see all the action live

There's no hiding my love for instagram. 

I don't think you have to do everything online. But woosh, instagram is a goodie. 

And now - with videos? I love it even more. 

Here are a few of my favorite videos I've uploaded recently. 

Meet you on instagram? 

This one is a preview of our Influence Network Worship night. 

Whitewash Films will be doing the real videos!

This video I've watched over and over again when feeling a little lonely in 

these early days of church planting. The Morgans (our partners in business/life/allthethings) 

came to visit a week or so ago and it was such a blessing. This video makes me smile. 

and lastly, this one is me lip syncing in Trader Joes. 
To the song I sang to Nick at our wedding reception 8 years ago. 
Enjoy:) 

it's coming.

When I look in the ten day forecast, I see no high temperatures above 72. 

 Today, I wore a sweatshirt all day without sweating. 

When we drank our coffee in the kitchen this morning, my husband pointed out some yellow tinges on the leaves.

Fall, she's coming. 

Bring on the butternut squash soup, christmas cups at starbucks, deep red lips, quilts, cowls, dark nails, white pumpkins, beautiful leather bags, & root veggies for days. 

Can you feel it? 

What are you most looking forward to? 

For the record - I refuse to start the fall without my cowl or nest ring from MelodyJoy1983.  And she's having a buy 3, get 1 free sale. And she didn't pay me or ask me to tell y'all that. It's just cause I know you need both in your life. 

snapshots of a blessed life.

The more birthdays that go by, the more I feel straight up spoiled by the Lord. 
We don't have a lot of money, we don't have a fancy house. 
We don't necessarily live in our dream city and Lord knows I occasionally feel sorry for myself because I miss my family. 
But goodness gracious - I'm grateful for our life. 

I'm a fan of this one. 

My birthday weekend started on Thursday night when I got to go on a date with the hottest guy I know. We ate some pizza and breadsticks so good that I couldn't help repeatedly saying "thank you JESUS! thank you JESUS!". Nick said we didn't need to formally bless the food because I was doing it so exuberantly. 

Then we went to a movie and went home ALONE because our bebes were at a sleepover. Which meant we could SLEEP IN UNTIL 8:30 on my birthday morning. I laid in bed and read sweet twitter messages and emails and then went on a quick run. Stopped at my neighbor's house at the end of my run and heard about some miraculous things the Lord was doing in her life that we'd be praying for. Walked in to find a package from my mama + sister and packed up my books and quiet time material to go to a late breakfast/reading date with my man. Stick a fork in me, I was already done!!!!

baby bump + apple & bacon donuts = happy jess.

Kids came home, we cleaned house and started cooking and then had a dozen or so friends over for a birthday eating fest. We all made "southern-ish" treats, but really everyone just brought the MOST DELICIOUS THING they could think of. There were bacon apple donuts, gooey brownies, mini apple pies, baked brie & walnuts with pears and apples, peaches & cream. Ya'll. I could go on. I would've unbuttoned the top button of my jeans if they weren't already held together by a hair tie. 

Saturday and Sunday were filled with more sweetness. A manicure from my mama. Hanging with neighbors in the front yard. Haircuts for kiddos. 

when my sister saw this picture she said, "do you really have that many friends?".
I think... I do! 

I'm just writing all this to say, I feel like the Lord gave me one massive gift this birthday. He gave me eyes to see that spending a minute mourning what ISN'T in my life is very silly and futile and wasteful. It isn't a lot of things, but it IS exactly what it's supposed to be. 

You know that feeling you get when you realize you're not in school any more, there is no big assignment coming up - you can just live? Even though I still have work and assignments and days to get through, I'm having that feeling. Something lifting that says - You can just live! Just live and know you're a daughter. And you're blessed, ok? 

I am blessed woman. 
And I have a feeling you are too. 
Even if it's in a totally different way. 

the seven year itch.

Monday night we went out for sushi. Sushi is my new love language. 

Monday was Nick and I's seventh anniversary. 

Ya'll. If I don't write all lovey dovey schmupy about my husband on the blog often enough, it's because  I don't really have the words and I also don't want to sound braggy. But the truth is, I've landed on the very blessed end of a very sweet marriage. My husband is a hot, servant-hearted, gentle, forgiving, wise, amazing Dad, and did I mention hot? 

