Trapped Within is the true story of what a teenage boy was compelled to endure as the result of a surgical procedure that went wrong and what his family learned from the experience. Kelly Denham, the boy’s mother, tells the story of when God’s unfailing love met unimaginable suffering.
During the years her son was ill, Kelly Denham kept a journal of daily events and later brought the story to life as she processed her own healing. Trapped Within takes readers on a journey with many ups and downs but ultimately leads them to God’s promise that our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all.
Throughout the pages of Trapped Within, readers will wonder how this family endured such tragedy. There are moments of laughter and joy and moments of pain and sorrow. Faith is tested, tears are shed, and grief is shared, bringing readers full circle to the encouraging hope of God’s healing.
Excerpt from Trapped Within:
TJ’s youth pastor and kids from his youth group came back to the room to show their support. They briefly visited with him and then went to the OR waiting room for the long wait. Travis and I stayed with TJ until we were shooed out. As we were leaving the room, I turned around to take one last look at him. He was lying on the gurney making a silly face at me, so I snapped a picture. That would be the last time I ever saw my son whole.
As we walked down the hallway to the waiting room, fear suddenly overcame me. My mind ran the gamut of what ifs, and I burst into tears. Then I became upset with myself for being so dramatic and reassured myself, “They do this all the time. He’s going to be fine. Get it together.” However, unbeknownst to us, our descent into hell had already begun.
Kelly Denham’s hope for readers is that they’ll understand what God’s love truly means and that even in times of suffering and loss, His love never fails.
During TJ’s first hospitalization at Mayo, his diagnosis was unknown. Doctors felt he became low on oxygen during heart surgery and had a hypoxic brain injury or a brainstem stroke, but diagnostic studies did not match his symptoms. Doctors were puzzled. TJ’s unknown condition tormented Travis and me. Questions like “What happened to our son?” and “How can we help him if we don’t know what’s wrong?” plagued us day and night.
Since I had seen TJ walking and talking in Des Moines for a week after his heart surgery, I truly didn’t believe he was as bad as the doctors at Mayo said he was. Nevertheless, they advised us that he probably would go home with major deficits and we needed to start preparing ourselves for that truth.
TJ was admitted into rehab twice at Mayo. After just a few days there, his health declined from lung and intestinal infections, and he unfortunately was sent back to PICU. After four months of battling his brain injury and constantly bouncing from floor to floor, TJ finally went off to rehab for a third time in August of 2013 and finished.
While in rehab, much to everyone’s surprise, TJ began improving rapidly. It was almost as if a light switch in his brain had been flipped on. He was getting stronger and could walk on his own with just one person gently guiding him. He started talking and every once in awhile could blurt out an entire sentence. His eyes were improving, and he was starting to swallow again. TJ’s sense of humor was also back in full force. He enjoyed joking around with his doctors and therapists and was especially fond of tormenting his pediatric physiatrist, Dr. Landry.
Directly across from the bed in TJ’s rehab room was a white board with the names of his rehab doctors and therapists. One morning TJ arose from bed and decided to go for a little stroll across his room. Not knowing what he was up to or where he was going, the nurse’s curiosity was piqued, and she let him lead the way while holding his waist from behind to keep him safe. A very determined TJ, intent on a mischievous mission, walked over to the white board and erased Dr. Landry’s name with his fist. In its place he wrote “Dr. Laundry.”
When I arrived at TJ’s room later that morning, the nurse excitedly — and with a few giggles — retold the story and added, “I wonder how long he has been lying in that bed, staring at that board, and planning to change Dr. Landry’s name?!”
The news of TJ’s mischief spread across the rehab floor, and much to Dr. Landry’s chagrin, medical staff also began referring to him as Dr. Laundry.
A few days later when Dr. Landry entered TJ’s room for morning rounds, TJ was in the bathroom with his nurse. When TJ heard Dr. Landry’s voice, he picked up the dirty laundry from his bathroom floor, and with his nurse in tow, walked out of the bathroom and threw the dirty laundry at Dr. Landry.
And then the battle was on.
Days afterward, when TJ was walking down the hallway with his physical therapist for afternoon therapy, Dr. Landry, walking a short distance ahead of him, suddenly turned around and began shooting TJ with a Nerf gun which left TJ ducking, dodging, and to his therapist’s dismay, trying to chase Dr. Landry down.
