The Boy Who Came Back from Heaven: A Remarkable Account of Miracles, Angels, and Life Beyond This World (10 page)

Thank you, God, for Your miraculous healing in our son.

PrayforAlex.com post by Kevin Malarkey on January 12, 2005

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The growth of Alex’s hair was keeping pace with the length of his hospital stay, so a friend of ours came down to give him a haircut. Out of this most simple procedure, we learned something new about Alex. As the barber was working away, we suddenly realized that Alex had caught sight of himself in the mirror. This was the first time he’d seen himself since coming back to consciousness. Upon catching his image in the mirror, Alex immediately began attempting to make his facial muscles do what his mind wanted.

Alex stared intently into the mirror, doing battle with the recalcitrant muscles, his face twitching and eyes burning with determination. I watched quietly, but in my heart I was on the sidelines of this immense struggle jumping up and down, screaming at the top of my lungs,
Go Alex! Go Alex!

This
was the Alex I knew, the fighter, the child showing the initiative to take the tools he had and perfect his use of them. He was fighting for all he was worth with everything he had. He wasn’t just lying there, giving up because of the obstacles he faced. He was being proactive, refusing to give in. I may have been quietly holding a mirror while sitting on the edge of his bed, but inside I was high-fiving everyone in the stadium:
Did you see that play? That’s my son Alex. He’s a winner!

For two hours I held the mirror while Alex practiced all his moves—moving the corner of his mouth, puckering his lips, and rolling his eyes.

I sat watching, in awe of his determination, beaming with pride. There could be no mistake about it now. Alex, the one and only Alex we loved, was in there fighting to get out. Every doctor knows how imperative the will to fight is. Lose that, and it’s all over. Several times we had asked ourselves if Alex possessed that vital drive. Now we had our answer, and it filled us with renewed energy to keep our minds and hearts in the game.

Before this moment, I hadn’t realized how low my spirits had become. But no sooner did I watch my young warrior doing battle than the fight came back into me, too. In that incredible moment, my son became my hero and my inspiration. I was and am his father and mentor, but in that instant our relationship changed forever. It was then that I had the first inkling that Alex had a lot to teach me about courage, determination, and keeping up the fighting spirit.

Week by week Alex’s command of his facial muscles grew. One of the early exercises was for him to blow into a straw. The therapist would attach the straw to a device that would move a small ball about twelve inches up a tube, toppling it to the ground. To help motivate Alex to keep at it, we put a little medicine cup of water on the top of the device and then asked for “volunteers” to put their heads near enough so that when Alex blew hard enough to topple the cup, the volunteer would be splashed with water. Watching that happen was all the encouragement Alex needed; soon he was blowing that straw for all he was worth.

Alex didn’t remain satisfied with his progress for very long. He wasn’t content to limit his ability to communicate to facial expressions. Now that this battle was won, the battle to push actual words out of his mouth was just beginning. People who sustain severe brain injuries must often learn to speak all over again. Alex was up for the challenge.

Starting from somewhere in his throat, each sound would make the torturous journey over his tongue and out his mouth. In the beginning, they were mostly earnest, garbled noises. He would work the sounds from throat and mouth the best he could, and we would spend the next five or ten minutes trying to decipher their meaning. Alex would then give the signal for
no
until we got it right. We were like linguists establishing the basis for communication in an unknown tongue. It was like mining for precious gems, and we rejoiced over every single word.

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Alex continues to work hard in his therapy. The speech therapist is working on strengthening the muscles in his face, getting Alex to communicate with his eyes using cards and objects. . . . Alex continues to push out sounds, but they are difficult to understand. He was able to increase his volume a bit when asked to by the speech therapist. In all honesty, all three of us in the room thought that the word Alex was trying to say was
Jesus
.
I had a difficult time yesterday as I had conflicting emotions watching Alex. Everything he is doing is literally a miracle. He is much more aware, and he is trying so hard. At the same time, it is hard to believe that my brilliant little boy is struggling so hard to make a sound. I have wept on a couple of occasions as I see his pain and frustration. Strangely as it often is in life, progress leads to a more difficult and intense level of struggle.

