chapter 4
An Army Gathers
The truth was that Alex’s story had grown bigger than our family, bigger than our church, bigger than even our local community. People sensed that this was Heaven’s business.
Three days after the accident, I woke up and made my way to the shower. I had slept fitfully the night before. It felt good to let the steaming water cascade down my face as I wondered, Was Alex experiencing something like sleep? What was happening to him? Where was he? He had seen his way through the first three days . . . but would he remain asleep forever?
Medically speaking, there were so many unanswered questions, so many uncertainties. Beth and I would have given anything just to do something practical for Alex to improve his chances. The most we could do, however, was to pray, and we had to remind ourselves that this was a significant contribution.
But we felt there was something else we could do: we could get the word out to everyone who believed in the power of prayer and who might agree to intercede for Alex before God.
People had been calling the hospital and pouring into the hallways since the moment visiting hours began—we’d never dreamed that we had so many true friends and loved ones and would make so many new friends besides. But we wanted to spread the word far and wide, to Columbus, to Ohio, and to the uttermost parts of the earth, if possible, so that prayer warriors everywhere would take up Alex’s cause. We’d heard stories of miracles that happened when God’s people were diligent in taking their requests before the Lord. We simply weren’t prepared, however, for the depth of the encounters we would soon be having in prayer as we became surrounded by a group of saints we called Alex’s Army.
+ + +
I have a strong faith, but I am a weak man. Please pray that God continually refreshes me and that I not fall prey to the fiery darts of the evil one.
PrayforAlex.com post by Kevin Malarkey on December 10, 2004
+ + +
“Nice” Christians or Prayer Warriors?
How often do we hear people described as “nice”?
But is that really what our faith is all about? Isn’t it possible to appear to be a pleasant person, with a smiling face, saying all the right words to give the impression that one is close to God? Isn’t it revealing that Jesus, the apostle Paul, and all of the great saints of the Bible were never described as nice?
God had taken care of where He placed us—not among your average “nice” people, but among true men and women of God, soldiers of the Cross who were ready to mobilize. These were people who understood spiritual warfare in ways the vast majority of us never recognize.
What’s all the more amazing is that these were practical people as well. Some served God with their hearts, others with their hands, but the people around us excelled in both faith and works. As Alex lay there in a coma and as we stood watching, shocked and numb—with our other children needing us—God used the ministry of prayer-centric people to sustain us and to carry on the fight for Alex’s recovery.
Our lives were quickly becoming intertwined with those of prayer warriors in ways that we’ll never forget as long as we live. One of them had a most unusual name.
Hillbilly Graham
Neither Hillbilly nor Graham appeared on his birth certificate. He had the distinction of a double nickname. The first came about because of his entertaining country accent, the second because of his remarkable passion for introducing people to the Lord—a genuine “hillbilly” version of Billy Graham. What made this man’s nicknames even more amusing was that he was actually a successful dentist who resided in one of the affluent suburbs of Columbus.
Knowing Hillbilly’s spiritual wisdom, I was excited to see him walk into Alex’s room during our first full day in the hospital. Hillbilly visited with us for a few minutes and quickly became a comforting presence, describing times of sickness and trouble in his own family and explaining how prayer had made the difference—how it could do the same for our Alex.
A question had been forming in my mind, and it occurred to me that Hillbilly might be just the person to answer it. But it was the kind of question I wanted to phrase very carefully.
“Hillbilly, can I ask you something?” I offered tentatively. “I’m a little reluctant to say it, because I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.”
“Don’t worry ’bout that!” said Hillbilly in his trademark drawl. “What’s on your mind, Kevin?”
“Well, you see, since Alex was very little, I’ve had this strong feeling that someday he might be a pastor. You know, I’ve watched him closely, and I’ve known he was spiritually sensitive and special in so many ways. And I just began believing that someday he would feel a call to the ministry.”
My eyes moved down to take in the image of my little boy who had engendered such lofty ideas, which now seemed refuted by all the machines, tubes, and IVs running chaotically in every direction. “Then, well, since the accident, I’ve started to wonder if it could be the devil behind this whole thing—I mean, causing the accident. Because if I were the devil and I spotted this child who had great potential to serve God, I’d want to cut him off at the pass, right?”