We've got our own issues. Most of them revolve around me being all the things he's not. 

Our marriage isn't perfect and we bicker and we're silly sometimes. 

But all in all, I couldn't be more thankful for what we have. 

us.

I hear a lot of talk about the seven year itch. 

And I'll tell you the truth. I get it. 

All of a sudden, you find yourself STUCK. I think there is something about seven subsequent years of sharing a bed, sharing a roof, sharing your money, your time, your kids, your heart, your pain - that makes you start to realize, 

THIS. THIS. IS. NOT CHANGING. 

doesn't everyone try on their wedding dress seven years later? 

You don't have any money, he's there. 

You go through a health crisis, he's there. 

You gain/lose 50 pounds, he's there. 

You start something exciting, he's there. 

And you start to see - whatever comes, kids, blessings, trials, friends, opportunity, loss. 

They are all just the paint on the wall and he is furniture that is nailed down. 

Never leaving.

And I can imagine, that might feel like stuck. 

But I can promise you, it's the best kind of stuck feeling there is in the world. 

He's the closest physical representation I have of Christ and he mirrors Him so well. 

I am stuck with you, babe. 

And it sure doesn't itch. 

what's in it for me.

I have no idea how to classify this post. 
It started out as "here are a few links" type of post and in my heart, before I've written any words, it's evolved into a whole 'nother beast. 
Hopefully it will be a blessing. 
If nothing else, skip to the links:). 


A few funny things have happened lately that 
left a weird tone ringing in my heart. 
#1 - someone referred to me as a fresh, new blogger on "the scene" (you can laugh)
#2 - someone heard about the eBook and said "oh! I didn't know you were a writer!"
#3 - I've heard women blatantly reference online endeavors and ask - "what's in it for me?". 


All of these things got me thinking. 
If you don't know the backstory - I'm not really a fresh new blogger on the scene (though I was super humbled to be referred to as such). I've been really intentionally, faithfully blogging with purpose for about five years. I was faithfully blogging with intention (and lots of typos) and prayer when 50 people read it and when 500 people read. It felt important to me when I had no idea what a blog follower even was. Moreover, I only blog because I'm a writer. I'm old school and I started blogging when you blogged because it was an outlet for writing, not because it was the thing to do or the way to build a brand. That's why you won't see me doing a lot of the typical "blogging" things like fashion posts, recipes, etc. There is nothing wrong with those things - I've just always blogged because of writing itself, even though I've gotten easily sidetracked before.


And lastly, I've been doing this blog and a few other online endeavors for a long time without much of it actually tangibly blessing me. I obviously do paid sponsorship now and what not, but the fact is: most of what I do online - Sashes, She Reads Truth, Influence, emailing women, video chatting etc. is just because I believe it's a ministry. Because I look at this laptop and see more than just an outlet for my own desires or a money maker - I see a way to IMMEDIATELY encourage other women. 


I'm really, really, really THANKFUL for all the ways the Lord has given me to minister online. Seriously. I'm really, really, really GRATEFUL that He's given me influence to make much of Him with. But I'll be honest and tell you the other day, I got done with one video chat and looked at my to-do list for the day and hung my head and cried. And I cried to my husband and to the Lord and said - I really feel like I've been toiling and working and emailing and working and striving and praying and staying up late every night for years now for this ministry. For these women. Yet, I often feel unknown and misunderstood and super under-appreciated - which I know is a completely prideful waste of my heart time. At this point, it feels so important to me that we all catch His vision for what He can do online and what He longs to do in our real lives if we will look past our own perceived value and need for appreciation.


It's more than blog sponsorship money. 
It's more than your klout score. 
It's more than your beautiful pictures. 
It's more than your cool new linkup. 
It's not about what is in it for us.
And I am reminding myself of that today. 


That being said - I am praying for a season of harvest in my personal ministry. I've been putting in lots of work and lots of prayer and lots of time for the last few years and now with the conference, the eBook, Sashes, the shop - all of it, I am praying for the Lord to use that work and make much of Himself. As much as He can from this life and this voice. So if I'm praying for harvest however He wants it. 
Tangible harvest or behind the scenes. 


