Tag Archives: faith

Nick Vogt: “I love to be alive!”

You gotta love this guy’s heart and indomitable spirit!

Nick Vogt’s family posted this update a few days ago:

Nick had a good day today although we were told that last night he gave the med staff a hard time (agitated and depressed). Today he had a lot going on and did a good job “keeping up”. The med staff is doing a good job of letting him sleep. When he wakes up the several medical teams storm him to get their work done. They are all doing a great job. Besides the several required medical jobs that had to be done today Nick’s day included a few additional activities like: a stroll around the ICU hallways in his powered wheelchair with him doing the driving. (Not one mark on the walls along the way. He did great.) Enjoying music from his own Ipod. (It has made it back from Afghanistan.) Watched some Taylor Swift concert on DVD. Watched some X-Men movie on DVD. But my personal favorite moment of the day (make that the week) was when, while killing some time, he thought he would try to write something. So we grabbed a pen and paper and after much effort he wrote, “I love to be alive”. I said,” me too” and gave him a kiss on the head. More answered prayers. God is good. Thank you St. Anthony patron Saint of Amputees.

God truly does hear our prayers!  Please continue to pray for healing for Nick and share his and his family’s joy in the goodness of life! And thank God for their powerful witness to faith and the great gift of life…

 

 

Share

1 Comment

Filed under Catholicism, Faith and Virtue, Family, Lessons Learned, Parenting, Prayer and Spirituality

Lt. Nick Vogt and the Power of Faith

Nick Vogt’s alive. And that’s a miracle.

It’s a dramatic story of heart-stopping injuries and inexplicable survival—and a simultaneous testimony of tenacious faith and the power of prayer. Nick’s horrendous suffering touched the hearts of his hometown community, the far-flung military family, and Catholics everywhere. And the mysterious interplay between setbacks and miraculous interventions has swelled the ranks of spiritual warriors praying on Nick’s behalf, all around the globe.

But I’m getting ahead of myself.

Let me tell you about Nick.

A handsome, athletic young man, Nick turns 24 today (December 13th). He has the lean muscles of a runner and the kind eyes of a big brother—his four younger siblings think he’s “one of the most amazing human beings” ever. One of those rare people liked by everyone, Nick reflects his parents’ strong values of family and faith. Devout Catholics, Nick’s parents–Steve and Sheila–wove faith into the normal fabric of life: a crucifix in every room, nightly prayers together at bedtime, and grace before meals. “God has been a part of our everyday life since day one,” says Olivia, Nick’s 22-year-old sister. And He remains so, now more than ever.

One month ago, the young lieutenant with the strong jaw and easy grin led his platoon on patrol in a still-dangerous corner of Afghanistan. It was a mission cut short. Nick stepped on a pressure-triggered explosive device (IED) hidden in the dirt beneath his feet. The lethal trap—purposely set for American soldiers–exploded under Nick, tore off his legs, and left his life hanging in the balance.

Nick should be dead, the doctors told his family later, if not from the explosion then from the precarious surgeries that followed. He suffered such severe wounds that his heart stopped several times as doctors operated to stanch the massive bleeding.

Medicine rejoices in miracles, but doesn’t expect them.

Believers do.

Jesus promised that, “Your Father knows what you need before you ask him.” (Matt. 6:8). And Scripture says, “For God nothing will be impossible.” (Luke 1:37).

Even as his family sent that first urgent message–begging for prayers for Nick–to friends, parishioners, and neighbors in Bethlehem, Ohio, God surrounded Nick with exactly the people he needed.

A skilled medic, Spc. Thomas Underhill, saved Nick’s life in the intense aftermath of the blast. The military surgeons in Afghanistan, forced to amputate the torn limbs, fought tirelessly to stabilize Nick as he continued losing blood. Soldiers on base, responding to an emergency midnight appeal, sprinted over to give blood for Nick. The urgency of saving one of their own overcame their exhaustion, and the line of war-weary soldiers stretched a city block. (Before leaving the war zone, Nick needed 400 units of blood, 100 more followed later– the highest total of any wartime patient.)

