Showing posts with label Cole Ruotsala. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Cole Ruotsala. Show all posts

Friday, September 19, 2008

My Absence, And More On Cole Ruotsala

I have just learned that Cole Ruotsala, the precious little boy of whom I wrote a while ago (see his video page by clicking "A Family Asks For Prayer" immediately to the right of this post) probably has only hours to live. Such news breaks the heart. (Followers of this blog know that Cole's dad left a comment here thanking you all for your care and your prayers.)

Since I wrote about Cole, I have been blown away by the breadth of his story. People from all around the world have come through this website in search of more information about him; there is not a hemisphere of the planet Cole has not touched. Over 350,000 visits have been recorded at Cole's website; today there have been thousands of messages left for him and his family.

I will be away from Contratimes for the next several days. I urge you to visit some of my friends during my time away. (And boy do I have some good friends. Thank you.)

In all grace, hope, and gratitude, I bid you each, along with the family of Cole Ruotsala, a peace that passes all understanding. And I offer a special prayer for Jim, Cole's grandfather, who is also my dear friend. Peace to you, my good and faithful man.

Bill Gnade

Friday, September 05, 2008

Reality Check: Prayers For A Little Boy

Every once in a while a story hits me so hard that I know I will never be the same. This is one of those stories.

I do not know little Cole Ruotsala, who just turned 3 years old. I do not know his mother or father, or his aunts and uncles. I have only the most distant connection to Cole through his maternal grandfather, who is my friend. But Cole is always on my mind.

About 5 weeks ago, precious little Cole complained of "Owies" in his stomach. Sadly, the "Owies" turned out to be a vicious form of cancer. Two weeks ago, having been flown to a Milwaukee hospital, Cole underwent surgery to remove tumors from various organs in his abdomen. The surgery lasted more than 18 hours; his organs were so swollen as a result that doctors could not close his abdomen. In fact, it is still open, and he continues to endure surgeries.

I do not know what I am asking you. For the religious, I am asking you to pray. Indeed, the little boy's story is both tragic and inspiring. The love, devotion and patience of his parents have no equal. And his little sister has been a saint. So I ask you to simply pray for each of them, and for all of them. Yes, there are all sorts of children experiencing equally horrible things right now, though few are experiencing far worse; nonetheless, since we know about Cole, we can at least turn all our love, faith and grace his way. And surely those who are not religious can do something; prayer offered by the faithless can never be harmful, can it?

Cole's ministry of suffering, as I've called it, has touched me, changed me. If I could, I would rip down the stars and split the earth to cure him; but I can't, and surely if I could I would hurt countless others as I sought to give him comfort and succor. But I must say that little Cole's story has already touched thousands of people across America (over 180,000 visits to his website); he has already had more impact on more lives than most of us could ever dream of having. He is a light in a way that is most mysterious; he is a gift that calls us to love, to show mercy, to be our best, to live lives filled with gratitude.

If you would like to visit Cole's website at Caring Bridge, you may do so at this link. And if you would like to see the little boy who has touched me to the core, you can see his stunningly beautiful face in the online photo album his parents have provided. The image of him on the phone with his grandfather, or the one of him kissing his little sister, are enough to send me running into the forest, deep into the dark, to fall on my knees. He is unbelievably beautiful. I cannot think of how much his father and mother must love him, or how they must feel.

Thank you for reading this. And thank you for your prayers.

Peace,

Bill Gnade

PS. Here's a report from Cole's hometown paper.