And here are some links that I'd love to share with you. 
They're worth it. 
They're for women who are more about Him than they are about them. 
Check them out and you'll be blessed. 

She Reads Truth. 

Influence Conference Site. 

Sashes to the Merchants. 

(ps: I accidentally posted this a few days early and quickly deleted it, but not quick enough:) I got a few emails from people making sure I was ok and feeling appreciated. That blessed me so much BUT the purpose is more to encourage others if the Lord has called you to something where there isn't a ton of visible fruit. Even if there's "nothing in it for you". I'm encouraging me too.)

fave night of the month

Seriously, I am quickly developing a new favorite night of the month. 
A few months ago, I changed the way I did sponsorship on my blog and decided that more than guest posts and giveaways, if women were trying to grow their online endeavors - the best thing I could offer them was community and encouragement. 

And so far, that was one of the best "professional" blogging decisions I've made. 
Last night I had our monthly call with Ashley, Brittany, Melody, Alissa, Tiffany, Nat, and Michelle.
We missed you Brittany, Shannon, &  Emily! 
We laughed, I don't think we cried, we prayed, we had fun and I'm pretty sure we all left encouraged and excited to do what the Lord has for us. 


On the group video chat, we get to know one another - what businesses/endeavors/blogs we're running. We share strengths and encouragements. We ask questions. We pray. And when we leave, we get off that video chat with a few more friends and allies. 


If you'd like to be a part of this fun little posse in July, you can find out more details here and sign up right on my blog. 
It's gonna be a fun month around here for SURE! eBooks, funny stories, family stuff, and more! 
Join the party! 

coming home.

Welp. That was really fun. 
I wanted to swing into rest and I swung like a crazy 
tarzan woman screaming from the top of her lungs.
I didn't really believe that I'd stop working THE WHOLE time we were gone. 
But I did. 
I don't think I expected to rest quite so much or play quite so much. 
But I did. 


In fact, here is what I expected/hoped:
- I expected to feel torn and bad about not working/not answering emails.
- I expected to lose about 5 pounds because I was going to exercise every day while gone.
- I expected to work hard to make sure my husband got time away.
- I expected myself to write an eBook and about a months worth of blogs.
- I expected that I'd work on about 30 custom orders, 15 new prints, and get lots of design inspiration.
- I expected to really hear from the Lord, maybe something big and refreshing.
- I expected to read about 7 books. 


instead, here is what actually happened:
 - I did not feel torn at all. Men do not feel torn on vacation. 
Neither should work at home mamas. I don't feel bad about the emails or the waiting work. 
- I gained 5 pounds for sure. Nightly cookie and ice cream consumption was worth it. 
- Nick and I found we weren't craving tons of time away, but we sure got it. Our kids were just such a perfect age for vacation this year. We could sit on the beach for two hours and get in a mini-date while we held hands and they played. Plus, my mom let us go one like 4 dates in two weeks. But in general, I feel like I just got to utterly enjoy my kiddos for two weeks. With no distractions. Amen. 
- I DID WRITE the eBook and I'll tell you more about that tomorrow:). 
I didn't write any other posts. Not one. 
- After the first two hours of our drive to the South, I didn't work on a single custom order. I do hope to get a leeeeetle work done on the drive back.
- I don't feel like the Lord gave me any massive revelation or word or verse. But I spent some time with Him and my heart is just surging and pumping about spending time with Him in real life too. 
- I read about 3 pages of the 7 books but I know that the Lord has given me a desire to actually have the kind of life and schedule back home that allows for leisure reading in real life. 


Also, maybe one day I'll learn not to set stupid expectations. 
I've got a grateful heart like you 
wouldn't believe. 
And I'm headed home. 

(more on the eBook tomorrow. 

I am overjoyed to share it with ya'll) 

a day in the life.

Because I love when other bloggers do it. 
Because I hope it imparts grace to see other people's normal lives. 
Because I really love this season in our family and I want to cherish it. 
I documented the big parts (and missed a few parts, I'm sure) to just a random Monday - my husband's day off. 

