My dear, dear community of family and friends,

I can't begin to express my profound gratitude for all of you and how difficult it is to sit down and write this journal entry. 

On Tuesday morning Karl had a middle cerebral artery stroke and was admitted to Harris Hospital. Sometime today he will be moving to an inpatient rehabilitation facility in Fort Worth to begin occupational therapy, physical therapy, and speech therapy. Karl is eating, drinking, and talking much better than when he was first admitted. His left side is very weak, and it will take some time to restore his health.

I am mindful of where he was a year ago and would have likely died without the surgery in October. This perch- knowing such a thing and living through such a thing-- is a beautiful perspective. Life is itself a great gift, given and sustained by God. I am full of gratitude that over the last six months, Karl has been getting better every day. His stamina was growing. His concentration was improving. He was diligent with his therapy four days a week. He transitioned off methadone and was able to sustain a longer and longer span of attention. We traveled to see families in Michigan and North Carolina. We saw the new baseball stadium. We began attending a new church together at First Pres in Dallas. He preached at Broadway Baptist on May 5th. We fought over mowing the lawn. He had the best bloodwork and test results a few weeks ago. I was beginning to have a full partner in life. How fun! The gratitude list goes on!

This isn't the first time nor the last time I have sat in the emergency room wondering if Karl was going to die. While God did not choose this journey for us, it is abundantly clear that God is using it in countless ways to strengthen my faith and find the blessings in the journey. When the USCD medical team said yes, they unbeknownst gave us another gift. It clearly is better to have a stroke while not on 14 liters of oxygen dying on hospice, right?  

Karl shared the top ten things he learned when he was dying when he preached at Broadway. I won't give them away, but I wanted to share one of his reflections: Friends and congregations are God’s life-preservers.

We can't thank you enough for your continued support, your well wishes, for your prayers, for your patience. 

The move to rehab will bring us one step closer to home. Then, one step closer to begin again figuring out what God's been up to over the years. Karl has been given some amazing opportunities and I am hopeful this will continue to motivate and inspire him while he goes through another recuperation and recovery.

I will conclude with Karl's benediction at Broadway and may God's peace be present and palpable to you, in your heart, in your home, in your relationships.

God speaks to each of us as he makes us,
then walks with us silently out of the night.

These are the words we dimly hear:

You, sent out beyond your recall,
go to the limits of your longing.
Embody me.

Flare up like a flame
and make big shadows I can move in.

Let everything happen to you: beauty and terror.
Just keep going. No feeling is final.
Don’t let yourself lose me.

Nearby is the country they call life.
You will know it by its seriousness.

Give me your hand.

From Rilke’s Book of Hours: Love Poems to God.

With profound gratitude and love,

Jaci