestow upon you. Love, Lance.

Tad died at 11:30 PM.  

I drove home and thanked God for giving Tad to me. I told him how honored I was to be chosen as his caregiver while he was on this earth. My mother-in-law and her niece followed me home. I didn’t call anyone that night. I figured that could wait until morning.

I know for those of you reading this, you may be wondering where God was. You see, He was right there the whole time. He had prepared the way. He knew the steps we would take before we took them. He made sure the kids and I were surrounded. He kept my kids sheltered from seeing the really tragic parts and made sure they had people to take care of them while I couldn’t. He kept my mother-in-law safe on the roads and made sure she had people there just for her. He let people who loved Tad have the closure they needed.

I know many people don’t see the benefit of going to church because they think it is full of hypocrites and sinners. Many have been hurt by organized religion. It’s true that the church is full of perfectly imperfect people, but that’s the way it’s supposed to be. We are not meant to live alone and only look out for ourselves. God longs to dwell among His people. I encourage anyone reading this to find a group of people who know how to hear the voice of God and pursue His will. Without such people in my life, I would not have been able to weather this storm and come through the other side of it empowered instead of bitter.