Miraculously, Nick survived.

Parents will tell you that the thought of a son or daughter suffering alone is almost unbearable. The planes fly too slowly, the miles stretch too far, and the war zone delays their bedside vigil. But while Nick lay unconscious in critical care, God was there. According to his sister Olivia, “soldiers who did not even know Nick would sit with him for hours just holding his hand …just so he wasn’t alone. All for my brother who had been there not even 3 months… The amount of love from his and other soldiers there was unbelievable.” Nick needed comfort; bonded by war, his brothers in combat took turns by his side. The faith of his family and the prayers from back home brought angels to keep watch.

As people prayed, God answered again and again, in awesome power and love. In the days just after the explosion, Nick needed repeated surgeries. His sister Olivia said. “Every doctor…said he should not be alive after all he went through.” But God was not ready to call Nick home.

In fact, Olivia says, Nick’s dad jokes that Nick himself must have insisted on more time. As an officer fiercely protective of his men, Nick “was famous for going up the ladder of superiors until he got the answer he wanted.” It’s not hard to imagine that “when his heart stopped in the operating room, Nick must have gone straight to the top and respectfully asked God, ‘With all due respect, Sir, I’m not done down there, so could you please send me back?’”

Nick is back–resilient Nick, powered by a loving heart, a tenacious will, and the vigilant prayers of hundreds, even thousands, of people he’s never met.

Last week, Sheila Vogt posted this glimpse of Nick’s indomitable spirit: “He has a big day in the OR today.  He was chomping at the bit to get in there and just kept looking at the surgeon teams coming in his room and mouthing the words, ‘Let’s do it.’ Even as injured as he is, he still seems to be the Nick we all know and love.” Thumbs up, powering through the pain, determined to do what it takes–that’s Nick.

Never afraid of hard work, Nick excelled in school, sports, and the army, always doing more than was asked.  Why serve? Because it was his dream, his calling. “When he was six years old he wanted his first flat top hair cut,” said Olivia, “He had already decided he wanted to be in the army. From that point on he never second-guessed that.”

As his West Point years drew to a close, Nick mulled over the next step: medical school or deployment.  He opted to postpone medical school—for the sake of his future patients.  He told his mom that he’d go to war first, so that when he treated wounded warriors in the future, he would know first-hand what they had faced.

In God’s plan, there is no “what if?” He knows the “why?” and the “what comes next?” What we know is that God’s promise endures: He “works all things to the good of those who love him and are called according to his purpose.” (Rom. 8:28). God’s got a mighty plan for this selfless young soldier.

Our culture blindly denies the value of life “burdened” by imperfection, disability, or suffering. But that’s not how his family sees it. They see the son and brother they love and for whose life they are profoundly grateful.

The Bible says, “Give thanks in all circumstances.” (1 Thess. 5:18) No easy task for us mortals; it requires divine perspective. In the midst of their grief and worry for Nick, his mom and dad gave thanks to God for the greatest gift—Nick’s life. In a Thanksgiving Day post, Sheila wrote, “Steve and I went to Thanksgiving Mass today in the hospital chapel. Our prayers of thanks this year have…a much more powerful sincereness. God has blessed us with a most ultimate gift – some more time with Nick.”

Nick’s life is truly a gift for others.  When the time is right, I hope Nick discovers…

–The spiritual fervor he’s inspired every day since his injury.  Countless adults, children, and peers hit their knees every day to pray for him.  Even people who haven’t prayed much over the years hear Nick’s story and reach out again to their Father in heaven.  “God, please heal Nick. Guide his doctors, comfort his siblings, and strengthen his parents.  We’re looking for miracles, Lord.” If only our lives drew others towards Christ with the same intensity.

