The Boy Who Came Back from Heaven: A Remarkable Account of Miracles, Angels, and Life Beyond This World (8 page)

Dave Knopp, paramedic

In the midst of all the joy of being together, my eyes moved from one child to another, then to Beth, but my mind wandered into the future of mounting bills. If it seems that my thoughts seesawed between keeping my mind on Jesus, the amazing financial provision God had made, and the mountain of trials we were climbing—that’s exactly how it was. At one point, I triumphed in faith; at another time, I allowed the angry waves to obscure the Redeemer. I used to read the stories of the Israelites and wonder,
How could those ungrateful people have been so quick to take their eyes off God after all the miraculous things He did for them?
I didn’t have to wonder anymore. I was just like them.

Yet, in the midst of all these temporal concerns, we were about to see the world we were living in collide with the world Alex was experiencing.

As December approached, so many incredible things had happened since the accident that we sensed that, other than Alex’s complete recovery, the biggest events were behind us. There had already been more than enough cause for praise. After all, Alex was alive, and we felt that we were being held firmly in the loving hands of God. We had experienced love and spiritual support, not to mention material support, in a manner we had not thought possible. God’s fountain of supply seemed never ending.

Hillbilly had said he sensed the Spirit of God moving in a powerful way. We were soon to be plunged deeply into a world I had known only superficially.

Science Is Confounded

Alex’s first surgery came during the month of the accident. A hole needed to be cut in his throat—a stoma—so that a ventilator could be attached and the tubes could be removed from his throat. This operation is called a tracheotomy. The surgeons would also make a small hole for a stomach tube, through which he could receive fluids and medication, as he had no ability to swallow.

How I longed to see Alex without all those monitors, machines, tubes, and wires! When the medical staff began unhooking him for the surgery, however, I became increasingly anxious. Alex needed all that stuff to survive. Could I trust that they really knew what they were doing? Silly question, I know, but in the moment, all of this was quite unnerving. As a parent looking on with absolutely no power to protect, to expedite the situation, or to keep my child safe, the feeling of helplessness was unavoidable.

Even so, from the first day of the crisis, we took every opportunity to hug Alex, speak comforting words to him, and generally treat him as if he fully understood everything. We decided from the beginning to treat him the same as our other children. We spoke to Alex as if his eyes were open and he were listening, nodding, and smiling—just not offering replies. We encouraged him. We told him that God was with him. Our words were truer and more wonderful than we could possibly have guessed.

The surgery went well, according to the doctors who filled us in later. Alex now had two new holes in his body. The medical experts had never thought he would make it far enough to have these procedures. We believed the surgery was simply one more positive step in getting our son back.

As Alex’s condition stabilized a bit, the doctors began exploring next steps. They had told us early on that they eventually planned to fuse the vertebrae in Alex’s neck. Without surgical intervention, they said, his neck would never be stable.

By the end of November, they were considering an interim step: attaching a “halo” brace to Alex’s head that would hold his neck in place. They scheduled an MRI of Alex’s neck for November 30; later that same day, they told us, they might attach the halo. This brace, a metal ring that secures to the skull with pins, would keep his head and neck immobile and could aid in healing the area of greatest injury.

For the doctors, these options were exciting possibilities. For Beth and me they both seemed like steps in the wrong direction. We were holding out for the big victory. We were praying for full healing.

The doctors continued their deliberations, unaware of our struggles. After examining the results of Alex’s MRI, they decided to scrap the halo plan. Yet they continued to consider the vertebrae fusion.

The downside to the surgery was that Alex would never regain full movement in his neck—and what would that mean when he was fully healed? This issue didn’t concern the medical staff. We weren’t really certain what to do, so we talked it over, prayed, and decided to give the surgeons the green light. A date was set, and the army of prayer warriors again assumed their fighting stance—on their knees.

And then we received stunning news. By the end of December, the doctors concluded the vertebrae had healed well without intervention, or rather without
medical
intervention. “We’re not sure what happened,” the neurosurgeon told me, “but we don’t need to do the surgery.”

I was ecstatic! “That’s okay, Doctor,” I told him. “We understand; in fact, we know what happened. There is a Physician who has been healing people since the beginning of time, and Alex is one of His patients.”

The word went out to Alex’s Army. They rejoiced. But they were not surprised.

We were confident that God had intervened in time and space, responding to the prayers of the saints. Sometime later we discovered other intriguing events that occurred around the same time.

Not long after the surgery was scheduled and then canceled, we heard from Sue, who wanted to tell us about her own experience with Alex. The story she related constituted another miracle in our remarkable experience—and preceded still another miracle.

