My Journey Toward A Trusting Heart

Chapter 3

Its truly amazing the emotions reading this again brings to the surface. Of course I'll never forget it all, but its kinda good to be reminded of the details of those difficult days...read on...(with more to come)

We arrived in Lithuania on a beautiful summer day. It was sunny, but cooler than “home” this time of year. We were met by Diana, a secretary at the Bible College in Vilnius and one of the local pastors, Pastor Penko. Diana spoke English and was a great help to us in getting through customs. It cost us about $7.00 USD to bring Penny into the country! (She traveled great, by the way. No one in the plane even knew she was with us!)

There is an 8-hour time change from Central Time to Lithuania time. Needless-to-say, we were sort of in a comatose state! We were taken to our new “home”, a 3-bedroom apartment, or “flat” on the 7^th floor of an apartment complex. It was culture shock.

While the country itself is beautiful, there was little desirable about our new neighborhood. The area looked like the typical Soviet housing projects you might see on television. Apartment buildings as far as the eye could see, all cement. No yards to speak of, and definitely no landscaping. To be honest, it was a little depressing.

We moved into the vacated apartment of the Langs. They were now back in the States on a one-year furlough. It was a pleasant and roomy home, and we felt it would be more than comfortable there for the next two years.

For the first couple of days, we worked at getting acclimated to the time-change and the neighborhood. Kate had the hardest time adjusting. She was sleeping in the daytime, and then awake at night. It was a bit of a challenge, but after a few days we all settled into the new routine. There was a playground of sorts, and the girls spent some time there. We bought Krissi a pair of roller blades and she spent time learning to "ride" them along the sidewalks of our neighborhood.

Mike visited the Bible College and renewed his acquaintances with the wonderful people he’d met the year before. Everyone was so loving, so welcoming and so helpful. We felt accepted from the beginning, and were confident that we would have much help in learning the ways of our new home.

Particularly helpful was the president of the Pentecostal Union Churches, Rimantas Kupstys, or “Rimas” as he was known to us. Rimas and his family welcomed us as part of them, and his daughter, Julia, helped us in the area of translation and interpretation. The winter before we left, we purchased a set of tapes, tutoring us in the Lithuanian language. Needless to say we had definitely not learned enough to go off on our own!

Julia was our tour guide for the next several days. We visited some beautiful places. Vilnius is a very old city, with incredible architecture. Lithuania was the first Republic to declare its independence from the Soviet Union when the Berlin Wall fell. Because of that, there are still some big reminders of the decades of control by the USSR. But there is also a great effort to erase those reminders and to become an independent, free-enterprise society. As a “romantic” I wanted to see how people had lived in centuries gone by and I was trying to absorb as much history as I could.

I loved the short tours Julia gave us. Sadly, because I was sure I’d get many more chances, I didn’t take many photos. I really feel sick about that, as I did not get to visit those places again.

I’d like to make further mention of Julia. Julia is a beautiful young lady who loves the Lord. At the time of our visit to Lithuania, Julia was 15 years old. She spoke 5 languages, though she is very modest about this. She was more than proficient in English, her native Lithuanian, as well as Russian. She spoke some Polish and German. Made me feel almost dumb! She was sweet, humble and graceful. We were so blessed by her friendship and I still pray for Julia and her life. She is a gift to all who know her. (Thank you, Julia, for everything. You will be remembered always!)

When we packed our boxes back home, most of our ministry “tools” were packed for shipment. We were not anticipating doing any children’s crusades in the early weeks after our arrival so did not bring the usual “toys” we would normally use in a children’s crusade or service. (puppets, object lessons, etc)

But, in spite of not being truly prepared and supplied, about a week after we arrived, we were asked to do a children’s crusade in a tent in Klaipeda, a city north of Vilnius. There were efforts to plant a new church there, and adult meetings were held each evening. The children’s services were held during the afternoon.

