Steve Ruetschle

The following is from Steve’s parents-in-law, Rob and Richenda Van Leeuwen.  10 August, 2010.

Dear Steve,

Two days back in Bethesda, two sleepless nights, living with the hollowness that missing you has left in us. Our week with you at Harborview was what I have called “precious time,” for two reasons.

First and foremost, you made it so for us. Even as you struggle, with God and hope at your sides, on the journey and its hurdles ahead of you, there is a rarely beautiful aura that emanates from you and inspires and lifts up all those who love you and, in our various ways, try to help. This is truly precious.

The second reason is that you remind us, in all the time we had the gift of spending with you, of the unmatched joy that lies in total love and giving to someone other than ourselves. Although the idea is familiar, we need to be reminded of its powerful reality. Our time with you did that in an all-pervasive way. It liberated us from all things less important in this life and brought out in sharp relief those that are really important.

And so, you see, counter-intuitive as this may be, these life-altering circumstances can perhaps be seen in the grace of God as altering us all toward a better state. The only thing I can remember in this light that comes somewhere near this is my year in the Vietnam War that, in its darkest horrors, at times brought out the finest qualities of humankind.

You are an extarordinarily fine person, Steve. Kind, courageous, loving, compassionate and determined to do all that is in your power to recover from your injury. Within you there is a wide, sunlit space that does not and will not yield to the darkness of despondency, let alone despair. In that space, every day we were with you, we found the quiet smiles and laughter, the light of humor that lifts our spirit and cannot be snuffed out.

Even though we are now on the other coast, there is no geography of love. It envelops you even at times when you may feel alone.

We admire you, we miss you and we love you, your other half Michelle, and Aidan, Jude and Zephyr (zucchini).

- Rob and Richenda

From Michelle.  5 August, 2010  11 p.m.

Dear friends and family,

I snuck in tonight to a sleeping Steve and will likely sneak out before he is awake.  Still, it is good to feel his presence.  Even in the midst of his own suffering, Steve is an enormous comfort to me, always checking in, always encouraging, and ever sweetness itself!  I am nourished by him even now.

Yesterday was a sweet day.  After a busy morning moving, setting up our new home and generally running with details, my mother, father, stepmother and all three boys congregated at the hospital with Steve and I for a special treat.  A group of worship leaders at UPC were coming to serenade Steve (and us!) with a private concert in our hospital room!   Ten wonderful souls squeezed into our room to sing songs with us, filling the room with praise.  It was all I could do not to weep unreservedly, not because I was sad, but because I was witnessing the beauty of faith lived out: joining in affirming love and hope in a hospital room, life in death, joy in sorrow.  While some of those present were known to me, others were not, and that too has been a uniquely moving and distinctive blessing during this time, to know the love of strangers.  We have received many messages, meals and helping hands from people we have never or barely met, drawn by shared sorrows, or by shared friends, and mostly by shared prayers.  I have been deeply moved by this precious love of strangers.  Many a good Samaritan has lifted us and carried us down this road.  There are also the strangers-yet-friends down the hall, Mark and Kathy, fellow believers barely known to us, but who joined us in song yesterday, singing with failing lungs and crippled hands, but singing nonetheless.  No doubt those voices carried down the hall to cheer many a soul!  It was a moving sight!

Afterward, Steve and I walked the children to the car.  As we walked, Zephyr reached out his hand to take Steve’s.  What sweetness to see the boy and his father, walking and rolling, hand in hand, love still sprouting in that little heart, undeterred by the chair!

It is late, and there is much to do in the morning, but for now I am, quite simply, wanting to briefly share one of the many miracles that I am privileged to experience daily: love among strangers and joy amidst ashes.

With love,
Michelle

From Michelle, 3 August, 2010  10 a.m.

Dear friends and family,

I realized this morning that it has been a long time since I gave a more specific update about Steve’s physical condition.  This is difficult as we continue to move at a seemingly snail’s pace, yet in the right direction.  I never know how optimistic to be as I paint the medical picture without the medical expertise.

The good news is, Steve is more and more able to move his legs against gravity.  These are tiny increments of progress, however.  For example, this morning, with extreme effort, Steve was able to lift his knee off the bed, but by the third repetition of the exercise his muscle was entirely finished.  It also means that with great effort Steve can move his foot several millimeters in his wheelchair foot mount.

Steve’s fingers bend slightly more, but he still does not have the strength to meaningfully pinch something of any significant weight in order to lift it, a skill he is practicing in order to self catheterize himself, which will give him a little bit more independence.  He is also unable to fully straighten them or wiggle them with any ease.