Hillbilly began to nod and smile as if he knew exactly what I was saying.
“Now don’t get me wrong,” I added quickly. “I’m not passing off responsibility for what I did. It was me behind the wheel, not the devil. I’ve never been the kind to say ‘the devil made me do it’ whenever I spill a glass of milk, and I’m not trying to pass off the blame on some invisible—”
Hillbilly threw his head back and burst out laughing. His big hand came down hard on my shoulder, smack!
“Bless your heart, man. I’m right there with ya. What you want to know is—did the devil want to kill your son? And I say, ‘Ya think?’”
Then he waved a hand across the room, where people were praying. He continued, “Yes sir, I believe the devil tried to kill your son—but you know what? As usual, all he accomplished was to stir up a hornet’s nest!”
I stopped, looked, and listened to the hushed murmur of praying voices that filled the room like soft music. Hillbilly was exactly right. The only thing the devil had accomplished was to mobilize the saints to turn to God. How quickly they had organized to spread the love of Christ by meeting our needs and serving as a major witness to everyone who came in the doors of Children’s. I suddenly felt buoyed by an incredible power.
“The Spirit who lives in you,” wrote the apostle John, “is greater than the spirit who lives in the world” (1 John 4:4). Since I had watched the helicopter bear my son away, I had felt totally weak and helpless. Now I was realizing, in a very practical way, that there are other ways to see things. You can choose to view life as an impersonal machine that provides no user’s manual, or you can see it as a spiritual battle in progress, in which a prayer army can make a real difference.
Ours was already on the front line, and I was beginning to gain courage from their presence.
As we continued to discuss these things, someone near me suggested that we leave Alex’s room and adjourn to an empty one across the hall. I figured we were doing this out of consideration for the people trying to pray. But as soon as we got there, Hillbilly pushed me down into a chair. Then he gathered everyone in a circle around me. This was for me! It was the last thing I was expecting, and I felt a little awkward. But all I could do was go with the flow. Everyone present laid hands on me while Hillbilly knelt at my feet. He asked me to fully extend my legs. Then he held my feet in the air and began praying.
“Lord God,” he said, “we need Your wisdom right now so that we might understand how to pray and what to ask for. Use us as vessels for Your healing power.” The others whispered their prayerful affirmation. “We are here for Alex, dear Lord,” he continued, “but now we lift his father, Kevin, before You. He is a victim of this accident too. Heal him in every way, mind and body. You are the Great Physician; place Your healing hand upon him, we pray, in Jesus’ name.”
Hillbilly Graham finished praying, placed my feet back on the floor, and said, “You’re done.”
“I beg your pardon?” I asked.
“You’re going to have no physical problems from that wreck,” he said. “God is strengthening you so you can be strong for your family.”
The Art of Prayer
I did have some soreness from the accident. I still limped a little and had that sharp pain in my neck when I turned my head just so. It’s typical to have lingering physical problems, which can last for years, from the kind of contortions a body goes through in an accident like ours. The soreness and pain in my neck didn’t vanish immediately, but an amazing thing did happen: following Hillbilly’s prayer—and to this day—I have never needed any medication or medical help of any kind for those injuries and have no residual or recurring problems.
I looked around me at those faithful friends who were gently gripping my arms and shoulders, asking God to intervene for my health. Just the day before I’d been wondering, What do these people really think about me? Here was what they thought: they loved me and wanted God’s best for me.
I felt ashamed for having doubted them. How often did I do others the injustice of assuming the worst about them? I still had my own guilt to contend with, but it was such a relief to know there were brothers and sisters in Christ who had my back, who wouldn’t judge me, and who would pray for me when it was so very difficult to pray for myself. The love they showed filled me with a fresh energy to pray for Alex.
Hillbilly Graham was not finished, however, and he had a question for everyone. “Is there anyone here who has any unconfessed sin in their hearts? We can’t approach God effectively when hiding sin in our lives. He won’t hear us. The only thing we accomplish when we pray without examining ourselves is to obstruct prayer. We need to prepare our hearts, so if there is anyone here who needs to get right with God, now is a good time to take care of it. Let’s bring those sins before God and receive the forgiveness He offers. Let’s be as pure as we possibly can before we take up the huge task of praying for this little boy. Everyone take a moment and reflect silently. First John 1:9 says, ‘If we confess our sins to him, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all wickedness.’ Let’s confess before God and then come together in prayer for Alex.”
