Reap What We Have Sown

A farmer who plants just a few seeds will get only a small crop, but if he plants much, he will reap much. 2 Cor. 9:6 (Living)

“I won’t leave,” Frank said as he stood in front of the nurse’s station. He was overtaken by the smell of burned skin and the sounds of the life saving monitors in the stark surroundings. The man he had known as his role model since he was fifteen had been badly injured and severely burned. The nurses had just told him, “Only family members allowed in.” He officially was not family, and did not share the same last name. The nurses did not understand that this young man was as much a son to us as our own.

In the early years our family was filled with laughter and tears. My husband and I had two busy children of our own. Somehow more arrived as they needed places to stay. They came and went as their needs required. We were never in any programs and never adopted any of the children; we just had an open door policy. I loved children and had a huge nurturing heart and considered each one my own. My husband loved work and provided well for all of us.

As everyone grew into adults and found their own way in life, most kept in touch with us. I was amazed how they needed me when they were young and then grew very close to my husband as adults. They always went to him for advice in business and finance, and he was always there to help them.

One of the boys that lived in our home off and on since he was 15 stayed very close to us as an adult. Frank was in his late twenties when we were in a horrendous accident. We were severely injured and burned. Rusty my husband was not expected to live; he only had a 9% chance.

Frank was cleared to go into my husband’s hospital room. He stood by his bed watching the man he loved lay wrapped in white bandages from head to toe. The ventilator was breathing for him and the sounds of the monitors were the only indicators of life. It was at that moment that Frank had decided to stand and fight this fight for life with the man he knew as “Dad.”

Frank’s routine each day was to go to work during the day and spend the night sitting next to his dad. He watched as the nurses did the bandage changes and the procedures that were required. Questions were asked constantly, and the cycle of ups and downs continued for the first two months his dad laid in a coma.

We all sighed with relief when Rusty was moved out of the burn unit into the rehabilitation unit. Now it was time for him to learn to feed himself and learn to walk and talk all over again. Frank increased his hours at the hospital to help with this long painful process. He became very protective of his dad and learned everything he could to help Rusty when the nurses were sometimes not available. This adopted son would make sure he was there each time the therapist would exercise Rusty to teach Frank to do the stretches to make it possible to walk.

Walking was complicated as Rusty’s injuries consisted of 68% burn with loss of his left side of his face and eye. He had his left fingers amputated and was declared legally blind. There was much work and reconstruction left to do when he was released from the hospital four months after he entered.

When we learned the date of release, there was not an option in Frank’s mind what he needed to do. It was difficult for him when he was working.  All he thought about was his dad and the care he was receiving. He ran on adrenaline and seemed obsessed with his care. Rusty was reluctant when it came time to come home. Who was going to help him? Frank knew the procedures, so he gave up his day job and was now Rusty’s full time caregiver. His dad trusted him and felt very comfortable with the arrangement.

I still needed full time care. My caregiver was also one of the children that was in and out of our home. She was my niece and was a home health aide. She also gave up her job to move in and help me recuperate.

Many of our other children were in and out of the house, but we encouraged them to go on with their own lives as much as possible. Life as we knew it had changed, but we were all still together.

Rusty had a long way to go. Each day the routine seemed the same. Frank took control and was firm but loving with his demands. Rusty needed to learn to do things for himself again. It seems when a person is in the hospital for a long period of time they fall into the victim role instead of the survivor mode. Even though Frank was the son helping his father get better, the roles were reversed; and at times that was difficult. I think that is one of the obstacles in a family member being a caregiver. It is hard to forget the parent child relationship.

Rusty started to want to take control of his own life, which we all prayed for, but Frank felt apprehensive. I believe it is like knowing when to let our children go and letting them stumble and fall. For example, one of the not so fond memories was when Rusty insisted on driving his truck again. Frank drove him to a large parking lot and his dad got into the driver’s seat as he sat in the passenger seat praying.

After five months of staying home and helping his dad learn not only to be a survivor but a thriver, Frank went back to work. He still came by daily to check his progress. If you would ask Frank today if he would do it all again, he wouldn’t hesitate a moment in saying, “This was a terrible time in life, but I learned perseverance, patience, and unconditional love through it all. It was my time to give back, and the power of prayer was proven over and over again.”

“Reap what we sow” is exactly what God was showing us through this season in our lives. We have wonderful children, our own, plus others that had a time in their lives when they needed someone to love them. They were all there for us when we were in need. We all learned so many lessons during that time in our lives. Most of all, life can change in a moment. Love and support each other while we can.

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