Manager of the Year

My husband has loved the Chicago Cubs ever since he was a kid growing up in Hendersonville, Tennessee, a mere 463 miles away from Wrigley Field. He played baseball on a little league team under the Cubs moniker in the age of Ryne Sandberg's Golden Glove. Over the last twenty five years his allegiance to the Cubs has proven it's loyalty in the face of adversity, as year after year a championship evaded the famed team. Blake pores over Chicago Cubs statistics and team news. Two years ago he made a prediction that the Cubs were on track for a winning season in 2016. Last Saturday, Blake and I enjoyed watching the Cubs play the Braves in Atlanta. As we watched Jake Arrieta pitch fast balls at break neck speeds, I realized how extraordinary this year's team truly is. We were witnessing history unfolding as Anthony Rizzo, Javier Baez, Jason Heyward, Kris Bryant, Dexter Fowler, Ben Zobrist, Addison Russell, Chris Coghlan, Albert Almora, Jr., Matt Szczur, Miguel Montero, and others took the field and played their hearts out.

Blake was keeping score and grinning from ear to ear during the game. The Chicago fans outnumbered the Braves fans 4:1 that day. We took our place in the sea of blue and cheered on our beloved Cubs. Many commentators have attributed the Cubs' success this season to their manager Joe Maddon, who has become known for his outlandish and wacky style of leadership. He intelligently manages his players while keeping the game fun. Under Maddon's authority, the group has bonded and seems more like a family of friends than a sports team. He deserves Manager of the Year just as sure as the Chicago Cubs deserve a championship. Blake and I are enjoying watching every game we can and looking forward to more wins this season from our Cubs.

This morning I held our little girl's hand on the way to the kitchen. She and I sat and talked for a little bit about Daddy and Father's Day. She climbed into her chair at the table and we made pictures and a card for Blake. Our daughters love their daddy so much. No matter how busy he is, he always makes time to get down on the floor and play with them, much to their wonder and delight. The girls and I have been sick lately and Blake has taken such good care of us. When I think of all the things we have been through - from living in a crack house, to getting robbed, then three and a half years of seminary, our first child's open heart surgery, serious illnesses, hospital stays, surgeries, deaths of family members, deaths of friends, heartbreaks, long distance moves, two babies that went to Heaven before we were ready, another three years and counting of grad school, a long distance study abroad stint, my near-death experience - these first eight years of marriage have been a "trial by fire" kind of season in life.

I am so thankful for Blake's loyalty in sickness and in health, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, til death do us part. Here we stand, two beautiful children, a few gray hairs, and four and a half degrees later, "pressed but not crushed, persecuted but not abandoned, struck down but not destroyed," eight years and nineteen days from the day we said our vows. We may be a little bedraggled and windblown but at least we're still standing, by God's grace. Today I want to publicly honor my husband, the father of my children, the greatest Cubs fan ever, for his faithfulness, his kindness, his perseverance and relentless determination towards excellence in everything he puts his hand to. He plans wisely, works hard, plays hard and keeps the game of life fun. Blake McKinney gets our votes for Manager of the Year over ol' Joe Madden every time (and we really like Joe). Happy Father's Day to our favorite Cub!

The Day Death Lost Its Sting, Part III

Part III: Easter Sunday

Jen: 

I remember an uncomfortable day of recovery in the ICU on Friday and into Saturday morning. I could not get comfortable in the bed and longed for sleep but was frequently awakened by the beeping of life saving machines and painful, confused cries issuing from nearby rooms. When the nurse told me it was time to sit up and bathe myself, I thought she was crazy. The last time I sat up I was passed out in a wheelchair and needed two emergency surgeries. With the help of my husband and a great nursing staff, I spent Saturday recovering in a room on the Labor and Delivery floor. It was bittersweet to say the least. I was mostly just thankful to be alive and wanted to see my children. My family and Blake took the girls to an Easter egg hunt with friends. Blake brought Lily to see me that night after a video chat had brought both girls to tears. There is nothing sweeter than that first hug with your almost four year old daughter after a near death experience. The next day was Easter Sunday. Blake, the girls and my family all went to church to celebrate before coming by the hospital for a much needed visit. 