5:30am
Nick's emergency alarm goes off that warns me I HAVE to get up to go to my temporary babysitting job that I've taken over for a friend. My alarm goes off at 5 and if I get up then, I have time to go buy coffee before babysitting. If I wait till the emergency alarm like today,  I have to microwave day old coffee since I don't have time to make it. 


I throw on some clothes (and earrings), grab my bible, books, and laptop and head to the babysitting job. The kids are still asleep so I say bye to the mom and get comfy. 
Quiet time. #shereadstruth A little prayer and journaling. 


Then a little work. Design work. Make a list for the day. 
Stare into space for a second. 

7:15am 
Babysitting job over. 
I grab coffee on the way home for Nick and I. Just to celebrate. 
It's his day off!
And I love him. 

7:25am
I come home to these cuddling cuties. 
yep, glory puts on her metallic shoes at 7am. 
I cuddle with them for a few minutes before going to get breakfast started. 

8:30am
Grapefruit & strawberries for me. Yogurt bowls & silly faces for them. Daddy always has an omelette.
We have funny conversations about the day. 
About how many days till vacation and about how many days till their best friends, Eden and Elijah come home. They are starting to pray - not sing pray, just in these last few days. It does weird things to my heart. It thrills me to hear them talking to God and it cautions me to be remember that He hasn't grabbed their souls yet. For sure not Benja and Glor. So it's beautiful, but it's not the end all be all, you know? 


After breakfast they head up stairs to play and I start the first scatter of the day. Any toy, piece of clothing, dish, piece of trash I can find - gets scattered. Toys on the steps, clothes to the laundry. Dishes to the piling up sink. 

9:30am
Downstairs is all scattered and candles are lit. Upstairs looks like a toddler hurricane hit. Oh well. It's Monday. 
Nick is in the office having some much needed abiding time. 
Kiddos have a quick separate reading time, aka - give your mama ten minutes to put her clothes on. I love that Benja loves to read his Bible. It's his go to book. 
But you know again - not trying to build baby pharisees. It's just a sweet stirring that I pray the Lord continues to grow. 
I catch sight of Glory playing quietly in her room and my heart just flips with gratefulness. Holy mackerel, that girl is my favorite. 

10:30am
Mama is dressed. Sort of. Good enough for today. 
Kiddos are dressed and Elias put on all of the clothes I laid out for Benja,  which is hilarious. His 2t pants and his shirt. We go with it and call the pants capris. :) 
We do some reading time on the porch, check on our birds, and watch a quick science video about pollenation. Who know flowers had such complex anatomy? Yeesh. 
At one point I lose my temper and realize our front door & windows are open. My neighbors are now well acquainted with my sin. My kids are already too acquainted. 
I apologize. For the first time of the day. 
We always say - our kids will know one thing: they'll know how to apologize. 
Because we're fallen up in here. 

Next up we make pollenating flowers out of playdoh while mama does the laundry and a little bit of the dishes. The colors get mixed up and Benja falls off the bench and woosh! How about a quick show on PBS? We all need a breather:)

noon 
Mama eats lunch standing up and Daddy gets done with his work out and swoops in so I can join my online huddle. I love this group. I originally doubted if real discipleship and growth could happen online. It's been a year and I have no doubts now. So thankful for this time. 


1pm
After huddle, Daddy takes over the afternoon for rest time and it's my work time. On Mondays, I typically just try to organize my work for the rest of the week. Start on emails. Figure out what's urgent. Plan for my time with the kids. Today I get distracted (in a good way) by a call from my Dad and he's on my heart too much for me to get any more work done. I work on one more quick project and head out for my run. 

4:00pm
I love Fort Wayne. 
I really love running in Fort Wayne. 


4:45pm
I walk the last block back to my house and hallelujah! It's porch time. It's Monday, Nick's off, workout and work is done (for a few hours) and now it's porch time. What could be better?! We wave at neighbors and watch our birds. 

Nick and I sit and hold hands and the kids play, play, play. 
Glory "makes a salad" with six or seven leaves for an hour. And she climbs the tree. So high. The sons of thunder play with their stick-guns and climb trees and be boys. 
Nick and I talk about things we could ask the Lord to do in us over our upcoming vacation. 