There were many incredible prayer sessions during this period, but this one and Pastor Brown’s in the waiting room the night before truly stand out. There was a palpable feeling of the presence of God among us.
In prayer, we reiterated that the doctors had spoken and that we wanted God to have His say. We prayed for Alex’s brain and skull, we prayed for his breathing, for the healing of his spine, and finally that the doorway to death would be locked shut for him. We knew that Heaven awaited him someday, but we believed that God had more for him to do in this world. As usual, Hillbilly led the charge.
There was a midweek church service a week or two later, and the congregation was again praying for Alex while we kept our vigil at the hospital. Hillbilly felt something touch his soul during that prayer, and he began to weep uncontrollably. When I heard about it, I gave him a phone call.
“What is happening, Hillbilly?” I asked. “What made you cry?”
“I had an amazing sensation. Kevin, things are happening in Heaven that concern Alex. The Spirit of God is moving. I could feel it as we prayed together, and I just felt overcome with emotion.”
Science and Sovereignty
The testimony of science said that Alex was unconscious and that he wasn’t even breathing on his own—he was physically incapable of movement. As far as the world knew, Alex lay still and quiet in a coma. The doctors felt there was very little hope for his survival. And even if Alex’s body did continue to hang on, there was the question of his mental function. There had been traumatic injury to his brain, and we were told that the sweet six-year-old boy we had known would never speak to us again.
But Alex’s testimony is that he was as wide-awake and attentive as Beth, the other children, or me. As you’ve already read, he has a detailed memory of how the accident played out. He can remember the men removing him from the car and saying that he was a brave boy. He recalls seeing me get into the ambulance, after the helicopter had flown away—yet he doesn’t remember the helicopter ride, in which he actually participated.
How can we explain these things? Alex certainly knows what he saw, heard, and felt; he has never wavered on any of the details. He offers his memories, and it’s up to the rest of us to draw our own conclusions. It seems to me, on hearing his account, that God allowed my son to see all the events at the accident scene. Then Alex’s spirit was called deeper into Heaven for the remarkable events that were to transpire there.
+ + +
The vertebrae were completely detached. The tendon sheath around the spinal column was severed near the base of his brain. The injury was so severe and so high on the spinal column, it is simply incredible that Alex survived.
Dr. Raymond Onders, Christopher Reeve’s and Alex’s doctor
+ + +
Science presented us with relentless and devastating facts: a severed spinal cord tendon sheath, a broken pelvis, and traumatic brain injury. Furthermore, the injury to his spinal cord was at the C1-C2 cervical vertebrae level—so high that the spinal cord and brain constituted one massive injury field. That in itself is generally enough to cause death. In addition, there was still the possibility of further damage. In the first days following the accident, Alex’s doctors were particularly concerned that swelling in the brain might occur, and with it, increased pressure inside the skull. The surgeons connected a monitor to Alex’s brain to get a reading on his intracranial pressure. The doctors explained this to me, as did Alex, who later told me how it appeared from his vantage point and described the pain it had caused him.
There are scientific facts, and there is God’s sovereignty. Surrounded by prayer warriors, I was reminded of the truth that God is not controlled by what we know. I was determined to pour out my heart to God in hopes that the predictions of the medical community would be confounded. I would soon be joined by more people than I could ever have imagined.
ICU, a House of Prayer
I’ve never been in such a prayer-filled environment as during the time of Alex’s coma. With so many good people lifting up our son and interceding for other children in the ICU and needy people identified by our Web site, the hospital’s ICU became holy ground.
The group supporting Alex began to be a major presence at the hospital. Like the first light of dawn breaking over the horizon and bathing everything in light, people who had come to minister were everywhere.
Our section of the hospital began to look and feel more and more like church. Some people moved their small-group Bible studies from their living rooms to the ICU. Others came to visit and pray every day over a period of weeks. It was strange that my son’s tragedy could create such joyful fellowship, unity, and ministry. But God does work in mysterious ways.
Sometimes God revealed His plans through someone who had come to pray for Alex. One time while my friend Jay stood with me beside Alex’s bed, he gave me a nervous look and began, “I have something to share with you.”