This morning the physical therapist asked Steve to close his eyes and determine whether she was bending his big toes up, middle or down, which he was only able to do with intermittent success.

Steve’s right shoulder, the site of a former tennis injury, has been giving him trouble, slowing down his upper body exercises, which he needs to practice balancing sitting up, learning to roll himself over, and ultimately to work on transitioning himself from his wheelchair to his bed.

Steve has done several interesting exercises that we hope will assist his progress.  He has tried a special bicycle that assists him in peddling, prompting his muscles when they tire with electrical impulses.  It was a beautiful thing to watch his legs move, even with assistance.

Steve also stood up for the first time.  By this I do not mean that he was able to propel his body upward to standing, but that with the help of a machine, he was able to straighten out his trunk while his legs were held up in a straight position.  His blood pressure dropped quickly, however, so he was forced to return to the chair.  The feeling of standing upright, however brief, was exhilarating, and we pray that he will be able to enjoy the position for longer next time.

Yesterday Steve had more spasms than normal, his legs felt heavy and he was tired.  We decided to transition to bed early and he had one of his first naps in a very long time.  This morning he feels a bit better.

Please pray for patience and endurance for Steve as he continues to press on with faith and determination, but with occasional set backs.  Please pray boldly with me that his shoulder heals, that his body continues to show encouraging signs of progress and that his spirits would remain high.  Steve also asks for specific prayers that his bladder and bowel control would return.  The doctors are discussing removing his catheter this weekend to see what bladder control he might have.  This could either be highly encouraging or extremely discouraging depending on the outcome.  Steve will also be trying his manual wheelchair for the second time today if his shoulder holds out.  Please pray that he is able to achieve this goal.  Please also pray that I would support him well.  We are moving this week, preparing to sell our home next week and packing up in Manila, among other things, so I am unusually stretched.

Nevertheless, we rejoice in the overwhelming blessings surrounding us, not the least of which is your prayers and support!  We taste and see that the Lord is good, especially through your wonderful messages and many practical acts of support.  Thank you, thank you, thank you!  We continue to be amazed by our furnished home, the food that magically arrives on our doorstep, the people driving extra hours (in Seattle traffic!) to pick up our children for day camps and play dates, the help with moving on both sides of the world, the cards that show up every day at the hospital, the many posts (I read every one!), the amazing financial generosity, and the beautiful prayers lifted up on our behalf.  We are literally overwhelmed with goodness!

My verse for today comes from Romans 12:12: “Rejoice in hope, be patient in tribulation, be constant in prayer.”

Love,

Michelle

P.S.  I cannot resist adding a photo of our boys, our three living, breathing reasons to persist and endure!

31 July, 2010  11 p.m.

Dear friends and family,

Today was a good day.  Steve and I went on our first date.  We had been trying for weeks to rendezvous in the cafeteria for a short meal to no avail, but now a much more spectacular opportunity arose and we snatched it.  Steve got his first “day pass” which permits him to leave the hospital.  Just three blocks away is the Frye Museum, a small, free art museum in a lovely modern building, housing an eclectic collection.  This was a good “beginner” outing, not too far from the hospital should some medical emergency arise, but sufficiently removed to give us a taste of both normalcy and inspiration.

The sun shone for us, and we strolled and rolled together over the fairly accommodating sidewalks to the museum.  A whole world of details opened up.  I noticed curbs: their height, their distance, the degree of disrepair.  There were funny little anomalies.  A door inside the museum opened with a wheelchair accessible button but the adjoining door to the outside did not.  Tables were too high or too low.  Hallways were wide or narrow; doorways also.  A seemingly insignificant crack in the sidewalk became a disturbingly daunting hindrance to the wheelchair.

Nevertheless, we laughed and we strolled and we enjoyed the intimate conversations we have so often shared over our Monday lunchtime dates in Manila.  We audaciously edited the masterpiece paintings, dismissed the same ones and paused to reflect on the same ones.  Steve reinforced his reputation as a coffee lover by not only enjoying his first cup of coffee since the accident, but also his second and third (decaf!)…  all in one sitting.  It was a landmark moment, one we will not quickly forget.

Tomorrow we will venture even further.  We – thanks to our recreational therapists – have become acquainted with the mechanics of our wheelchair accessible van, and I will be taking Steve out for a drive!  First things first, a visit to our new home!  We will be moving in this week, if all goes according to plan, and Steve will enjoy visualizing his ultimate destination.  I cannot wait to see Steve’s face as he wheels his way around our beautiful, wheelchair accessible home.  We are still pinching ourselves!