–The gift of joy he gives his parents, doctors, and siblings each time he smiles, signals thumbs up, or delights in a favorite song. It’s a gift multiplied and received by hundreds who check on him daily through Facebook, receive emails from the incredible network of military families, and read the posts on his parish’s website. I wonder, do the rest of us give others such pure joy?

–The seeds of humble trust planted in the hearts of many, as God answers their prayers for Nick. On Dec. 7th, Nick’s dad wrote: “Nick`s recovery has gotten more difficult. …It turns out that a blood clot had formed in his brain … He went into emergency surgery last night and the clot was removed. This latest injury had me praying hard for Nick and to give us strength against falling into despair. Within an hour of my prayer for strength we had a visitor, a friend of Nick`s who happened to be here for other business. [He] had this type of injury a while back and looks great. My prayer was answered again. I now see that this injury can also be overcome. Thanks for your support and please continue your prayers.” Would that we all trusted in God’s strength, not our own.

–His impact on his siblings’ faith. In the midst of her family’s suffering, Nick’s sister Olivia said, “In a situation like this it is easy to blame God and ask why did it have to happen to such a good person? If anything, this has brought us closer to God. We’ve seen miracles lately happening to Nick. When doctors themselves say he should not be alive, there is a reason he is. And our family and friends believe it’s because of prayer…. For any one who has, is, or will go through this, you have to learn to trust in God and in prayer.” In pain? Trust God. Turn to Him.

—The inexpressible significance of his love. Nick awoke ten days after the explosion, the doctors stabilized him, and the military flew him and his parents to the U.S. for the next phase of treatment. Unable to talk, Nick looked at his parents next to him on the plane and mouthed to them the only words that mattered. “I love you guys!” Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things (1 Cor. 13:7). Lord, help us love like that!

To those of you just learning about Nick, Olivia says, “My family first and foremost would ask for prayers from people. They’ve got us so far already but he has a very long way to go.”

Nick faces the constant threat of deadly infection and many months of intensive rehabilitation. His family’s journey will continue on its wild ride–the ordinary and the miraculous—but it’s a journey they won’t make alone.

Moved by the urgency of Nick’s daily struggle, thousands of people will walk and talk with God more deeply today. They will thank God for the gift of life—no matter how broken and vulnerable—and beg mercy, healing, and strength for Nick, his family, and our military.

And you…will you pray too?

Will you share his story with friends, so they will pray too?

It’s a small–but powerfully big–way to say thanks.

Financial support for wounded soldiers can be sent to Fisher House or the Wounded Warrior Project.  Donations to support Nick’s recovery can be sent to: Lieutenant Nicholas Vogt Hope Fund
c/o Sacred Heart of Jesus Church
5742 State Route 61 South,
Shelby, Ohio 44875

© 2011 Mary Rice Hasson

Photos courtesy of Olivia Vogt

Permission granted for republication, in whole or part, with attribution.

Share

36 Comments

Filed under Catholicism, Family, Lessons Learned, Parenting, Prayer and Spirituality

Reaching Teens: The Priest Who Roared

It’s hard to impress a sixteen-year-old boy.

And it’s even harder to impress a sixteen-year-old boy with a Sunday homily.

But on a recent Sunday, a priest at our parish (we’ll call him “Fr. Joe”) did just that.

“Hey, you know that visiting priest, mom?  He was on fire. It was like one of those old fire and brimstone deals. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Neither, apparently, had most of the other teens in the Church.  Or even most of the adults, most likely.

His topic?

Pop culture…and its brazen efforts to normalize sexual perversity. Not an easy topic on which to engage teenagers positively and persuasively.

Teens too easily put on mental headphones and tune out “predictable” grown ups. “Yeah, yeah.  Back in the day…lecture 192.” Besides haven’t adults always complained about rock-n-roll, teen culture, fashions, and the like? It’s just a generational thing.

But when a priest grabs their attention, keeps them listening—and gives them something meaty to take home and chew on–it’s worth noticing what works.

So what went right?