Because of the distance, we planned to stay close by and ended up renting hotel rooms in Palanga. Palanga is a coastal town, and a huge tourist spot. It is situated right on the Baltic Sea and draws visitors from all over Europe. It is a quaint little village, and during the summer months is bustling with activity. Tourists and street vendors crowd the walk-ways, and even though the Baltic water is COLD, there were many people on the beach. The water was basically like ice water. Krissi and Julia did brave it, but Mike and Kate and Penny (our dog) and I stayed on the beach.

We managed to dig up a few things the Langs had left behind and thankfully had packed several bags of balloons (for making sculptures), and with that we felt we could successfully present a children’s service. We planned for 3 services over three afternoons. The children came in like a flood! We played music, and like the Pied Piper, they came from everywhere.

Many were unruly compared to our standards for how kids should behave in “church.” But Mike was clever enough that he held their attention pretty well. Many of the children came every day, and seemed to bring new friends each time. I believe we actually ministered to about 250 children in the course of those three days.

The girls were great assistants to their Dad, and Penny the Dog was a great attraction as well. Julia served as the interpreter for the crusade, and it was such a thrill to hear her follow Mike’s lead in communicating the Gospel to the children.

I can honestly say that nearly all the children responded to the invitation to accept Jesus as their Savior. Our prayer, still today, is that the church that was being birthed is doing well in discipling those children and watering the seeds that were planted in their hearts. If nothing else, there WERE many seeds planted. We pray for someone to come along and water them!

Mike was in his element. Here he was: finally on the mission field, with his family, doing what he loved more than anything. He truly radiated his complete joy during those days.

I should mention that we had use of a Toyota mini-van while we were there. Driving in Vilnius, however, was a lesson in self-defense. You take your life in your own hands when you choose to get behind the wheel in that city. I learned that several pedestrians had been killed. Free enterprise was a relatively new concept in Lithuania, and more people were driving than ever before. That does not mean they knew HOW to drive. They were driving, though, all the same. Very scary. Needless-to-say, I didn’t do much walking in the city!

Before we left the States, we were “introduced”, via email, to the Holliday family. Rick and MaryBeth Holliday and their four daughters were living in Vilnius, serving with Christ For The Nations ministries. We established a great rapport with Rick and MaryBeth over the few months before we left for Lithuania. Once we arrived in Vilnius, we called them and made arrangements to meet at McDonald’s downtown.

It was an immediate friendship. Their girls were all about the same age as ours, and we all connected. It was to be more a blessing that I could have guessed.

On the day we were returning to Vilnius from the crusades in Klaipeda, we were going to the airport to meet a Paul and Jenny Bortolozzo. They were due to arrive on Tuesday afternoon, August 13.

Our trip to the airport was more than stressful. Besides the horrendous traffic snarls, we weren’t entirely sure where the airport was. Julia was unable to accompany us that day, so we were on our own. Like most men, Mike thought he knew where he was going. He didn’t.

We went in circles for what seemed like eternity, and since we didn’t know the language very well, we could not very easily ask for directions.

We did finally make it and Paul and Jenny were joyful and excited to be with us.

We took them to the apartment they would be occupying during their time in Vilnius. It was while Mike and Paul were unloading their belongings that Mike complained of feeling dizzy and weak, and very thirsty. We urged him to take a break and rest a bit.

Having done that, we finished getting them moved in and headed back for our apartment.

Later that evening, Mike was working on getting the television and VCR set up. The girls were playing near him, and I was making dinner in the kitchen. Suddenly, Mike called out for me. I ran to where he was sitting on the floor, and saw that he was having some sort of seizure.

His jaw was clenched, and his head was “bobbing” up and down in a jerking motion. Mike tried to speak but could not. The seizure lasted only a few minutes, but it seemed like forever. The girls had rushed to him, and began praying for him like I’d never heard children pray. We were all praying!!