I had hoped to celebrate Easter with my family and friends but was sweetly comforted by the power of Jesus's death and resurrection on my behalf as I sat in that hospital bed thinking over the events of recent days. All total, I received 14 units of blood, 7 units of fresh frozen plasma, and countless bags of fluids and nutrients to bring me back to life. To put this in perspective, a friend who is a nurse practitioner explained that a healthy person my size has 6-8 units of blood in their entire body. That blood saved my life. Truly life is in the blood as the Bible says. I have never been more aware that my life is truly reliant upon the sustaining hand of Jesus and His powerful, life-giving blood. He bled so that I can live. He died, was buried and rose again on the third day that I might have new life in Him. I can live and breathe in joy and freedom today because He rose again. I have no fear of death as the final end to my life because I know Him personally and He lives and my life is hidden in His. When I die, there will be no darkness for me, only the resplendent light of the presence of God, the loving Father who has created, cared for and nourished me all the days of my life. This life is just practice for the life to come. Here I have the opportunity to learn to love God and love others more than myself. I can live by faith and grace and enjoy the good gifts God gives us every day. I am preparing to live forever with my God and a large family of believers that will span all ethnicity, language, and time. Praise Him!

I look forward to that day when I enter that eternal joy but for now I am thankful for His continued sustaining grace that gives me a chance at life here with this lovely family He has placed me in. On Easter Sunday I was visited by a doctor who told me I could eat again for the first time since Thursday morning, a sweet gift and a means of celebration.  Monday morning I was blessed to see my doctor again and thanked her for saving my life. I am so thankful for the constant care and careful, thoughtful operations that she performed to keep me alive. She approved me for discharge from the hospital and gave me instructions for the next 4 weeks of recovery which includes a lot of bed rest and the indentured servitude of my husband in caring for the girls and me. Blake, you are my hero. We are so thankful for him!

Blake:

After the last surgery, the next 72 hours were a blur. Jen was in the ICU for another 24 hours, then a regular room for 2 days. I drove back and forth from the hospital to house numerous times to spend some time with the girls. Thanks to Jen's family, we were able to take the girls to an Easter egg hunt on Saturday and to church Sunday morning. Jen was finally released Monday afternoon. She is in for a long recovery in which she won't be able to pick up the girls or stand up/walk for any real length of time for the next month or so. However, we are thrilled to have her home. The girls are so happy to have mommy back, and our lives are starting to return to some semblance of normalcy.

Thank you all for your prayers, texts, meals, flowers, words of encouragement, etc. We have felt incredibly loved through all of this. God has been gracious to let us keep Jen, and He has shown us grace, mercy, and love through all of you.

Jen:

I am so thankful to my Marsha and Tyler and my parents who stepped in as surrogate parents for our girls when my life was ebbing away. I am immensely grateful for my amazing husband who has been dependable, strong, and so very capable through this ordeal. He is the greatest father to our girls and has sacrificed everything to care for them and me through this process. I love him more than ever and can't imagine life without his loving strong hands and kind heart. Recovery is a long hard road but I am so thankful that I am on it. I am thankful for this new day, a new chance at life. Thank you to all our family, friends, and church family who have offered love, meals, prayer, childcare, groceries, etc. We are so humbled by this outpouring of love and in desperate need of your continued support in the weeks ahead. I am thankful for the all the people who gave their blood so that I could live. Thank You Jesus for giving Your blood to cover over all my sins and wash me clean again. 

My heart if absolutely broken that this body will not grow more precious babies. Our dreams of having a biological son to carry on the family name or more little sisters that look like Lily and Eden to laugh and play with have been shattered. But God. But God has given us more than we deserve in these heartbeats and breath and bodies that live and move and have their being in Him. He has given us two beautiful little girls by His grace and goodness. He has given us hands and hearts to love and serve and care for the least of these - children who have no one to love them, no families to care for or raise them in love and truth. He has given us an opportunity to minister and relate to in a new and personal way to our beloved friends who walk the lonely, aching road of infertility. I have had two miscarriages in the past four years. My precious babies are in a real place called Heaven and they will only ever know glory, wholeness, beauty, and resplendent light. No tear will fill their eyes, nor pain grip their bodies. My soul will meet theirs in glory and together we will worship the King forever with joy and love. As for the rest of us, we don't know what the future holds for us here in this life but we are thankful for each day He gives us together. I am looking forward to the memories we will make and getting to enjoy life with these incredible people. Thank you for your prayers and support. We are blessed beyond measure and that is more than enough.