“Sure.” I smiled. “What’s that?”
“Last night I was sitting at home thinking about Alex,” he said. “I began to pray for him, and God suddenly laid something on my heart. Kevin, I realized with absolute certainty that Alex would be fully healed.”
I looked into his face, not knowing what to say. Jay wasn’t the kind of person known for dramatic, supernatural proclamations—I’d never before heard anything like that from him.
I placed my hand on his shoulder and nodded in an effort to appear as if I embraced what he was saying. But he wasn’t finished. With emotion rising in his voice, he continued. “When I was younger, I received a phone call from the hospital one evening. The doctor said my father was ill, but he assured me it was nothing life threatening. I don’t know why, but deep down I just didn’t believe him. Somehow I knew my father was going to die. Don’t ask me how or why—I just knew. I could take you to that house and show you exactly where I was standing when it happened. Soon after I hung up the phone, my father died. I felt grief but was not surprised at all. I knew it was going to happen. Do you understand?”
“Wow,” I said, still at a loss for what to say.
“From that time to this,” he continued, “nothing like that has happened to me again. That is, until last night, when it suddenly came to me that Alex is going to be fully healed.”
I thought a lot about what Jay had said. It was similar to what Dave, who had been on the helicopter with Alex, had told Beth. Then there was Beth herself, who had blurted out a kind of prognosis prophecy about Alex, including that his story would bless people across the nation. There had been any number of statements or stories from people that had been out of the ordinary during this short period. They all had in common a consistent message of hope and healing for Alex.
I wanted to believe. I wanted it all to be true, but I was a long way from receiving it.
A few days later, Jay rejoined us at the hospital and took me aside again. I was eager to hear what he might say this time. But Jay seemed much less comfortable than he had been on the last occasion—almost pained.
“I don’t want to tell you this,” he said.
“But I hope you will,” I replied.
After an anguished silence, Jay took a deep breath and finally began.
“Kevin,” he said, “I know you’ve always believed that Alex was destined to be a pastor. I’m here to tell you that it’s going to be bigger than that. He’s going to be more like Billy Graham.”
Again, it struck me as odd for this particular friend to say such startling things. I’m sure he could see that my eyes were wide open. Like many people, I tend to place Billy Graham on a pedestal. There are Christians; then there is Billy Graham.
“But his impact will be different,” my friend continued. “Billy Graham’s ministry was to teach people how to have a personal relationship with God through Jesus Christ. Alex is going to emerge from his coma, and his ministry will be to show people what God is like. But just like Dr. Graham, your son will have an impact across the world.”
I stared at him with several half-formed words passing over my lips but didn’t make a sound. Showing people the world over what God is like? That’s what Alex is going to do? It’s not that I was opposed to the idea, but the incongruity of it all made it impossible for me to put my thoughts into words.
My friend came to the rescue. “I told you I didn’t want to tell you. It makes me as uncomfortable as you seem to be. It sounds a little crazy, Kevin, I know, and you probably think I’m nuts. But I know it. I know in my heart it’s true, just like I know the sun is shining today—the same way I knew I was supposed to be faithful and give you this message even though I didn’t want to.”
These heady days continued with repeated confirmations about Alex’s coming ministry. But there he was, still in a coma, still breathing only because a machine was pushing air into his lungs, his life hanging in the balance from day to day. It would be months before we saw all the groundwork God had already laid for the fulfillment of His purposes.
The praying continued. Alex’s Army continued to wage battle, and new recruits joined the front line every day.
Alex Online
From the beginning, we wanted to get the word out so that people could pray for Alex. But how could we keep people updated so they would know specifically how to pray? Naturally, the Internet was the way to go. The hospital provided a link on its own Web site to CaringBridge, a nonprofit organization that provides free Web sites to connect family and friends during serious health situations. But for Alex, we wanted a place on the Web that was more personal and that would be designed to bring glory and honor to God.
John Sullivan, a family friend, knew exactly what to do. John is a Web designer, and he took it upon himself to build a site called PrayforAlex.com. He registered the domain, got pictures from us, and put together a beautiful Web site that allowed people to stay up-to-the-minute on Alex’s ongoing story, leave messages for us, and encourage their friends to pray for Alex.