For starters, Fr. Joe got their attention. He didn’t glide gently into his topic. He fairly roared. He spoke passionately, compelling attention by the volume and certitude in his voice. His voice conveyed the unspoken message: ‘Listen up. This is important. The stakes are high: your soul and our culture hang in the balance.’

Father Joe wasn’t angry and out of control.  But he was vehement, concerned, and loud. Troubled about the likely future of our culture, he insisted that his listeners respond, in their own lives, to what he was saying.

Look at it this way:  kids understand passion. Celebrities, teachers, coaches, and websites encourage our teens to discover their passion and pursue it, to find what matters to them, and to be a voice for it. But if a priest or youth leader addresses sexual morality or serious cultural problems with the same bland tone of the weekly “doughnuts-and-coffee-in-the-parish-hall-after-all-Masses” announcement, few teens will listen.

And why should they?  The speaker’s tone of voice implicitly says, “I know you’re not listening but, bear with me, I’m required to say this.”

Hardly a way to inspire teens to risk their popularity, face humiliation, or endure rejection because they stand up for truth.

A priest who roars, on the other hand, gets their attention.  Don’t cringe. I’m not advocating a weekly rant or ear-splitting homilies.  But our teachers, pastors, and ministers need to command attention and one way to do that is to let loose with the change-up pitch.  Be unpredictable. A dropped voice, a whispering tone, or compelling rhetoric does the trick too.

What else worked about Fr. Joe’s homily?

He used specific words, pointed criticisms, and concrete analogies. Gay marriage?  It’s like Grape Nuts: neither grape nor nuts. Gay marriage isn’t “gay”—the homosexual lifestyle teems with unhappiness, depression, disease, and substance abuse. And it isn’t “marriage” either. Marriage has a centuries old meaning that cannot be changed by popular vote—it requires the faithful sexual intimacy of a man and woman, united permanently to parent the children born of their intimacy. Two women and a turkey baster (or two guys and a rented womb) can’t compare.

Dozens of times a day, the culture pulses seductive, destructive messages to our kids—through music, videos, websites, peer conversations, the media and our schools.  (Read Mary Beth Hicks’ excellent new book Don’t Let the Kids Drink the Kool-Aid, and you’ll see the problem.)

Teens need us to respect them enough to provide reasons why certain acts are immoral.  Forget the euphemisms. Give them the words to defend traditional morality and provide the examples that challenge the lies behind accepted cultural ‘wisdom.’ If we want our teens to rebuff the culture’s assault on morality, then we need to tackle the other side’s arguments head on. Where else will our teens hear the truth, if not from their families and the Church?

Kudos to Fr. Joe for tackling tough subjects, with passion, clarity, and certitude.

I hope there’s more where that came from—in your parish and mine–for the sake of all our kids.

© 2011 Mary Rice Hasson

 

Mary Rice Hasson, the mother of seven, is a Visiting Fellow in Catholic Studies at the Ethics and Public Policy Center, Washington, D.C.

Share

1 Comment

Filed under Catholicism, Children, Faith and Virtue, Family, Parenting, Policy and Culture, Prayer and Spirituality, Sexuality

Girl Wrestlers: Boundaries, Faith, and False Equality

In high school, I ran cross-country—the only girl on the boys’ cross-country team. Running made me happy and I was good it.

But with no girls’ team at my high school, I churned up the hills with the boys’ team. The miles I’d run with my dad and brothers over the years made competing with the boys’ team as natural as running itself.  (And beating even a few male runners on the racecourse was, I admit, satisfying.)

So I get it.

I understand Cassy Herkelman’s athleticism and her desire to compete against the best athletes around.  I really do get that.

Cassy Herkelman, by the way, is a 112-pound high school girl, a freshman at Cedar Falls High School in Iowa. The problem, however, is that Cassy competes with high school boys in a sport where success depends on breaching all the natural boundaries of male-female physical contact.

She’s a wrestler.

