Hope Springs Eternal with Every Day and Year

Hope Springs Eternal with Every Day and Year

Christopher’s Thumb Up for Hope

I turned another year younger on my birthday this past Wednesday. Like my father before me, I have a unique way of doing mathematical equations and scientific experiments. Call it the ageless theory of relativity.

Such ‘creative’ mathematical and scientific explorations with my ‘time machine’ come in handy when life wears you down. All too often, I feel like my son’s traumatic brain injury in January 2021 and its aftermath in the ensuing months have put years on my life. It didn’t help when one of my college students tried to guess my age on my birthday Wednesday morning. He said I was probably about 50, like his parents. I quipped how sobering it is to know that not only my students, but their parents are younger than I!

Somber thoughts aside, I didn’t feel older Wednesday evening, when I visited Christopher at his care facility. I told Christopher my birthday celebration was being with him. The birthday present that Christopher gave me was icing on the figurative cake: he responded to my prompts to move his right arm! The first time he moved his arm in response to my prompt was dramatic. Unfortunately, I was so surprised that I did not think to videotape him. But I quickly picked up my smart phone and recorded the next set of movements. The video accompanies this post.

I showed the video to our medical consultant, Dr. Potter. Upon reviewing the video involving arm movement, he said: “It surely seems like highly intentional activity.” Dr. Potter also noted that Christopher has contracture limitations that pose challenges for movement at the present time. So, perhaps Christopher wanted to move his arm further, but could not due to contractures and weakness of muscles resulting from inactivity. Hopefully, a specialist will be able to decrease and possibly eliminate the contracture problems and related pain in the coming weeks and months.

Dr. Potter and I reflected on recent signs of conscious control and what that can mean for the timeframe for discerning the possible degree of Christopher’s recovery. Dr. Potter is better at math and statistics than I am. Unlike my thought experiment with my own age, there is nothing relativistic about Dr. Potter’s mathematical and scientific explorations. But his analysis is not rigid and fixed either. As a personalist medical ethicist, he seeks to account for the individual person standing, sitting, or laying down before him. He often says that every human person is the exception to the rule.

Regarding Christopher’s prospects for meaningful recovery, Dr. Potter said that there is no way to predict what a given person will do. Every time we see intentional activity, it extends both the possibilities and probabilities. The possibilities and probabilities may end with time. But with each advance in intentional activity, both possibilities and probabilities increase. As more possibilities show up, it increases the probabilities, but we don’t know how much statistically.

Dr. Potter joined the family for a consultation with a neurologist last Tuesday, the day before my birthday. The neurologist spoke of two years as a mile marker for discerning the degree of recovery for people suffering from TBI. According to Dr. Potter, we should think of two years as a range of probabilities for the degree of recovery. The probabilities for additional recovery may reduce at the two-year mark, but even then, the possibilities for meaningful recovery remain. Every intentional change throughout this unfathomable journey with TBI increases possibilities and probabilities. We don’t know by how much statistically, but they do make a difference for the timeframe.

Christopher’s intentional movement on Wednesday inspired hope in me, as did Dr. Potter’s medical ethical analysis of realistic probabilities and possibilities.

Hope adds years to one’s life, whereas hopelessness puts years on a person. While my cup of life my not be full, I refuse to look at our situation as a cup half empty, but a cup half full. In the face of so many obstacles, I will look for opportunities to experience hope today.

In closing, I take comfort and find hope during this Christian liturgical season of lament in that great biblical book titled Lamentations. I often quote from the following passage every morning as I start my day:

Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed,
for his compassions never fail.
They are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness.
I say to myself, “The Lord is my portion;
therefore I will wait for him.”
The Lord is good to those whose hope is in him,
to the one who seeks him;
it is good to wait quietly
for the salvation of the Lord. (Lamentations 3:22-26; NIV)

The Lord is my portion. The Lord fills my cup with his presence and faithful care. The Lord is good to those whose hope is in him, to the one who seeks God. I wait quietly today and tomorrow and this coming year for the salvation of the Lord. Hope springs eternal!

Here is the video of Christopher showing signs of conscious control. For the various posts reflecting on our journey with Christopher and TBI, please go here. Thank you for your prayers.

About Paul Louis Metzger
Dr. Paul Louis Metzger is the Founder and Director of The Institute for Cultural Engagement: New Wine, New Wineskins and Professor at Multnomah Biblical Seminary/Multnomah University. He is the author of numerous works, including "Connecting Christ: How to Discuss Jesus in a World of Diverse Paths" and "Consuming Jesus: Beyond Race and Class Divisions in a Consumer Church." These volumes and his others can be found wherever fine books are sold. Find me on: Facebook | Twitter | Google+ You can read more about the author here.

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