All I Want for Christmas

Good Morning and Merry Christmas to all our family -- wouldn't you say we're all pretty much family by now?

Shea's time at home was beautiful for us all. She was very tired as we had spent four hours yesterday morning trying to comb out the rats in her hair. She has been lying on the back of her head for over a month, and we figured that the nurses, Steve and I have spent 15-20 hours trying to save her hair. After much pain and tears Shea finally asked me to go ahead and begin cutting. I hated to do it as her hair grows very slowly, but we had no choice. Hair was falling as were my tears, but I carefully cut away. As I got to her scalp I discovered a large bald spot with a 1-inch round sore. Puzzled, I asked the nurse about it. It's called a decubitus, a pressure sore or ulcer, just like a bed sore. Her hair, all matted together in the back, put all the pressure on her head causing hair loss and the sore. Poor girl, neither of us realized it was there, and I had yanked on her head in that area over and over. Shea couldn't understand why she couldn't take the pain anymore. As the last snarl was cut away, I couldn't help but think how symbolic it was -- sometimes we must cut away that which we love, but hinders, to bring true healing.

Monty, a respiratory therapist came to work with Shea. They talked together and Shea shared with him that she just doesn't feel like she belongs here in the brain injury unit. She was a little discouraged about her face and teeth, and he began to speak truth into her life. "Shea, maybe your purpose in being here is to be a blessing to all the patients who aren't clear in their minds like you are." He spent a lot of time encouraging Shea. She thanked him, and he said, "Shea, I'm just being obedient to God right now -- you need encouragement today, and I know you'll bless others during your stay here." Thank you, Monty -- you were an "angel."

John and Liz, Elliot, Laura and Charles finally arrived from Connecticut last night after a long Christmas Eve flight delay. We greeted them at the door, and then could see in their eyes, "Good to see you, but where's Shea?" There's no comparison, I know, but it reminded us of the anticipation the shepherds must have felt as they came to see baby Jesus for the first time. Shea was seated on the couch, and the family gathered around. They gently hugged her, and Aunt Liz knelt on the floor beside her. Through tears she told Shea that she just had to come witness for herself the miracle God had done in our family. Shea slept much of the time she was home, but we still partied softly around her.

On our trip back to the hospital, Steve said to her, "Honey, I'm so sorry this had to happen to you." She responded, "Don't be sorry, Dad. I'm so glad this didn't happen to Luke. This is God's plan for my life." "Did you have a great Christmas Eve?" I asked her. She answered with a smile, "Yes, but 'all I want for Christmas is my two front teeth'"!!!

Shea is sleeping now, and when she awakens we will head home to spend a few hours again enjoying a quiet Christmas with our family. We think of the Jones family as they are spending their first Christmas without Mike. In the midst of our joy, there is always this sadness that hovers in our hearts. I know there are cliche things that we can say -- He's not suffering -- He's in a better place -- but we wish he were here with us, because we loved him. We found a piece of paper by Luke's bed where he had written, possibly beginning lyrics to a song, "God must have really missed you." We do too, and we are remembering Mike's whole family today.

Luke 2:11
"For unto you is born this day . . . a Savior, which is Christ the Lord."

May you cherish your families today, as we are.

Merry Christmas,

The Hickoks