When the site first went live, we had a section called Alex Updates, where we frequently provided new information. John was able to show us how thousands of people were beginning their day by logging on to our site, getting the news on Alex, and praying accordingly. The section for prayer requests was only about Alex’s needs in the beginning, but before long it became a clearinghouse for the needs of others, too. People would post requests, and “Alex’s Army” would take up their causes as well. Then there was a feedback feature on the site, which allowed people to communicate with our family. I remembered back to the year before the accident, when Alex and I had started the “Daddy and Alex Prayer Journal.” We’d write down prayer requests for others and ourselves and circle the request when we felt God had answered a prayer. Now we had what amounted to an online version of that journal—for Alex.
PrayforAlex.com couldn’t have been a bigger success. It was accessed more than one million times during its first six months alone. Most of our family messages were read by one thousand visitors or more. We added a Global Prayer Group section that demonstrated, within just a few days, that our son had countless prayer partners all across the United States and, in a very short time, from around the world, including Australia, Hong Kong, Germany, South Africa, England, Iraq, Costa Rica, Canada, Afghanistan, and Honduras. The Alex’s Army prayer initiative had truly become an international movement. Many of these correspondents reported that their entire churches were praying for Alex.
We began to hear stories of people waking up at the same time each night for weeks or months, feeling a strong leading of the Holy Spirit to pray for Alex. It was not uncommon to hear of twenty or more individuals, spread across the globe, all praying for Alex at the same time. Hearing these reports filled our hearts with the fresh wind of encouragement, revealing that God was up to something magnificent. Knowing that God was moving in the hearts of people everywhere made our hopes soar.
The site had begun simply as a useful tool. What it became was a worldwide forum for God’s work, ministering to us as well as to people we’re likely never to know. It reminded us again that God’s work is not limited, isolated, or performed in some kind of spiritual vacuum. Everything He does is interconnected, so that when He blesses one person there is a ripple effect of blessings at large. The sad or tragic things, too, become raw material for the demonstration of His power.
+ + +
The question I get asked so much is, “Where is God, and how is God in the midst of suffering?” If you ever doubt God is there, remember this: He knew the pain we’d be assaulted with. He supplied His hands, His body, His love, and His compassion in the way He knew He could minister to us and sustain us.
There was an orchestration of people 24-7, sitting with and praying over Alex. People came to us and said, “You don’t know me, but I woke up at three o’clock in the morning and was compelled to pray for your son.” The prime target of the enemy is the nighttime, when our minds and physical bodies are trying to rest. But the Spirit never sleeps.
Beth Malarkey, Alex’s mom
+ + +
Indeed, all things really do work together for our good when we know God.
We dared to face the reality that something as devastating as the automobile accident and Alex’s horrific injuries could actually become an amazing blessing in the hands of the Lord. This didn’t mean we were happy about what had happened to our boy or that we would want it to happen to anyone else. But we knew that, as Corrie ten Boom used to say, “There is no pit so deep that God’s love is not deeper still.” I was learning to trust more deeply in God than I ever had . . . to accept the bitter and sweet of His plan . . . to open myself to the prayers and insights of fellow believers . . . to accept that something beautiful was happening beyond my powers of control or comprehension.
What about Alex? Was he really as unresponsive as he looked? Was he aware of God’s presence? What was he learning . . . experiencing . . . ?
From Alex
Heaven and Earth
We know that all creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time.
Romans 8:22
God created the earth to be a perfect place for us, and we’ve messed it up.
Heaven is the perfect place for His children, and it has stayed that way.
Heaven is what this world was supposed to be.
Lots of things in Heaven are similar to things here on earth. There are trees and fields of grass, lakes and rivers, and many other parts of the earth that we know.
It’s just that in Heaven, every last detail is perfect.
Maybe you will see a sunset and think that it is the most beautiful thing there could be. Or you see a mountaintop with snow on it. And you think—that’s perfect!
But I think it is impossible to describe what I really want to tell you—these things you are seeing are not perfect! They are warped compared to Heaven.
Sin has warped the earth, and even the colors here are less bright than in Heaven.
So there are lakes and other natural things in Heaven, but they aren’t like our lakes. There are also things in Heaven that we don’t have here on earth.
I think my daddy gets frustrated sometimes because I use words like perfect, glorious, or beyond over and over. I have to. Heaven is just not like earth.