And what I don’t get is her parents’ decision to let her aim her athleticism and competitive drive at the wrestling mat. I don’t get that at all.

Cassy and another girl wrestler, Megan Black, earned spots in this year’s Iowa State Wrestling Tournament for the first time. But Cassy’s first round match proved to be a test of faith and conviction rather than skill…for her opponent, at least.

Her scheduled opponent, Joel Northrup, was a promising young wrestler who finished third in last year’s tournament. But Joel withdrew from the match, handing Cassy a victory by forfeit.

Why did Joel refuse to wrestle Cassy and, with that refusal, end his title hopes?

Because his faith taught him better than to grapple violently with a girl, grabbing at her body parts for handholds, mentally focused on subduing her. He knew that the sports context didn’t make the contact less problematic. Joel’s strong character propelled him to do the right thing—forfeiting–even though it cost him a shot at the championship he’s worked towards all season long.

To his credit, Joel speaks well of Cassy and acknowledges her athletic talent.  But he goes on to say, “wrestling is a combat sport and it can get violent at times….As a matter of conscience and faith, I do not believe that it is appropriate for a boy to engage a girl in this manner. It is unfortunate that I have been placed in [this] situation…”

Joel’s right.  It should never have come to this.

Even if dunder-headed school administrators lacked the common sense to keep girls from wrestling boys, the girls’ parents should never have allowed it. For the girls’ sakes as well as the boys.’

While wrestling moves aren’t overtly sexual and must conform to set rules, wrestling is a contact sport–an aggressive, body-on-body contest. Unlike the jarring, two-second contact of tackle football, wrestling entails sustained grappling, grabbing, squeezing, pressing, and even gouging. As the match progresses, opponents might end up lying on top of each other, wrapping their arms and legs around the other’s torso, or grabbing through the opponent’s legs to flip or pin the other.

“She can take it.”  I can hear the argument now.  But this isn’t a question about whether a girl is tough enough to physically endure those demands on her body.  Certainly an athletic girl can condition her body as well as a boy, and learn the techniques to deftly escape or take down an opponent.

Yes, girls can be fit, well-conditioned, competitive athletes. But that misses the point.

Throwing girls and boys on the wrestling mat together involves more than relative strength or skill level. Girls’ bodies are, well, girls’ bodies, different from boys.’ And that physical difference extends to the way they think and feel, as well as their natural inhibitions and inclinations. Our norms about appropriate physical contact are a way of respecting those differences.

Consider this: fifteen-year-old girl wrestlers, like Cassy, must allow a succession of fifteen-year-old boys (friends? strangers?) to handle their bodies roughly, intimately, aggressively on an open mat in front of a crowd, in an atmosphere of adversarial domination.  And, in order to win, they must respond in kind.

Do we really want a girl to shrug off this kind of contact? To overcome her innate emotional resistance to having her body handled roughly by random males? To accept an adrenaline-driven male grabbing her face, reaching through her legs and flipping her, pinning her? Or for her to grab a teenage boy the same way?

Do we really want our boys to put their physical aggression in high gear against a girl, “fighting” her, while they simultaneously experience her touches and grabs in sensitive areas?

For a boy and girl to wrestle each other requires each to make internal compromises–mental shifts to overcome the ingrained, rightful boundaries we have about how males and females should interact physically.

I believe it’s a good instinct for a girl to recoil from a stranger’s rough touch, especially in intimate areas, just it’s a good mindset for a boy to pull back from causing a girl physical pain or overpowering her in pursuit of physical dominance.

So what on earth are parents thinking, when they allow their son or daughter to wrestle an opposite-sex opponent? I just don’t get it.

Cassy Henkelman lost her subsequent matches and has been eliminated from the tournament.

She failed to win a medal.

But does she even know what she lost in the attempt?

(c) 2011 Mary Rice Hasson

 

Share

3 Comments

Filed under Children, Faith and Virtue, Family, Kids and Character, Kids and Sports, Lessons Learned, Parenting, Policy and Culture, Women