5:30pm
We're all having easy separate dinners, but together. 
Making it fancy for the kiddos with rice pasta mac & cheese in coffee mugs. 
Raw cabbage & a beef patty for the lady and a salad for Nick that I want to steal. 
Glory asks about the bad man who "steals and de-stroys" and we tell her once again, we don't need to be scared of him. Jesus already defeated him. On the cross! For her!


Benjamin tells us his favorite part of the day was "eating food". 
He always says that:). 
Elias tells us that he learned during "science" that scientists use seeds to make medicine. 


6:30pm
Cuddling again, we watch a quick Maya & Miguel together. 
Afterwards, we peel ourselves off the couch and while Nick cleans - I take the irish triplets upstairs. Glory has her first real tantrum of the day and ya'll, it was only hilarious. I laughed forever and ever. It was over a jammie shirt she didn't want to wear, but of course we couldn't give in. Thirty minutes later, a million tears, and a bunch of laughing later - I climb in Elias' bed with all three of them and read. We read two real books and then Benja's choice - which is really a baby book with no sentences. 


At first we work on sounding words out, but I can tell they're too tired and it's making them feel defeated so I let them tell me the colors of everything. I know they're 3, 4, and 5 and all know their colors well - but it makes them feel like winners of a few minutes and it's worth it. :) 

7:30pm
While they get a few more minutes to read in bed, I start the coffee. 
Workday part 2, here we come! Emails and design and work awaits! 


I stand and soak up the sweetness of my kitchen. Cool, cool breeze blowing in. 
Just this morning - 14 hours ago, I prayed that God would make me like a refreshing breeze in our home. 
There is grace where I've failed. 
There's hope in Him tomorrow. 

a true story, I don't have time.

Can I get Hallmarky with you for a minute? 
I think something I'm realizing is that the more you thank the Lord for your blessings, the more overwhelmingly blessed you feel. 

This year, for Easter, all I wanted to do was just really whole heartedly praise Him for what He did for me. And even in that desire, I knew it wasn't possible. I knew I couldn't actually muster up some sort of complete and pure praise of what, the whole cross? All of salvation? It's like the sunniest day that we've ever known and all we can do is squint and see the tiniest amount of light. My heart is squinting and knowing, "wow - I'm saved. Christ died for me. While I was still a sinner." And that one ray of light that eeks in behind the guard of my shading fingers and eyelashes and mostly-closed squint, and it stuns me. 

But somewhere during the week last week, I felt this charge to throw off what was hindering me and CELEBRATE. Easier said than done. I started over about 129 times. 
But each time I reminded myself, "Christ DIED for me." "I have been saved from death, from meaninglessness, from terror, from depression, from despair, from myself, from insanity...." or even, "Christ loves me. Just me. As I am.", those thoughts changed everything. 

I started thinking about that line from the John Mark song, "I don't have time to maintain these regrets when I think about... the way, He loves me...". And it's so true and so trite. 
Him alone. Is enough. But I'm finding when I count Him enough. 
He shows me all the other things. 

So this weekend was filled with much praise. 
And easter egg hunting. And food. And a datenight with the most handsome man I know. 
And thrift shopping. And beautiful conversations. And dreaming. 
And worship. And watching baptisms of the saints with my precious church. 
And ugly crying through praise. 


And girl, you know it was filled with other stuff. 
Headaches, fears, sadness, life. Pain, flesh, this world. 
But I don't have time. 
I don't have time to maintain those regrets. 
Haven't you heard? 
Jesus gave me new life. 

glory's story.

Today is the year anniversary of Glory's massive set of seizures that landed her in the PICU last year, where she was eventually diagnosed with epilepsy. This is the first time since then I've sat down with the intention of writing that whole story. I pray it does nothing but direct all of our eyes to Jesus in praise. 


For weeks, we'd known something wasn't right. Beginning in early February, it seemed like Glory was on a mission to win the award for "most terrible twos/threes in America". She'd always been passionate, she'd always been a little on the wild side - but all of a sudden, I could barely contain her. She'd have three hour long fits where she cried and banged her head against things. The tiniest of issues would set her off for a day of crying and fits. She truly did not like people, or really even like us - and she'd always LOVED PEOPLE. I wasn't sure what to think. In my mama heart, I knew something was seriously wrong. I'd talk to people about it and everyone told me to chill out. Everyone said, she's just two going on three! She's a girl! She's emotional! But I knew something was wrong. 