PrayforAlex.com post by Kevin Malarkey on January 15, 2005

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As with anything worthwhile, the real work started after the fun of the new enterprise had worn off. As Alex tried to form words, we were both thrilled and frustrated. We wanted so badly to have a normal conversation with him, and he was working tirelessly to make that happen. We simply had to hang in there with him until we could figure out what it was he was trying to say. It could be frustrating for him, too, but Alex had nearly miraculous patience and determination. Even a six-year-old has complex thoughts, feelings, and reactions to share, and we wondered what was within him that might run deeper than a simple yes or no.

We all needed perseverance. In the middle of this effort, Beth came up with a brilliant idea that I, the psychotherapist of the household, could only admire. She proclaimed a rule against Alex’s trying to communicate about anything he
couldn’t
do. We would follow along and figure out what he was saying, but if we determined he was talking about an inability, we stopped and asked him to name three abilities. It was a page straight from my father’s philosophy, and it set the tone for the kind of positive emotional attitude that Alex already had but vitally needed to maintain.

For so many months Alex hadn’t seemed to know or care whether we were present. Now when we left the room, he would become visibly upset and had a whole arsenal of protest expressions at his disposal. We all need to be needed. Maybe that’s why I loved that Alex would become upset when we stepped out of the room. After not knowing if he would ever come back, it was comforting that when he did, he needed me.

Angels in Rehab

What a joyous development it was when Alex came out of his coma, when he came back to us—a direct answer to the prayer of thousands, a direct blessing to his dad and mom. I was still riding high from this momentous occasion about two weeks later when I went to visit him one night. Arriving in his room, I found that Margaret, a new acquaintance from a local church, was there, having signed up on the prayer schedule.

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Alex . . . demonstrated some skills that he has not mastered prior to today. He opened his mouth on command, he stuck out his tongue on command, he used his chin to press a lever and perform a task. He also demonstrated some connections between his cognitions, his emotions, and his physical movements.
The lack of the presence of most of these skills was discussed at a meeting [yesterday]. It seems that when medical staff meet and discuss what Alex cannot do, God likes to show up the next day and mix things up a bit. I have been concerned about Alex’s motivational level, and he now has shown us that he can be highly motivated (he used his chin to move a lever that moved a toy for at least ten minutes). I have watched him struggle to use muscles in the right side of his face, and he used these muscles perfectly as he had his “smiling face” on for at least five to ten minutes. He has now demonstrated a full range of emotions.
God is waking up our son more each day, and Alex is responding like a warrior (David). He has been strong and courageous like Joshua. Most of all, though, he has been blessed by a loving God. We still wait for God to breathe breath back into Alex so that he may get rid of the ventilator. I still believe that this will happen soon.
Thank you for your prayers. Please continue to pray for us that we may honor God and conform to His character.

PrayforAlex.com post by Kevin Malarkey on January 20, 2005

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Perhaps he was tired, perhaps discouraged—whatever the reason, Alex didn’t want to answer the litany of yes/no questions that had become the centerpiece of our interaction in those two weeks since he had regained consciousness. Margaret and I started talking about various aspects of the new reality, Alex conscious and interacting with us. These were such exciting times, filled with new hope.

Margaret happened to be talking when suddenly Alex’s countenance dramatically changed. His mouth opened wider than I had ever seen it, and it remained open, something that had never happened before. At first, Alex stared straight up at the ceiling of his room, but then his eyes began darting round the room. He didn’t look at Margaret or me again, which was highly unusual. When I would enter Alex’s room, his eyes were normally fixed directly on me 90 percent of the time. This night was different. For the next two hours Alex looked at me only about 20 percent of the time. Something strange was happening.

I began asking Alex a series of questions, desperately attempting to figure out what was going on. It was exhausting. I asked him every question I could think of—at least a hundred. Just when I could think of nothing else to ask, it dawned on me: we might not be alone. After all, angels had visited before, when Alex’s neck was healed.

