At Dad’s first post-hospitalization appointment the surgeon said, “You are my miracle man.” This, from a doctor deep into his career and not inclined to such descriptions.

Has Dad’s recovery been miraculous? I don’t know. At minimum it’s defied statistics.

Doing excessive mental calisthenics solely on this issue won’t take me where I ultimately need to go. Focusing exclusively on miracle speak is like watching a chicken dance the cha-cha: You leave impressed, but essentially unchanged.

I ultimately need to go to the place where I’m both impressed and changed. This seems to necessitate my asking questions like:

• How can I get a clearer understanding of Jesus as he superintends Dad’s recovery?
• What must be focused upon for me to increasingly submit to, and honor Jesus instead of merely being impressed by his preserving of Dad’s life?
• How might I be increasingly humbled by the grace that’s lavished upon me?

After getting out of bed, showering and shaving – Dad is ready for a nap. His legs are still pretty swollen and parts of his right hand remain temporarily paralyzed. He hurts less but still lots.

In spite of this, he and Mom are enroute to Kerrville, TX (500 miles away) for an Auctioneers Convention this weekend. As only Dad can say, “I can hurt and be tired at work, or I can hurt and be tired at home… …might as well go to work.” Yes, they are crazy. But it’s a good crazy.

Ladies and Gentlemen, Alvin Beadles has left the building. He has been released from the hospital.

I invite you now to track back through the blogs updating Dad’s story. My thankfulness for Dad’s recovery is equalled only by my appreciation for the mercy Jesus showed our family in the midst of it all.

Thank you for walking this path with us.

Talk of Dad’s being released has begun in earnest. It’s hard to imagine given how sick he was only days ago; but we’ll trust them now as we trusted them then.

May the Lord be pleased to continue the clearing of Dad’s post surgical fog and preserve him from any permanent deficits. May the Lord give mom and him the wisdom and patience necessary to navigate this approaching transition.

He’s not winning any races, but he is walking unassisted and pushing his own oxygen bottle. Hopefully he will get weaned from that today.

Walking across the room wears him out; so he’ll need great patience as he transitions from acutely ill to rehabilitating/waiting to get better.

Today was moving day! The word came that Dad was being graduated from ICU and into a regular room. So they packed him up and he was off like a herd of turtles. He walked about 150 yards and refused all offers to quit. That’s the Dad I know.

You have wept while we wept. Now, rejoice as we rejoice.

Most of the Dad’s mental fog has cleared and as expected, he is squarely facing the reality of his situation. If just plain tired were Oklahoma, he’s somewhere around El Salvador. Apparently spending 10 days at the doorway of death takes it out of a guy.

His body systems seem to be cooperating to a degree that allows the Professionals to talk about him being graduated from ICU very soon, then going home someday. We don’t press for a guess. We’re just excited they are increasingly convinced he will actually leave through the front doors instead of the back.

You honor us by sharing our burden. May the Lord be pleased to give Dad a strong and stable blood pressure, the ability to walk unassisted and lungs free of staph pneumonia.

The last 36 hours have proved incredible for Dad. The picture says it all. Finally able to eat, but those who know him can see the mental fog in his countenance.

He is beginning to connect the dots, though he sometimes thinks he’s in New York or it’s time to bale hay. All of this is temporary and expected.

We have definitely turned a corner, yet more corners remain to be turned. May the Lord be pleased to even out his body systems such that the remaining IV medications may be discontinued. This must happen before he can be graduated from ICU.

Today has been amazing. Early this morning, the Lord mercifully allowed Dad’s ventilator to be removed and he’s held his ground all day. May the Lord be pleased to allow him to continue to strengthen and to be finished with the ventilator for good.

Given the fragility of this transition, the staff are understandably limiting our contact with Dad and discouraging visitors for a short while. We don’t want to flood the carberator again.

When awake, he is understandably confused at times, but overall we can see the real Alvin Beadles beginning to shine through.

I’m so proud of Dad, but even prouder of Mom. Through all, she has maintained a faithfulness to Dad and Jesus that can’t be faked. She’s tougher by half than the rest of our family.

Please pray that Dad would continue to improve, beat pneumonia and feel comforted by Jesus as he struggles through the mental fog.

Dad got winched into a chair again today and tolerated it well for about 9 hours. I think he is aware of the change, and if so, believe this encourages him tremendously.

Seeing this picture hopefully allows you to be encouraged in your prayers. He is slowly, slowly improving. It also shows how sick he remains. Those blue tubes and the attached machine behind his head (ventilator) need to go bye bye. May the Lord be pleased to strengthen his lungs to an extent that makes this possible. None of the medical staff posit guesses on time; they are solely focused on winning.

Heather (my wife) took me to downtown OKC for dinner and a trip thru the Bass Pro Shop. It was great being with her but I got all emotional thinking about memories made with Dad in that part of town and how much fun he would have watching his grandkids stare at the fish in the store. I bet if the Doctors did a ManScan on me they’d discover I’m sprouting ovaries.

We are winning, but this is a game of inches. You honor us with your prayers for Dad’s recovery and our family’s strength. May the Lord give us the grace to daily and intentionally place Dad’s life in his hands.

There’s not a good kind of staph pneumonia but mercifully Dad doesn’t have the nastiest one. He’s still on the ventilator and mostly sedated but was winched into a chair today. The surgeon thinks this move will be good for his mind. I agree.

Jesus has mercifully allowed him brief moments of quasi-consciousness today. For the first time Mom asked to be alone with Dad. It has been an honor for my brother and me to protect this time for them.

His eyes look tired. He’s so very sick. Yet, his body continues to fight and, according to the Doctors, he’s winning. May the Lord be pleased to preserve his life.

FYI – For those desiring to visit Dad: You are very gracious to share in our current suffering. There are times Dad can be seen and times the staff believe it best that he not be stimulated. A schedule can’t be determined. In other words, you are warmly welcomed but may not be able to see him.

Thanks for walking with us. Now get back to work before Dad wakes and catches us sitting around!