The Boy Who Came Back from Heaven: A Remarkable Account of Miracles, Angels, and Life Beyond This World (11 page)

It had been several months since Columbus Children’s had become our home away from home. The ministry of God’s people had kept our lives from completely unraveling, and we were deeply grateful. But by this time, home was where we needed to be. The prospect of taking Alex home required three things. He had to be stable and strong; Beth and I had to be ready (knowledgeable enough) to care for him; and our house had to be ready to shelter us.

I continued to believe that Alex would breathe on his own before he left that hospital. It didn’t happen. A new trach tube helped with the discomfort Alex was feeling with the breathing equipment, but he really wanted to be free of it. He was also becoming stiff and needed stretching to keep his body limber.

Throughout all this, Alex never lost his sense of humor, which he had brought with him out of his coma. He playfully dubbed one of his assistants “Jane the Pain.”

Angels, he assured us, continued to come and go. When the pastor was there praying for him, for example, four were present, though only Alex could see or hear them. (Miles away, we had eight angels of our own up on the roof of our house, but they were the visible and noisy type. We were grateful for their “surgery” on our ailing home.)

After months of living half our lives in the hospital and trying to get everything else done in a parallel universe, Beth and I were wearing down, and our relationship had developed some rough edges. There were many times I wished I could take back sharp words and bad attitudes. I know Beth felt the same. The truth is, at times we exhibited our worst sides to each other, often in earshot of others. We aren’t proud of our behavior, but an honest account of these times mustn’t gloss over the trauma our marriage sustained in the midst of everything else. There were too many demands: caring for Alex, supplying love and physical needs for three other children, getting our house repaired, resuming my business—we knew we couldn’t maintain such a schedule forever. Several times we recommitted ourselves to supporting and leaning on each other, getting enough sleep, and depending upon the prayers of our many supporters.

Stressed but Blessed

In the last days at Children’s Hospital, tensions heightened. Sleep was evasive. We were given a crash course in caring for our son, a quadriplegic on a respirator, and felt inadequately prepared for the challenge. These desperate hours pushed us to the limit and, again, we failed to live up to our ideals of what a Christian marriage should be. Not to make excuses for our sin. But in retrospect we believe we took on too much too soon.

Beth Malarkey, Alex’s mom

Our Internet correspondents thought we’d dropped off the face of the earth. Whenever we got home, we collapsed into bed, only to get up and move on to the next high-priority task after just a few precious hours of sleep. Beth was feeling totally overwhelmed, and I felt helpless in trying to support and encourage her—my own hands were full at the same time. I also worried that I was losing track of my other three children because there simply weren’t enough hours in the day to attend to all my responsibilities.

In those final days at the hospital, Alex was learning to work with computers by himself, and not surprisingly he was very excited by the opportunity. He called the computer Alex 2 and operated it with a switch on his face. He could also use facial muscles to pilot a motorized wheelchair around the hospital. Reports soon filtered back to us that he was wreaking vengeance on Jane the Pain and other personnel, running them down in the hallways.

His attitude continued to amaze everyone. He thought his MRI was fun. He even got the nurses to take him down to the X-ray lab and convinced the technicians to take X-rays of two of his stuffed animals. He showed a gung-ho attitude about the wheelchair and every other new challenge introduced into his world. He labored tirelessly to regain the ability to talk. Everyone who saw Alex strive and fight for every inch of ground was encouraged, including his parents.

During this time, however, Alex began to feel some pain for what he had lost. After prayer one night, he told us he wished he could ride his bike. As his limbs grew stiffer, his memory grew more supple, bringing back all the things he used to do—the trees he once climbed, the games he played, and the bike he rode. His previous, little-boy life gradually came back into focus, only to remind him of what was now beyond his grasp.

The centerpiece of the care regimen Beth and I needed to master was changing Alex’s tracheotomy tube. It was a complex, frightening task at first, but we were soon doing it without a hitch.

Whenever we found ourselves at our wits’ end, God was there waiting to show us a bigger picture, to reveal His plans to us. He humbled us many times, demonstrating how much He loved us, how much He had blessed us.

While Alex was seeing angels in the hospital, we were experiencing God’s angels of a different kind. Eight men worked tirelessly to rebuild our roof better than it was when the tree smashed it. Other volunteers worked to repair problems we had discovered in our new home since the accident. A complete (and very expensive) water filtration system was installed. God’s angel contractors logged countless hours of work for plumbing, vents, and other essential functions in the house.

A donor paid $1,500 for a special mattress that Alex needed. Then, when the owner of the mattress company read about it on our Web site, he called the donor, got his address, and mailed the check back. Someone else supplied us with new appliances.

I’ve only touched the very tip of the iceberg. God’s supplying our needs became so commonplace that we were in danger of taking for granted all that He was doing through His people to meet our needs and show the love that could grow among His children. As the Bible says, “Your love for one another will prove to the world that you are my disciples” (John 13:35).