Ephesians 3:11- 21

"This was according to the eternal purpose that he has realized in Christ Jesus our Lord, 12 in whom we have boldness and access with confidence through our faith in him. 13 So I ask you not to lose heart over what I am suffering for you, which is your glory.

14 For this reason I bow my knees before the Father, 15 from whom every family[c] in heaven and on earth is named, 16 that according to the riches of his glory he may grant you to be strengthened with power through his Spirit in your inner being,17 so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith—that you, being rooted and grounded in love, 18 may have strength to comprehend with all the saints what is the breadth and length and height and depth, 19 and to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, that you may be filled with all the fullness of God.

20 Now to him who is able to do far more abundantly than all that we ask or think, according to the power at work within us, 21 to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, forever and ever. Amen."

The Day Death Lost Its Sting, Part II

Good Friday, Part II

Blake:

At first, being in the ICU was not as terrifying as it sounds. The whole time we were there, I kept thinking we would be going home in a matter of hours. In the ER when they first gave her saline, I thought that would be all that was needed. Then, when they gave her blood, I thought it was a bit intense but that it would be all she needed. Then, when they said they were moving her to the ICU, the doctor said that she wanted Jen to have a dedicated nurse monitoring her blood pressure. I thought going to the ICU was a bit intense, but, hey, if that’s the only way to have someone keep an eye on her, so be it. I was convinced we’d be going home first thing in the morning. All I was concerned about was making sure I could get home for a bit to put the girls to bed somewhat close to their normal bed time. Once Jen seemed to be getting some rest, I called our pastor’s wife/resident supernurse Suzanne to come sit with Jen while I ran home. I think I ended up getting to the house sometime around 9pm. I tucked in the girls, and returned to the hospital to find around a dozen of our friends from church waiting in the chapel/waiting room outside the ICU.

Jen was awake and able to converse. Over the next couple hours I brought in one of the ladies from church in at a time to see Jen. Always considering others above herself, Jen asked how each of them was doing and she apologized for various things to them (e.g., not praying for their ministry enough). Jen’s mom and step-dad arrived around midnight. Jen’s mom is a nurse, and she quickly mastered all the data relevant to Jen’s condition. I gave Jen some time with her parents, and I visited with the remaining folk from church. I returned to the ICU, and Jen’s mom and I stayed with Jen in the ICU. The medical staff informed us that they were going to perform a DNC on Jennifer once they got her blood pressure to a stable level.

Sometime after 1am Friday morning, Jen began to feel a lot of pain. Shortly after, she began to bleed much more. Her blood pressure dropped significantly (60/19), and she teetered on unconsciousness. At this point, I have no idea how many nurses and doctors swarmed the room (maybe 8?), but I can tell you that it was terrifying. They pumped Jen with fluids and oxygen, and I’m sure they did other medical things that I did not catch. When they got her more stable (but not what anyone would call “stable” normally), they pulled me aside to tell me that Jen needed emergency surgery. Considering that they had already told me that her blood pressure was way too low to do any sort of procedure, I knew that this was a true emergency. The doctor explained to me that she was going to perform a DNC, and if she could not stop the bleeding, she would perform an emergency hysterectomy. This was completely shocking to me. I had, as of yet, not considered this possibility. But I was faced with my wife crashing and flirting with death, I knew there was no option. With a pit in my stomach, I signed the consent forms.

As we waited for the surgical team to arrive at the hospital around 1:45am, I spent as much face-to-face time with Jen as possible. We told each other “I love you” more times than I can count. Jen—always considering others—began to give me remarriage advice, saying, “Blake, I want you to remarry for the girls. I want you to marry someone like _____, ______, or _____ [three of our godly married friends]. They’re married…so you’ll have to marry someone like them.” Then, I played videos of the girls for Jen to watch as they made the final preparations for the surgery. As they rolled her out, Jen said, “Whatever happens, remember that God is good.”