Visitors in the Night

We’d seen people doing the work of angels—calling 911, climbing into the car to pray with Alex, riding in the helicopter, even showing up to serve God by working on our home. But Sue’s report indicated we were moving into a new arena—one I had no direct experience with.

Sue had responded to an early appeal for prayer warriors who would be willing to stay with Alex overnight. On one such evening, she quietly entered Alex’s room and settled in a chair opposite his bed. She spent the next few hours reading to Alex and praying for him. At around 3 a.m., as her head was bowed in prayer, she heard the sounds of water flowing from the faucet in Alex’s room. That seemed a little odd to her, but since there were no doors in the ICU units, she assumed that one of the nurses had come in to Alex’s room and was washing her hands. Finally, she couldn’t help herself and looked up, only to see that no one was there.

She bowed her head again, and after a few moments the sound of flowing water filled Alex’s room for a second time. She looked up—nothing. She went back to prayer. And for the third time she heard water flowing. When she looked up, she saw nothing. Though she thought it was strange, she was there for a specific purpose, so she resumed praying.

Then she was suddenly filled with the knowledge, in her spirit, that there were three angels present in the room, standing behind Alex, with their hands on his neck. She wasn’t looking—she saw nothing with her eyes—but she
knew
and
felt
their presence.

Before leaving, one of the angels told her, “There is more to do, but this is all for now.” Sue told us she was convinced that angels were ministering to and looking after Alex—especially in the middle of the night.

Beth read and reread Sue’s e-mail. We were both caught up in a sense of wonder that angels had visited our son and that our friend, who hadn’t seen them, was as confident they were there as if she had. It’s easy to discount this sort of thing, but there was more information for us to consider. Upon pondering that e-mail, Beth wondered about the timing of the events Sue reported. She pulled out the prayer/visiting schedule and began poring over the dates for people staying overnight with Alex. The information was easily available because every detail of this prayer ministry was highly organized.

When Beth found that night’s record, she called me over. “Look at this, Kevin. The record is right here. Sue was praying over Alex the evening before doctors planned on putting the halo on Alex. The angels were there the evening before that procedure was . . . canceled.” Beth looked into my eyes with a quiet, confident expression as if to say, “It’s happening.”

A surge of hope coursed through me.
Oh, God, help my unbelief. You are the God of miracles.

A few days later the phone rang.

“Hello,” answered Beth.

“Hello, my name is Melissa. I’m so sorry to bother you, but I had to call you. It’s about Alex. I’ve been praying for him.”

“It’s no bother at all. We greatly appreciate everyone who is lifting him up in prayer.”

“Well, I don’t want to take you off guard, but something has happened, and I wanted to tell you about it. Is this a good time?”

“Sure. What’s on your mind?”

“I’ve had a vision . . . from God . . . about Alex and angels. I’m an artist, and I had to paint the vision. May I send it to you? I’d like you to have it.”

“Sure, we’d love to see it.”

After Sue’s experience, the idea of visions from God was less jarring than it would have been prior to this entire ordeal. We were eager to see what this woman had painted—what she was sure God had shown her.

When the package containing the painting arrived, we carefully unwrapped it. After the last piece of tissue paper was gingerly removed, we stared, awestruck at the image. Clearly depicted were three angels standing behind Alex’s bed with their hands on his neck. For the longest time, we just sat and stared, drinking in the amazing encouragement of our awesome God. God truly had sent angels to minister to Alex.

We soon got on the phone with Sue. She had never met nor spoken with the artist. Beth described the painting in detail. Sue, too, was amazed as she confirmed that the painting captured exactly what God had revealed to her during her prayer watch. We were reminded of Jesus’ words in Matthew 18:10 about little children: “For I tell you that in heaven their angels are always in the presence of my heavenly Father.”

We scanned the picture and posted it on PrayforAlex.com so that everyone could be blessed by it. More than ever, it was clear that God was involved in our situation in a remarkable way and that the result of it was that the Lord would be glorified. Our hope for the future continued to build.

We give thanks to God for Alex’s angels.

Awakening

As the holiday season ended and a new year began, Alex’s long sleep continued. His body was still with us; his spirit, unaccounted for. We held on in faith that God would bring him back to us, but there was another looming issue. The hospital medical staff was deliberating about where they would send Alex. They wanted to discharge him, but where? The conversation took on an awkward tone. Everyone other than the ICU staff seemed afraid of the ventilator and the issues surrounding it.

Finally, the doctors began talking about sending Alex to the rehabilitation unit. Beth and I couldn’t make sense of that idea—how do you rehabilitate a child in a coma? We soon discovered the answer: you don’t. You “rehab” the parents. This was going to be all about training us, so that we could eventually take Alex home.