The day approached for Alex’s return home. The house was ready, but were we? We certainly didn’t feel like it. With baby Ryan in tow, Beth drove to the hospital for the final meeting with the staff on February 14, 2005. I kept up via teleconference as I took care of Gracie and Aaron at home. At this point, there was nothing that worried me more than Beth’s state of mind. She was exhausted mentally, physically, and emotionally, and I worried that through my impatience and insensitivity, I might be contributing to her struggle rather than alleviating it.

Alex would be coming home by ambulance the next morning. He was so excited he could almost have floated home. Instead of waiting for family members to come visit him, he would be with us all the time. When I reminded Alex that he would see his dog, Sadie, for the first time in three months, a huge smile broke out across his face.

Everyone was ecstatic that Alex was coming home, but despite our preparation, we felt as if we weren’t even close to ready for his arrival.

Beth Hears about Heaven

As nurses came in and out of the room, Beth changed Alex’s trach tube, with myriad details swirling in her already overburdened mind. Alex waited until Beth finished and then indicated that he wanted to be alone with Mommy and baby Ryan. The hospital staff respectfully left the room and shut the door.
What is on Alex’s mind?
Beth wondered as she cuddled with him. Alex was at the stage when he could only form words with his mouth and make a faint whisper. Beth leaned in and listened. Alex mouthed, “I want to tell you about the accident.”

“Okay, honey, what do you want to tell me?”

Beth’s voice was even, but her spirit was startled. This was the last topic she expected Alex to talk about in the moments prior to going home. And it was the first time Alex had spoken to us about the day of the accident.

“Jesus came and got me from the car and kept me close to Him the whole time. I was above my body, watching everyone work on me. I was safe. Jesus kept talking to me, telling me I was going to be okay, so I was never afraid.”

At this, a radiant smile bathed Alex’s face. He had wanted so long to share his experience and was now gaining the ability to form the words with his mouth, even if he couldn’t get much sound out of his lips.

“What else did you see?”

“I saw Daddy taken out of the car. The angels set him down in the ditch.”

Beth understood what Alex meant by “taken out.” He was saying that his daddy was never thrown from the car, nor had he wandered out in a daze. Angels had literally carried his body to a safe place.

“Then I saw Daddy yelling my name: ‘Alex! Alex! Alex!’ Daddy didn’t know where I was, and he was worried about me.”

“Did that make you sad, honey?”

“No. I wasn’t sad. I was with Jesus. Then lots more firemen came. One fireman brought Daddy his phone, and I saw him make a call.”

Beth’s mind raced back to the moment of that call. Humanly speaking, Alex had no way of knowing about it.

“Another fireman put something in my mouth to help me breathe. A nurse helped me in the car. The firemen took me out of the car and put me on a flat board. They cut my shirt off. It was my plaid shirt. They took off my shoes, too. Daddy went over to the helicopter to talk with the man in the blue suit.”

“Alex, do you mean an orange suit? I think that’s what he may have been wearing.”

“No, Mommy. It was a blue suit!”

This would have been the man from MedFlight, the air medical transport group that had provided the helicopter. Later Beth asked me about the uniform, because when Dave had spoken to her at the hospital, she was sure he was in an orange suit. But I told her that Alex was right on the money—it was indeed blue.

“I saw the helicopter man bend over me and pray for me. Then they also put Daddy on a flat board before they put him in the ambulance. They cut off his clothes, too.”

All of this was true, and he had no way to know any of it. He had been unconscious from soon after the accident, and by the time the medical personnel were tending to me, he was already in the helicopter, heading to Children’s Hospital.

“Honey, tell me where you went,” Beth continued.

“Mommy, I was with Jesus, but my body, down under me, was not breathing. But Jesus said, ‘You shouldn’t worry. You are going to breathe again.’”

“Did He say when?”

“No, He didn’t.”

“What about angels?”

“They were there too.”

“Do you remember anything else, honey?”

“My Barneys were everywhere!”

Beth laughed. We had almost forgotten about the old cloths he carried around instead of a security blanket. Just as he said, the Barneys had been spread across the scene.

“And I remember the room where they worked on me when I got to the hospital. There were many people. Maybe . . . twenty people? They were all helping to work on me. They all said how bad I was hurt. They were very sad.”

“Did that make you afraid?”

“No. I was never afraid as long as Jesus was with me. Jesus told me I should tell you all about it. ”

“Thanks, honey. I’m really glad you did.”

Beth took a moment to reflect on this amazing conversation and what had led up to it. With too much to do at home, she had not intended to come to the meeting today. She was already at the end of her rope in every conceivable way, and with Alex coming home, life was not going to grow simpler. The plan was for her to stay home and for me to come to the meeting, but we changed our minds at the last minute . . . or, rather, God changed the plan. Jesus had wanted Beth there. Jesus had a message for her through her son Alex.
Okay, Lord
, she thought.
You have my attention. I’m listening.

She had begun that morning feeling overwhelmed, wondering how she could keep going. Now it was revealed so clearly through the mouthed words of a child that God was still in control. His grace was sufficient. Alex had never been afraid because he had been sitting with Jesus. Shouldn’t she be resting in Jesus too? The message couldn’t be more direct. In the quietness of that room, Beth gave silent thanks to God. And as in this moment with Alex, we have found over and over that when we are desperate for God, He is everywhere to be found.