Mike managed to get to the sofa, where he just collapsed. The seizure had subsided, and he was just trying to get his bearings. I was in a tailspin, not knowing who to call. I didn’t know how to call an ambulance. I knew I needed some kind of assurance that God did see what was happening, and I picked up a Twila Paris tape, popped it into the tape deck and out came, “God is in control.” It was just what we all needed at that moment….to know our Lord was somewhere in the midst of all this.

With shaking hands I called Julia’s home, and tried to explain what had happened and asked her to call an ambulance (if that’s what they called it?). Right after that I called Rick Holliday. I told him what had happened and asked for his help. I didn’t really know what to ask for specifically, but I was scared to death and just needed ANYONE to tell me what to do.

After I spoke to Rick, I called our families back in the States. Of course I didn’t know what exactly to tell them, except that Mike was sick and we would call again when we had more news. But, I asked them to PRAY.

Rick and another American friend came to our flat, and were followed by the emergency team. Rick offered to take the girls to their home, which I gratefully accepted. It was a load off my mind, knowing the girls would be safe and cared for while their dad and I tried to get some answers and some help.

Though Mike insisted he was fine and could walk, the EMT men prevailed and carried Mike down 7 floors in a hand-held stretcher, sort of like the ones you might see in a military zone. A far cry from what we have here in the States.

I drove the van and followed the ambulance to the hospital. We were greeted by a staff that spoke NO English whatsoever. But within a few minutes, Rick Holliday had arrived and was a great help in the communication between the medical staff and us.

To try to explain what I was thinking and feeling at this time is pretty much impossible. Fear. Panic. Questions. More fear. Despair. I was a nervous wreck.

The doctor “on call” was a kindly gentleman. He was obviously very concerned for Mike, and was very attentive, but he spoke no English. With Rick’s help, the doctor asked many questions and we answered best we could.

“Were there any other ‘symptoms’? No.

“Have there been any headaches?” No.

“Blurred vision?” No.

There truly were no recent episodes to prepare us for this. Mike’s illness a month or so before didn’t really even come to mind immediately. We just didn’t make a connection.

I stayed with Mike that night at the hospital. Believe me, I think even the poorest of hospitals in our country are the Hilton compared to the conditions in Lithuania. They are doing their best, but it is not the standards we are accustomed to here.

Mike and I slept on twin cots in a small room. Everyone, and I mean, EVERYONE disappeared. There was no bustling activity at the nurse’s station. There were only shadowy lights in the hall. It was deathly quiet in that place. I had no idea where the nurse might be sleeping, and certainly not where the doctor might be. There was no “call button” and so no way to notify anyone if we needed help.

But help we did need! A couple of hours after we tried to sleep, Mike woke me making strange noises. I asked him, “Is it happening again?” Meaning a seizure. I managed to understand, “Yes, it’s happening again!”

I literally RAN from that room, into a darkened hall. Panic was rising in me as I looked one way, then another, wondering where to go. I was so conscious of the hour, I didn’t want to scream and wake the whole hospital. I guess I should have! However, I just kept running and running up and down the hall way, “quietly” calling out, “Someone please help us! Someone please help us!”

Somehow the nurse heard me and came rushing to me…..I am certain all she needed to hear was the panic in my voice and the look on my face. She quickly dialed the phone and out of no where, the doctor came running.

Mike’s seizure lasted only a few minutes. But in the meantime, they wheeled him down to an exam room and proceeded to do an ultra-sound of sorts. I feel certain the equipment they had was 20 years old or more. And so, it goes without saying that they could find nothing.

All we could do was go back to our room, try to sleep and wait and see what morning brought.

I didn’t sleep at all. Not one wink. I prayed all night long, and begged God for help and mercy. I was very afraid.

The next morning, Wednesday, August 14, we were greeted by a wonderful, English-speaking neurologist. This good doctor had studied briefly at Loyola University Hospital, and seemed very capable of assessing Mike’s condition.

He asked many of the same questions we’d been asked the day before. But, this time, the issue of Mike’s illness in late June surfaced.