The night before, it was a Saturday night. She'd had an awful day. An awful day. I was skyping with a sweet friend after she'd fallen asleep and told her all about Glory. I told her about when she was diagnosed with Trisomy as a baby. Told her about how we thought she'd die then. I told her about her hydrocephalus and her allergies and how she cried for the first six months of her life. And for whatever reason, I teared up and I confessed to my friend that I felt like the Lord was still wanting us to have open hands with her. It didn't feel like fear or paranoia, I just knew that the Lord wasn't done with her and I needed to hold her loosely. 


That night, Glory didn't sleep at all. Nick and I were up with her constantly. She wasn't upset or sick, just wandering the house. Walking around. Playing with toys at 3am. We were upset and yet, growing more used to her erratic behavior and bad sleeping. 


The next morning, I got up and was having my quiet time in my usual spot on the couch. Eventually Elias joined me and cuddled up next to me to watch some cartoons. Just before seven a.m, I think, I heard some strange noises. It sounded like growling. I was sure Glor was playing and was going to wake up Benjamin so I walked quickly to her room and saw her laying in bed, on her knees, with her face buried in a pillow. It looked like she was screaming into the pillow. I asked her to stop and she didn't. I called her name and she kept going. 


My heart sank. I ran to her, grabbed her, and the worst 30 minutes of my life began. Time was such a blur. She was on fire, so hot to the touch. She was growling and her eyes were rolling back in her head. She was obviously having a seizure and as the minutes passed - I realized seizures didn't last this long. Right? Right? 


I was screaming. Nick! Jesus! Nick! Jesus! 
The two names that help me so much. 
Nick ran around me. Calling the ambulance. Packing bags for the boys. Dressing the boys and himself. All the while, I held her and screamed at the top of my lungs. 
He screamed too. Oh Jesus. Oh Jesus. 
I'll never forget the sight and sounds of those minutes. Nick buzzing by me, while he sobbed and screamed. Her face and the sounds she made. 
She never stopped seizing. 
She was so warm. 
Elias was completely un-phased. At one point, he came and put a hand on her forehead and said something along the lines of - yeah, she's throwing up. She does this mom.

The ambulance came and in the beginning, they were reassuring. She is probably seizing because of her fever. She is probably just having a fever induced seizure. She'll be ok. I called my mom and sister in a moment of calm. She even stopped seizing for a few minutes. She could semi respond to her name with blinks. I just held her and held her in the back of the ambulance. She started seizing again. The paramedics were tender and they made it clear that this wasn't normal. She wasn't responding to any medication. 


We got to the hospital and a sweet friend came to take the boys. My mom and sister were there. The Hogans came. Her seizures got quieter and more subdued but they didn't stop. She laid on the gurney in the ER and her little toes flexed and her eyes rolled back in her head. 
I'm sad to admit my only thought was, 
"this is it, huh - Lord? this is the thing. you're going to take her." 
At one point a nurse broke down crying with me. Which was totally unprofessional and totally the most loving thing in the world. Nick prayed and the look on his face broke my heart. We both were expecting the worst I think. 


A few hours after we got to the hospital, they moved her to the PICU and explained two things: a) her seizures had mostly stopped b) they had to use so many sedatives to get her seizing to stop, they didn't expect her to wake up for days. We'd have to see what was going on in her brain when she woke up and then move forward. There was a baby in the PICU at the same time who had seized for 45 minutes and was severely "brain injured" because of it. She'd seized for HOURS. 


If you know Glory, you know she doesn't like to follow rules.
She woke up about 30 minutes after the doctor said it would take days. 
Kristin and I were all but curled up in her bed. Reading Isaiah 61 over her. 
Her eyes flickered and she moaned and flicked my hand. 
Said "mama". 