These are the joys of our “new normal”, the amazing provisions, the love that remains.  We are thankful for so much.  There is, however, much that still merits your prayers.  We have not yet set up the many details of home life that will ensue.  While the beauty of our surroundings will be a balm, the adjustment to daily life with paralysis will be significant.  We have to find and train caregivers, work with our social workers to set up whatever state assistance we qualify for, work with our occupational and physical therapists on the myriad equipment needs, arrange for any childcare support and continue to develop skills for daily living as much as possible.  I am currently supervising the packing up of our house in Manila, which is not only extremely demanding in its details but also very emotional as we watch a life we loved move into boxes.  Next week, I will meet with the realtor to put our Seattle house on the market.  I am also managing the details of moving into our new rental home.  Schools have been closed so I have not yet secured a place for our children for this coming year.  God continues to move before us in these and many other details, and we covet your prayers as we take each step.

Spiritually, my heart is working out a keen sense of perspective.  While our situation is deeply challenging, I am aware that there are many, many that are worse.  While it is fruitless to compare, I am grateful for the sense that while we suffer, we are also blessed.  The evidence lies all around, both in the very corridors of this hospital and in our fresh memories of Manila, and beyond.  We eat well, we are warm, and Steve’s spirit and mental abilities remain intact.  On our floor there are people with head injuries who are unrecognizable to their loved ones, people with burn injuries, people who struggle to breathe on their own.  While we are surrounded by love and prayers, other patients are noticeably alone.  A comment on a post mentioned a niece dying of cancer and asked for prayers.  Many others have generously shared their losses in commiseration with our own.  My life lesson in Ephesians 4 continues, layer by layer, as I find peace in the thanksgiving, despite the evident suffering.  What I am most thankful for is the continued sense of God’s steadfast love in the midst of this crisis.  I feel this as a mercy, an unearned grace from above, and pray that it never leaves me.  In that spirit, I leave you with a verse from Isaiah, 54:10: “For the mountains may depart and the hills be removed, but my steadfast love shall not depart from you, and my covenant of peace shall not be removed.”  I cling to that promise.

May God’s love and peace be with us all.

Love,

Michelle

From Mark Ruetschle (Steve’s brother).  29 July, 2010.

We are happy to report that on-line donations are now available.  Please select the tab “Donate to Steve” on the website.  Since we have also had many requests for on-going monthly donations you will find this option too. Monthly giving is especially valuable as it can provide a steady stream of much needed financial help through this next year.

We invite you to click here to read how the fundraising effort is structured, and how the funds will be used.

We are all in awe of the generosity and love that has been poured out.  Thank you, to each and every one of you.

It’s hard to imagine 5 weeks have passed since my brother’s accident. These life altering weeks have certainly made an impact on many lives. If someone had told me just a month ago that I would be the Trustee of The Steven Lowell Ruetschle Special Needs Trust, I wouldn’t believe it but am honored to serve.  I was hoping to spending some “quality” time with my brother while he was on his summer vacation, little did I know God had other plans.

While we will never understand the “why” in a situation.  It’s the “what” that really matters.  This reminds me of the Letter of Paul to the Philippians 1:12.  “I want you to know, beloved that “what” has happened to me has actually helped to spread the gospel.”  This is something I have witnessed first hand, hearing my brother calling out to the Lord when he experienced such incredible pain hours immediately after his first neck surgery.  I also learned that Steve would ask for the name of each person who was taking care of him like the medics, pilots, doctors, and nurses like Darlene and would praise them and say “thank you so much for taking care of me”.  Even in the toughest of times Steve & Michelle are still shining their light for all of us to see.

Steve even developed his own special wave, a new trend he wanted to start on the east coast just to see if it would follow him to the west coast.  He would fling his arm forward so his limp fingers would extend and open.  He was showing his great sense of humor even under the toughest of circumstances.

We thank God for his continued healing, especially the news about Steve beginning to move his toes and right foot.   We sang the Song Of Hope this Sunday morning and I couldn’t stop thinking of brother Steve as I sang….