“Alex, are there angels in the room here with us? Show me with your eyes.”

An even bigger smile broke out across Alex’s face as he looked at Margaret. When he smiled big, I knew the answer to my question was yes, but when he looked at Margaret, I was a little confused.

“Is Margaret an angel?”

Alex puckered his lips to indicate no.

“Okay, Alex, is the angel
behind
Margaret?”

Alex curled the corner of his mouth to say yes.

At first, Alex indicated that there were many angels in the room, but then most of them left until only three remained. To find out how many angels were present, I would offer numbers until I got a yes. Then things changed again. It seemed that Alex was trying to talk. We watched with great intensity as Alex struggled to form a word. Following an immense effort that visibly marshaled every fiber of his will, Alex said, “Mom”! Then, as if to ensure that the word wouldn’t escape, he began to say it over and over again. My heart couldn’t contain the joy of that moment of triumph. I had cried a lot up to this point, but I liked these tears much better.

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I told Kevin that had I not been there, but had just been reading the post, I probably would have doubted what had happened—not Kevin’s honesty, but just maybe he was being a little too hopeful. Please understand when you read this that I’m someone who has to have things really proved to me. I probably would have stood behind Thomas for my turn to touch Jesus’ nail-scarred hand.
I have been a Christian for thirty-two years, and I’ve never experienced what I experienced [that] night. For the first forty-five minutes Kevin was there he had Alex’s undivided attention—which I understand is usual. Once Alex began to open his mouth wide and look around, the only time he focused on his dad was when we asked questions. Everything you’ve read in the two angels’ messages happened, but I wish everyone reading this could have seen Alex’s face. He was truly radiant.

Margaret Mokry

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Wait till I tell Beth
, I thought. Then Alex moved his mouth to say another word. Now he was trying to say “Dad,” but the
d
sound requires the tongue, an oral maneuver that was yet too difficult for him. But it was a great triumph nonetheless. Alex glowed while he talked about the angels, his yes answers indicated by huge smiles rather than moving the corner of his mouth like he normally did.

Alex saying his first word—was this why Alex’s angels came? I believe it was. Does this sound strange? If it is hard for you to read this and believe, you should try typing it. Imagine how I feel. I come from a conservative evangelical context. These events are not part of my experience or background, but I can’t deny or ignore that they took place.

I never saw an angel, but without the slightest doubt or hesitation, I am certain that I watched my child interacting with them. Margaret shares this conviction. It may sound crazy, but it did happen. I’ll leave the explanations to the theologians.

From Alex
Angels Helping Me
I trust him with all my heart. He helps me, and my heart is filled with joy. I burst out in songs of thanksgiving.
Psalm 28:7I had seen a lot of angels in Heaven, but that was when I wasn’t in my body.After two months I finally came out of my coma, but I couldn’t talk. I knew what I wanted to say, but I couldn’t say it. That was really hard. I could pucker my lips to say no and curl the corner of my mouth to say yes. I could also roll my eyes, which meant “I don’t know.” But that was all.One night about two weeks after I came out of my coma, Daddy and another friend named Margaret were with me. I was tired and didn’t feel like trying to answer questions, so Daddy and Margaret were just talking to each other.Then something happened. I saw angels in my room. They were everywhere. That made me have a really huge smile. I never keep my mouth open for very long, but now I couldn’t shut it.I was so happy that the angels came, but there were so many of them, I was a little scared, too. Daddy had never seen me smile like that, and he tried to figure out what I was doing.Daddy started asking me a whole lot of questions to try to understand. It took a long time, but finally Daddy said, “Alex, do you see angels?” I smiled even bigger, and then Daddy and Margaret knew there were angels in my room.I couldn’t stop looking at them. Then the angels started to help me.Some of the angels put their hands on my chest and were helping me breathe. Other angels started to help me talk. I started to try to make words with my mouth and all of a sudden, I said “Mom.” When that word came out, I was very happy and said it over and over. I then tried to form the word