The next few minutes of relief and praise were quickly followed by three days of terror. She was awake, but she was absolutely not herself. For the first day or two, the doctors urged us to not be worried. She'd been through a trauma and it would take awhile to get the sedatives out of her system. So for three days, we held a little girl who was a broken and violent and scary version of herself. She ripped out IV's, screamed at and bit nurses, become inconsolable at the mention of her beloved brothers and yeah... she just wasn't herself. She couldn't form words the same. I can still hear her voice in those days. When she did talk, it was really only understandable by Nick and I and she sounded like sad, drunk bird. It broke my heart. Broke my heart. She couldn't walk. She couldn't really hold her self up to sit up straight. She wouldn't sleep. She couldn't be consoled. Those days were an endless blur of tests, fits, and then sitting as quietly as we could when she would finally scream herself into a few minutes of sleep. We kept praying that like the little girl in Mark chapter 5, Jesus would heal her and she'd wake and be able to eat. 

The tests were showing a small amount of scar tissue , possibly caused by her hydrocephalus when she was in utero. That was the only thing that could be causing the seizures that they could see and they had hope that she could literally grow out of it, as her brain grew, but there was a growing concern among the doctors about her behavior. She wasn't snapping out of it. The sedatives weren't wearing off. 
One night, her doctor sat us down and had a frank talk with us. 
She should be walking and talking by now. 
He said he needed to see a different girl in the morning or else we'd start back as square one and start evaluating just what sort of brain injury we were dealing with. 


And then, a few important things happened. In a span of about an hour, a few different visitors came into her room and saw her behavior and were bold enough to ask us if we'd thought anything about Matthew 17. The story where Jesus heals the little boy with epilepsy by casting a demon out of him. It wasn't a crazy jump to make looking at her, I'll tell you that much. Those visitors came and left and all at once, Nick and I looked at one another and just knew. Not necessarily that she was demon possesed, but that we were fighting a spiritual battle and we'd been fighting with the wrong weapons. 


We knew what we needed to do. 
We asked the nurses for some privacy and closed the door. 
We pulled out our bibles and the next time Glory fought herself into sleep, we went to business. We prayed for what felt like minutes, but was actually hours. We confessed some things to the Lord, we confessed some things to one another. We called on the name of Jesus to heal Glory from whatever darkness had been plaguing her. In short, we sought the face of our loving and gracious and powerful Father and we asked him to do some healing. Our family had experienced a whole lot of breaking and darkness and pain, and we begged Him to turn the page. 


Sometime during that night, my sister felt prompted to organize a prayer vigil for us. She called on dozens of women to pray through the night. That's another thousand words in itself. As the weeks passed, I heard some of the craziest, most beautiful stories of things the Lord did that night in the hearts of those who prayed that night. We didn't know any of this was happening, but we knew one thing had changed. The fitful, sleepless, crazed little lady who had been with us hours before was sleeping peacefully in her bed. I laid on the hospital couch and Nick made a cot on the floor. I woke only once in the night and was overwhelmingly assured with one thought and one thought alone - THERE ARE HUNDREDS OF ANGELS IN THIS ROOM. I'm not sure how I knew and I'm not sure how presumptuous my faith was in that instant, but I still believe it. She was still sleeping sweetly, and there were hundreds of angels in that room. 


The next morning, we all woke up around the same time and I watched in terror and then in absolute disbelief as Glory hopped out of bed, walked cautiously over to me and said, "Mama - I'm hungry!". That morning she ate breakfast. Well, she ate breakfast about 5 times. She walked with assistance to the hospital playground and played and played. She got to go outside and pick some flowers. 
And finally, the doctor came to see her and he said, 
"Well. This is a different little girl."


The rest of the story isn't so important. Of course, the doctors were amazed. Of course, we felt relief and fear and gratefulness and more fear. My close friends know I was pretty paranoid for months and I think she may have had a few more small seizures after that. Nick thinks it was all in my head:). I know this - she never did have another big seizure. At every neurologist appointment since then, they've seen no signs of epilepsy or nerve damage. And a few months ago, her doctor urged us to wean her off her high powered anti-seizure medication. 

And that's this small part of her story now. 
Today we talked to her about it, and she can barely remember it. 
But we can. And we can give him praise. 
He didn't have to heal her. He could have left her brain damaged and seizing for the rest of her life. He could have taken her. 
We didn't deserve her in the first place and we still don't. 
And we know, we still have to have our hands open with all these kiddos. 
Stewarding them while we hold them open to Him. 
Since they're His anyhow. 


But we will give Him Glory. 
For the great things He has done.