Rehab was a blessed time. It was a time of excitement, laughter, and happiness, and it left us with a lot of fond memories. TJ was improving, and we were hopeful again.
As we were nearing TJ’s discharge date, I discussed what his future would look like with staff. Doctors said they saw no reason why his improvement shouldn’t continue. Since he was already doing so well walking, there was no question he would walk on his own again. His speech therapist thought that he would talk again, although his voice might sound different. Swallowing was still very difficult. His therapist was somewhat reluctant to say he would eat again but finally gave in. Doctors thought his eyes would recover but would take up to a year. They felt he would have some coordination issues and things wouldn’t be exactly how they once had been but said he would go to college and do most anything he wanted to do with accommodation.
We were thrilled. TJ was going to have a life again. We had been through four months of uncertainty and unimaginable pain and suffering, but we had gotten through it. We were excited about the future.
On September 3, 2013 four-and-a-half months after surgery, TJ was discharged to home, but when we arrived home, after just a couple of days, he began to decline rapidly. His body was starting to do strange things. His arms were twisting into strange positions, and his walking was getting worse. One person couldn’t walk alone with him anymore.
After another two-and-a-half-week hospitalization in Des Moines for an intestinal infection, his twisting became so severe that his shoulder and wrist were dislocating and he was arching his back so bad that it was cutting off his airway. The twisting lasted all day. The only time he received relief was when he slept at night. His suffering was severe, and there was nothing we could do to help him. In early October, I asked for a transfer back to Mayo, so he was loaded up onto a helicopter and flown to Mayo for a second time. After diagnostic testing was completed, doctors were perplexed because according to the MRI, the part of the brain that would cause these movements didn’t show any injury. Doctors were unable to explain why this was happening.
About a year later, TJ finally came home to live, but he never recovered back to his prior condition at Mayo. He was never able to walk on his own again. His arms were twisted over his head most days and unusable. His eyes didn’t move well, swallowing was minimal, his mouth was hard to open, and only twice in four years did we ever hear him speak again.
Many times since, Travis and I have wondered why, after all we had been through, God would give us so much hope in rehab only to take it away again a short time later. After six years of wondering why, we still don’t know the answer to that question.
If I didn’t know God better, I could easily mistake the reason for His silence and believe that He is a cruel, uncaring, detached God who must not love me.
However, that is not the God I know.
Because the God I know says He loves me with an everlasting love. (Jeremiah 31:3)
The God I know leads me in paths of righteousness. (Psalm 23)
The God I know sent his Son Jesus to die so I could have eternal life. (John 3:16)
The God I know calls me His child. (1 John 3:1)
The God I know says He walks beside me through the valley. (Psalm 23:4)
The God I know says He will be with me always, even to the end of the age. (Matthew 28:20)
That is the God I know, and He is God Almighty.
What about you? Do you sometimes feel God is silent and aloof while your heart is breaking? Or do you sometimes doubt that God is good because tragedy has struck and your questions about why are going unanswered?
Many times during TJ’s illness, God showed me that He was with me and was walking right beside me. However, there were also long stretches of time when I felt alone and couldn’t feel the Lord’s presence. What do we do during the times when we don’t feel God near?
We trust and believe God’s Word.
Because God says repeatedly in the scriptures that He loves us and is present, we can rest assured that He is, whether we feel His presence or not. Even Job, whom God called blameless and upright and one who feared God and shunned evil (Job 1:8), was struck with tragedy and unanswered questions while God remained silent. So, if even upright and blameless Job experienced God’s stillness during tragedy, then we must expect that we will too. If we always feel God’s presence and know all the answers, then how would our faith ever grow?
In times of valley walking, trust that God loves you and is there. Remind yourself often of times when You did feel Him walking beside you. Then you will find rest, strength, and courage to face another day.
“And He said, ‘My presence will go with you,and I will give you rest.’” Exodus 33:14
I awakened this morning while it was still dark outside and the house was quiet. I have always been an early riser. As I sauntered down the stairs, the old, well-known proverb “Early to bed and early to rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy and wise,” my son-in-law, Ben, quoted to me while we were on family vacation in Utah last summer floated through my mind. Ben had noticed my sleeping habits while we were on vacation and was thrilled to see that they resulted in a beautiful breakfast buffet awaiting him each morning.