Jen:

I should note that at this point I lost feeling in my limbs and experienced a creeping heaviness over my body and up my spine. I told Mom and the staff what was happening. They knew immediately that my body was shutting down, shunting my blood away from my limbs and vital organs to the most vital, my heart and brain. I was cold and afraid and yet there was a sense of clarity that ran over me. I knew that God was faithful and that whatever happened, whether I was ushered home to Heaven or my life was preserved here a while longer, God was good and we would all be ok. I didn't want to leave my family yet. I wanted Blake to be assured of God's goodness and not give way to bitterness, to instill that knowledge and faith in our children's minds and hearts. I didn't know what the surgery would entail as they rushed me toward the O.R. I remember the table being cold. They placed the mask on my nose and mouth and I welcomed the warmth of sleep.

Blake:

Jen’s mom, step-dad, and I followed Jen’s bed down the hall, until we were ushered into the OR waiting room between 2:00-2:15am. I immediately went to the far corner and called my parents to tell them what was happening. As soon as I heard their voices I began to weep. I got out the words “emergency surgery…possible hysterectomy” and a few other things. We told each other “I love you,” and I hung up. Jen’s dad wrapped his arm around me, and I lost it. Then, I sat down and texted almost everyone in my contacts list asking for prayer. I began to worry. How was I going to tell the girls if Jen died? Lily’s only concept of death was that Jesus died and then came back three days later. How would I explain that it doesn’t work like that for the rest of us?

A few friends were awake to text back that they were praying. One of my dear friends from church came and sat with us through the surgery. We got a couple updates throughout the surgery telling us of Jen's progress. After the surgery, her doctor came to tell me that Jen had made it through the surgery well. She had performed the DNC (a procedure to clean out a miscarriage), and then monitored Jen's bleeding for a while. Without giving the gory details, she then did something to put pressure on the bleeding, which seemed to significantly slow it down. She said that it was a possibility that Jen might not need another surgery, but we would be watching her closely for the next 12 hours. By this point, Jen had been given 7 units of blood (from what I'm told, that is about the equivalent of the amount of blood someone Jen's size has in their entire body). Shortly afterwards they wheeled Jen back to the ICU, I had to wait 15-20 minutes to see her.

It was such a relief to see Jen back in the ICU (which is probably the weirdest sentence I've ever typed). She was weak and tired, but she was alive (and she had her uterus!). She seemed stable enough for Jen's parents to go to a hotel to sleep for a bit (as they had been up for 24 hours and driven 4.5 hours at this point). Within 30-45 minutes, however, Jen complained that she felt like she was bleeding again. The nurse examined her and realized that she was indeed bleeding just as much as before. The doctor came in and explained that Jennifer was diagnosed with D.I.C. (You can google it, but basically it means that she was bleeding to death and bleeding for such a length of time that her body would lose the ability to clot), and that a hysterectomy was the only solution. Otherwise her major organs would start to fail, beginning with her kidneys and liver. I called Jen's parents, but they were in no condition to drive back to the hospital. Once again, I signed consent forms, told Jennifer I loved her, and followed her bed down the hall until I was ushered into the O.R. waiting room again.

This time I did not have the O.R. waiting room to myself. It was around 6am, and all the general surgery folk (tonsils, hernias, etc.) were milling about in the waiting room. I felt so alone. No one in there knew worry like I did at that moment. I called and talked with my sister for a while, and then, thankfully, friends from church began to file in. Waiting during this surgery was considerably less terrifying. Early on in the surgery they called me to tell me that her blood pressure had risen into the triple digits for the first time in a long while once they had clamped off the uterus. From then on, we waited, prayed, and talked. I am thankful for the friends that came that allowed me to talk and even laugh with them as I tried to take my mind off the hell we were living through. 

Around an hour or an hour and a half after they took her back to surgery, Jen's doctor came and got me. We sat and talked in a room off the O.R. waiting room. She was exhausted and I was exhausted, but we could both relax knowing that Jen was out of the woods. Her blood pressure was much closer to normal, and the source of the bleeding was gone. With this surgery Jen was moved from a life-and-death case to a recovering-from-major-but-semi-routine-abdominal-surgery case.