All things bright and beautiful You are
All things wise and wonderful You are
In my darkest night, You brighten up the skies
A song will rise
I will sing a song of hope
Sing along
God of heaven come down
Heaven come down
Just to know that You are near is enough
God of heaven come down, heaven come down
All things new
I can start again
Creator, God
Calling me Your friend
Sing praise, my soul
To the Maker of the skies
A song will rise
I will sing a song of hope
Sing along
God of heaven come down
Heaven come down
Just to know You and be loved is enough
God of heaven come down, heaven come down
Hallelujah, sing
Hallelujah, sing
Hallelujah, sing

It’s truly amazing how God has continued to provide for each and every need as they arise.  The story of finding an accessible house to rent during Steve’s recovery is simply a God thing.  Another God thing is the financial gifts.  A tear rolled down my cheek when I opened the first Steven Lowell Ruetschle Special Needs Trust check.  It was sent from a wonderful Christ Church family, Steve’s childhood home church and one that I still faithfully attend.  I personally called to let her know their check was the first one to arrive and how much that meant.

Many of you know, we have set up a Trust for Steve & Michelle’s needs as they faithfully navigate through Steve’s recovery.   Because of numerous requests we have created an on-line donation to make contributions easier than sending checks in the mail.  So if you are interested in making a donate on-line please check out the new link on the website.  Again the entire Ruetschle family wants to express our deepest gratitude for these gifts.  While our family has certainly stumbled into these unchartered waters we humbly thank each and everyone for your prayers and support of The Steven Lowell Ruetschle Special Needs Trust fund.

God Bless,
Mark Ruetschle
Trustee

From Darlene Ruetschle (Steve’s mom). 28 July, 2010. 12:20pm.

On June 17th a little after 6:00PM we received a call that all parents dread. Steve had been in a terrible accident on the Blue Ridge Parkway and was care-flighted to Missions Hospital in Asheville, NC.

When we reflect back on the past six weeks we realize this has been the worst nightmare any parent can imagine. But through it all we can see God’s timing has been perfect and He has supplied our every need.

In God’s perfect timing the accident happened at a place where Steve could be care flighted to a nearby Hospital with an excellent Trauma Center.

In God’s perfect timing the very best neurosurgeon happened to be on call to perform Steve’s emergency surgery and was able to do his second surgery a week later.

In God’s perfect timing Mark and Laura’s family had a trip planned with her family to Hilton Head and graciously offered to take Steve and Michelle’s three boys to the beach for a week. This freed us up to be with Steve and Michelle in Asheville. We lived for those 5 times a day when we could visit with Steve for a brief 30-minutes. We gathered around his bed and each of us would rub an arm or a leg, which brought him so much comfort. How difficult to see our son suffering with such pain, unable to move most of his body and experiencing the hallucinations of the pain medications.

Michelle was so loving and gentle with him that the nurses allowed her to spend the night several times, which had to be by the grace of God. We were so grateful that Michelle’s brother David was able to be there with us along with our other three children and their spouses.

After one week we returned to Ohio with Steve’s 3 sons to care for them and make their life as normal as possible. It was very difficult to leave Steve and Michelle and we told Michelle with tears running down our faces that there was not another woman in the whole world that we would have picked to be our son’s wife. She has been strong, courageous, gentle, devoted and displayed unconditional love for our son. We have all been inspired by her beautiful writings on the website as she keeps us informed of Steve’s progress.

In God’s perfect timing it was made clear that Harborview Medical Center in Seattle ranked among the top three in the nation, was where Steve needed to go for his intensive rehab. Steve had served on the staff at UPC, First Presbyterian of Belleview and Antioch Church in Seattle before going to Union Church of Manila as their Senior Pastor for the past 5 years. Therefore he had a huge network of loving and caring friends to support them.

In God’s perfect timing the house they owned in Seattle was available as they had lost their renters and were planning to sell it this summer. A very dear and generous friend bought brand new furniture for their home and the generous people of UPC Church furnished all the special touches and filled the refrigerator with yummy food. Flowers were planted in the yard and pictures of the family filled up the rooms.

We are grateful to Union Church of Manila for providing airfare so we could return their sons to Seattle to reunite with their Mama and Papa after being with us for two weeks. Even with the distance UCM has been so supportive of Steve and Michelle. Larry Caldwell from the church council was able to spend three days with Steve at the hospital and several other friends from Manila who were vacationing in the States were able to see Steve. The prayers, love and support from his home church have been comforting.

In God’s perfect timing Michelle’s mother Niclaa was able to come over from the Netherlands to be with the children so we could return home for a much-needed rest.

In God’s perfect timing a handicapped accessible house was provided for a year’s lease, truly a miracle from the Lord.

In God’s perfect timing a handicapped accessible van has been given to them.

The list goes on and on.

As Steve’s parents, we are humbled and in awe of how God is using the body of Christ to provide for their every need. Please accept our heartfelt gratitude for all these generous gifts of love and to the multitudes of you from every corner of the world who have been praying without ceasing.

