answered prayers – Flying Pigs

Luna does not have Leukemia. Her heart isn’t irreparably damaged. We have FINALLY been assured that our wildest child is “normal” by the best of doctors. Yes, we are on the victory side of a mountain that most people were not aware we were climbing.

On April 11, my stalwart child who seldom cries, woke up in pain. I thought it might be lingering problems from a cold. Dr. Hanks happened to have an appointment that day, so I took Luna into her office for precautionary measures.

When we arrived, Luna’s blood pressure and heart rate were scary-high and could not be brought down without medicine. Within hours, we were in Tyler having an EKG, its results adding to our fears. She had blood work done, and many of the markers pointed to the worst of childhood diseases. Luna’s doctor even gave me her personal cell phone number “just in case” we needed it, which only fueled my fear.

I felt alone and scared. I prayed lots. I cried lots. Those closest to us knew what was going on, but as the mom, I still felt the sole burden of the possibilities tightening my chest and stealing my sleep. Even in the worst moments, though, I knew God held us, that His plan is best, that He is the painter of the bigger masterpiece, and He faithfully comforted this worried momma.

The first Hallelujah came when her pediatrician called to tell me that Luna definitely did NOT have Leukemia. The final Hallelujah came on Wednesday when a pediatric cardiologist ran tests on my girl’s wild lil heart and deemed it “normal”. Normal is good. SOOO good.

Other than Luna wearing an ambulatory blood pressure monitor for a day to record her stats, she was released to play sports and be the wild child that she is.

And then it was over. The “well-that-was-a-lot-for-nothing” attitude took over… and I forgot.

I forgot the prayers and the peace in the hardest moments. I forgot the fear and the weight of it all. I forgot to truly praise God for the victory. Moreover, I’m not sure I even really thanked God because my mind fooled me into thinking it was all much ado about nothing.

But it WASN’T nothing. It was terrifying. It was heartbreaking. It was devastating.

I don’t know the bigger picture. I don’t know why her EKG revealed “probable hypertrophic cardiomyopathy”. I don’t know how God worked in her little body during our unbearable wait for her appointment with a specialist. I DO know that He was faithful, even though the extent of His faithfulness won’t be comprehensible on this side of Glory.

So… THIS is my praise and thanks to my loving, faithful Abba Father, shouted from the rooftops of social media. That particular mountain is behind us. It won’t be the last one by a long shot. But we climbed that mountain WITH Him, and it made all the difference. The next mountain might make this one look like a mole hill, but He will carry us up that mountain too, and I pray that I will never fail to give Him the glory He always deserves.

2024 was the best of years. 2024 was the worst of years.

Illness and death. Life and love. Suffocating darkness and breathtaking beauty.

None of us will ever get over the loss of my sister-in-law Trayona, and quite frankly, I don’t think we should get over it. She was extraordinary, and if it takes the grief of all of us to keep her memory alive in our lives, then so be it.

My mother-in-law wore the worst of Trayona’s illness, but as I watched her give absolutely everything she was to Trayona these last two years – every last breath of her life – I was blessed to watch what the depths of love truly looks like. What it takes. What it gives. My mother-in-law poured out everything within her, and though it weakened her health and crushed her heart, watching that boundless love strengthened our whole family.

Love isn’t always warm fuzzies and flowers and foot massages and laughter and excitement for a better future with another.

But sometimes love IS about those things. Sometimes love is exciting yet peaceful, hopeful, right. This year, we got to experience that kind of love too.

2024 took Trayona from us, but it gave to us as well. Ben and Stefanie and Jo and Mason gifted our family beyond what we could have asked. God knew it would take the best of people to help mend our broken hearts, and with these four exceptional individuals, God showed off BIG TIME. We have known Ben for over a decade. We have known Stefanie for a moment in time. Both became family right when we needed them most. I love Ben and Stefanie and their little ones like my own. [PLUS I FINALLY get to pretend I’m grandma to two fantastic lil munchkins. ‘DeeDee’ is a much better name for me than “grandma”, don’t cha think?]

There were so many other blessings from 2024 too:

West and Opie found new purpose and great friends. Jay is growing into a good man and a kind person (though admittedly some ROCKY days spattered themselves across our calendar). Dante was gifted a tiny taste of being big-man-on-campus through a bit of football razzmatazz and a cute girlfriend. Margo is still my miracle child, focused and determined to learn and grow and love. And Luna? Well, we are struggling through some hard days right now, but she will never be able to climb giant mountains if she has no practice scaling the smaller ones. Plus, that little cutie is learning how weak we may be yet how strong God is.

The biggest lesson I learned this year was how powerful a mom’s prayers can be. I prayed and prayed and prayed for my children this year. I poured out my fears and my hopes into the heart of God like never before. God blessed my cries by removing obstacles, planting hope, gifting my kids with lessons learned, and showing up in miraculous ways in their lives. Oh, I realize my intercession didn’t make a single thing happen, but God allowed my pleas to entwine with His plan so that I could be a small part of His will in their lives. He listened to my cries for protection. He eased my worried heart. He answered my prayers.

Our family entered 2024 knowing it was going to be a rough one, wondering if we would survive. I leave 2024 choosing to see the best – and worst of it – as a gift. Life will never be the same without Trayona, but quite frankly we hit the jackpot long ago by being able to call her ours in the first place.

2025 brings lots of unknowns like each new year does. Lots of hopes. Some nagging fears. Only God knows the trials and the triumphs, the mountains and the valleys, the blessings and the uncertainties. People will stay, adding life and love to our world. People will go, leaving behind memories and lessons learned. Hopefully, we will choose to allow every moment to grow us into who we are supposed to be.

Our one constant, the ONLY thing we can count on though, is that God was with us yesterday, He is with us today, and He is already waiting for us in our tomorrows, longing to help us conquer this thing we call life.

To you and yours, Happy New Year!