Morning is the time when my thinking is the clearest and I can accomplish the most. I look forward to the quiet moments in the morning that I get to spend with God praying and studying. It’s the time of day when I feel closest to Him.
This morning, as per my usual routine, I headed straight for the kitchen to make the coffee. I pulled the Folgers Breakfast Blend out of the coffee cabinet, grabbed the Coffee Mate Snickers flavor from the refrigerator, and began filling the coffee pot with water. I love my morning coffee. It is oftentimes the first thing on my mind when I awaken in the morning and the last thing on my mind when I fall asleep at night.
As I sat at my kitchen table and drank my morning cup of sunshine, I began googling “Bible studies for special needs parents” in an attempt to find material we could study for the Moms’ Group that I lead. I stopped on one Bible study in particular titled “Held: Learning to Live in God’s Grip.” As I was reading, an unexpected wave of sadness swept over me and the tears started to fall that even my morning cup of sunshine couldn’t chase away. I had been slapped in the face with the reminder that I was no longer the mom of a child with special needs.
In the midst of my sorrow, I remembered the words spoken from one of the moms at a previous meeting: “This is temporary! This is temporary!” she exclaimed. A sentence with just three words, but for those of us who are suffering, what a profound sentence it is. I then embarked on a quest that morning to find Bible verses to comfort and remind me about the short-term nature of life’s pain and suffering. Below are the verses I found:
2 Corinthians 4:18 So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.
1 Peter 5:10 And after you have suffered a little while, the God of all grace, who has called you to his eternal glory in Christ, will himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you.
Psalm 71:20 You who have made me see many troubles and calamities will revive me again; from the depths of the earth you will bring me up again.
Joel 2:25 I will restore to you the years that the swarming locust has eaten, the hopper, the destroyer, and the cutter, my great army, which I sent among you.
Revelation 21:1-5 Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and the sea was no more. And I saw the holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be his people, and God himself will be with them as their God. He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.” And he who was seated on the throne said, “Behold, I am making all things new.” Also he said, “Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true.”
After being encouraged by God’s promises, with materials spread across the table and my coffee cup in hand, I pondered life for awhile and thought how every single one of us on this earth suffers. Of course we hate it and try our best to avoid it, but, sadly, no one escapes it. People we love become sick, marriages fall apart, kids rebel and make bad choices, spouses lose their job or get hurt and become disabled. The list goes on and on.
“For the Christian living in this fallen world, what exactly is the purpose of suffering?” I asked myself. “There has to be a reason God allows us to suffer.” After researching a little more, I came up with two purposes for suffering: To bring glory to God and for our good.
We have a choice of how we respond to suffering. If we choose to suffer well, we display to an unbelieving world that Christ is more valuable and magnificent than any sorrow or pain we might be experiencing. Suffering well creates opportunities to point others to Christ.
Suffering also loosens our tight grip on this world that always falls short of meeting our expectations and turns our gaze toward heaven with the hope of all things made new. It motivates us to work for a cause greater than ourselves and increases our capacity of compassion for others. Suffering causes us to put our hope in Christ rather than in the temporal things of this life for which God then receives the glory.
We don’t have to suffer alone though. God comforts us during times of suffering. His presence alone gives us strength and rest to endure our trials. Psalm 34:18 says, “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.” Psalm 23:4, “Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.” Exodus 33:14, “And he said, ‘My presence will go with you, and I will give you rest.’” God’s Word is true and infallible, and if the Lord says He will be close to us during our times of suffering, then He will. If the Almighty says He is with us while we walk through the valley, then He is, and if the Great I Am says His presence will go with us, then it will.
As we go about our days, may we always remember the wise words from the mom in Moms’ Group and remind ourselves often that suffering is temporary. We have been given hope from God’s Word that one day we will be restored, confirmed, strengthened, and established and He will wipe away every tear from our eyes and death shall be no more.
We have an eternity of joy and contentment to look forward to, so go now, dear one, and suffer well.