That gave the doctor some concern. He felt that there was more than pneumonia going on, but did say that certainly pneumonia could have played a role.

The doctor sent us to an independent clinic where they had a state-of-the-art MRI machine. The clinic was modern and clean and resembled more closely what one would expect to find in a medical clinic in the States. That MRI cost us $100 USD!

The technicians took images of Mike’s head. The doctors at first were considering a possible stroke, or TMI. A “TMI” , or “transient ischemic attack”, is defined as a “neurological event with the signs and symptoms of a stroke, but which go away within a short period of time.” With that in mind, they were looking for evidence of it in Mike’s brain, and for any sort of damage or signal of what may have caused the seizures.

They did find some shadowing in the left side of his brain, but of course the technicians could not make the diagnosis. We returned to the hospital and waited to hear from the neurologist.

We were settling into our room when the doctor came and asked me to step across the hall. My stomach was in my throat. I’d seen enough medical shows on TV to assume this meant bad news was forthcoming.

The doctor showed me the films of Mike’s MRI. He pointed to a pea-sized dot on the left side of Mike’s brain. He said, “Mrs. Driver, this is not good. This is cancer. It is coming from somewhere else in Mr. Driver’s body, but we cannot be sure where. You must return to the States. We cannot help you here.”

I don’t know how I stayed on my feet. I must have because I don’t remember being revived, but I cannot begin to tell you what I was feeling at that moment. Everything I’d felt before, only bigger.

I asked the doctor to please talk to Mike about this, and he did so.

Mike was a stubborn man. And he was full of faith. He believed in his God, and he believed that modern medicine can fix anything. He boldly told the doctor, “I’ll be back. You’ll see. I believe God is going to heal me.”

It was clear to me the doctor didn’t have so much confidence. He wished us well, and expressed his hopes that this would be so. Mike promised him we’d meet again.

We left the hospital and returned to our apartment. I still had not slept at all. I could not relax, and was simply afraid to go to sleep. I didn’t know what might happen to Mike and I wanted to be there if something did happen.

I did make calls to our families back home. I told them what we were possibly facing, and they all rallied around us in prayer support and encouragement. In addition, they were getting the word out to everyone who knew us to begin praying.

Rick Holliday brought our girls back to us. They were as happy as they could be, considering that they did not know what was wrong with Daddy, or what plans were being made. But it was clear they’d had a great time with the Holliday girls and we felt so blessed for them to be loved and cared for in our absence.

For the next 30 hours or so, I worked feverishly to re-pack what I could so that we could return to the states. Paul Bortolozzo, with the help of friends and our missionary leadership back in the States, made all our travel arrangements. We were to fly out of Vilnius on Friday morning, August 16. We would be arriving in Des Moines, Iowa, and would be met by our folks, both mine and Mike’s.

Because of the nature of our departure (Mike’s illness), and the last-minute arrangements, we ended up flying home “First Class.’ In many ways we were out of our element. We are “coach” people. It was actually a bit humorous. The menu consisted of things we couldn’t even pronounce. One meal was actually a liver patee. Penny loved it!

We were blessed in these accommodations, however. The seating was comfortable and roomy. We were not sure if Mike would seizure again, so having a little more room, and a bit more privacy, was worth every penny it cost us. And of course, I didn’t sleep a wink on that flight. Mike did rest, as did the girls (and Penny!), but I could not.

So, on Friday evening, after gaining 8 hours, we arrived, exhausted, in Des Moines. My parents were there, as were Mike’s and his brother, Phil and wife Cherri and their son, Jesse. Also greeting us were our dear friends Bill and Shari Wenig. We had a nice meal together and then Mike and I and the girls, along with Penny, joined Mike’s folks and headed for their home in Linn Grove, Iowa.

I had not slept but a few minutes here and there since waking up on Tuesday morning, August 13. I was physically, emotionally and mentally spent.  And I was afraid. I remember being driven away, and my parents weeping for what none of us understood. I had never felt so much despair in my entire life.