We are so grateful that Mike and Heather have been able to be with Steve for three weeks. To watch Mike brush Steve’s teeth, floss his teeth or feed him when he is tired brings tears to our eyes.

How can we ever thank you enough, Sean, for your dedication and unconditional love in caring for Steve and Michelle.

Steve, Michelle, Aidan, Jude and Zephyr… even though our bodies are in Ohio we have left our hearts with all of you in Seattle and look forward to seeing you in September.

Steve, dear son, we are so proud of all you have accomplished and we believe God will restore you fully in His perfect timing.

Your loving Mom and Dad.

Eph. 3:20 “Now to Him who is able to do far more abundantly beyond all that we ask or think, according to the power that works within us, to Him be the glory in the church and in Christ Jesus to all generations forever and ever. Amen.”

From Sean. June 26, 2010.

I arrived at the hospital today just as Steve was saying goodbye to a beloved friend. I left the hospital a few hours later as Steve and Michelle were enjoying time with friends visiting from New York. In between, other beloved friends from Manila also stopped by. It was Sunday, a rest day, and while Steve’s rest is still a priority, he just loves people.

Steve and Michelle are rich in friends. And I know firsthand that many of these friends are quite different from one another; they are from diverse parts of the globe, with different languages, cultures, personalities, and even different faiths. There are no doubt multiple reasons why so many have chosen to surround the Ruetschles with unceasing prayer, kindness, and generosity. Lately I’ve been thinking of just one of those reasons.

In one form or another, most every website comment, guestbook-or-facebook post, letter written, or personal visit has included some assurance of prayer. Or many times, actual prayer. Thousands around the world regularly stop and pray for Steve; interceding on his behalf. Some write in, claiming to know exactly what God is going to do for Steve; others are not so sure; but in every case they are all generously and passionately interceding for him.

Metropolitan Anthony Bloom, in his book “Beginning to Pray”, wrote:

“Interceding does not mean reminding God of things he has forgotten to do. It is placing ourselves at the heart of a troubled situation…. We often intercede. We pray to God to be merciful and kind to those in need. But intercession is more than this.”

“Intercede” comes from the Latin, intercedere, meaning literally to “go between.”

Metropolitan Bloom goes on to talk about presence. That,

“being present in the heart of a troubled situation alters it profoundly because God is then present with us through our faith. Wherever we are, at home with our family, with friends when a quarrel is about to begin, at work or even simply in the street… we can recollect ourselves and say, ‘Lord I believe in you, come and be among us’. And by this act of faith… we can intercede with God who has promised his presence when we ask for it.”

This last week of Steve’s physical rehab has been, well, incredible. Each day brought something new… movement from a toe; the wiggle of a finger; a trip to the zoo; the ability to lift a leg ever so slightly. These small movements have been very encouraging for Steve (for everyone!). And yet in context (and without diminishing the encouragement!) this is still “a troubled situation“.

So often, when tragedy strikes people respond with the most common of phrases… “I can’t imagine…”. Personally, when hearing that phrase I often doubt the truth of it. As I see it, people actually have rather remarkable imaginations. We can, in fact, imagine a great deal. And when we can imagine, we can be present with just that much more compassion and capacity.

With many of the out-of-town (or out-of-country) guests who have come to visit Steve, there are moments when… in order not to develop pressure sores, Steve has to be turned in his bed by the nurses; or he has to be hoisted out of bed in a sling and placed in his wheelchair; or his catheter bag has to be emptied; or he’s so tired that he needs someone to feed him. Without fail the friends in the room are gracious, strong, and kind in the moment, but I can see in their eyes that they are in fact imagining Steve’s (and his family’s) suffering. And they not only imagine, but also clearly choose to place themselves in the heart of a troubled situation, in order to intercede on his behalf with both their presence and their prayer.

Many around the world have said that they are praying for Steve because in one way or another he “interceded”… placed himself in the heart of a troubled situation… for them. “Prayer is the end of isolation.” We carry one another’s burdens. And whether it’s a little girl in Indonesia, or a pastor in Uganda, or a business owner in Seattle, or a professor in the Philippines, or a sunday school class in Tokyo, or a mom and dad in Ohio; a community of people around the world has been formed to help carry Steve’s burdens through prayer.

And ultimately, it’s not the “power of prayer” that must not be underestimated; it is the power of the One who is love, and who so loved the world, and who’s presence alters each of us as we intercede for one another, wherever or whoever we are, in all of our mutual suffering and vulnerability.