Piper and Lincoln.

First let me begin this post with a heartfelt thanks for the many people that I know are keeping up with my niece's story and continue to pray for her and the family as she battles something that no parent should ever watch their kids go through. I sometimes wonder if they realize just how real their strength and faith through all this is to those of us looking in; how when we ask ourselves what we would do if put in the same position. I feel like even on the days where they don't even know how to express what this feels like, their underlying faith is testimony enough. It truly is nudging people to look inside and ask themselves,  "What does my faith look like?"

This weekend I was able to spend some time with Piper and Lincoln. We had a pretty good schedule going there for a few weeks of Friday visits, but due to life circumstances, I hadn't been to see her in a couple of weeks. I was expecting to see a new port so I was trying to prepare for what that might look like, understanding that she may have a couple of tubes sticking out of her neck. I must admit I was grateful to see that she hadn't had that procedure yet and pondered the thought of how many times her mom and dad had mentally prepared themselves for one thing or another in the last eight months. I asked myself if undergoing yet another surgery would ever be something that would be considered mundane in the grand scheme of all that her 45 pound body had already endured. I imagined that as a parent, accepting this as a new norm would never be really normal.  I sent up a prayer  asking God that he would never allow me to get complacent in thanking Him for each day that my own kids were healthy, as well as quoted the scripture that I have clung for Danny and Arellia throughout this ordeal, which says, "Because they trust in the Lord, they will renew their strength. Piper will soar on wings like eagles. She will run and not grow weary. She will walk and not be faint." (Isaiah 40:31) I believe this scripture with all of my heart and someday when Piper gets older, I am going to have someone monogram this scripture onto something for her to wear during her first marathon. And maybe her  wedding dress somehow, too. They can do that, right?

Back to my visit this weekend. Piper wantedt to watch Beauty and the Beast so we cuddled up on the couch and watched for a while until the kids got restless and we built a tent and chased each other through the tent entrance and exit. Lincoln confused the word tent with parachute and he kept trying to jump on top of it like it was going to bounce him into the sky or something, but were having fun and that is all that mattered. Once the kids showed signs of tiring, we cuddled back down just in time to see the end of the movie where that big jerk Gaston shoots the beast with an arrow while Belle looks on. Apparently during some part of this, and even though the kids have seen the movie before and I have seen it enough to perform it live on Broadway if ever I needed to, my face showed some signs of worry. I didn't realize it until I looked over at Piper whose face was crinkled up with concern. I asked her if she was ok and she said, "Aunt Sarah, just watch. He's going to be okay," confessing a response evoked because she saw the expression of fear laying across her Aunt's face. I immediately smiled at her and said, "I know he is going to be ok. I must have just forgotten for a second." Truth is, the emotion of the moment had gotten the best of me and there was no hiding it apparently. As soon as I smiled, the kid's faces lit up and we all returned to what we knew was the truth: that the beast would be transformed into a handsome young ruler who would marry Belle. And live happily ever after. I am blessed to have captured the moment with the kids when the beast became a man and you see that happily ever after is actually a reality for the story of Belle and her beast.


Several moments stand out in my mind from the past several months of Piper's journey, but the one that I can't tell without getting excited was when my brother stood before our church during a very-specific night designed to cry out to God on behalf of Piper. That night, my baby brother stood before every member present  and told them that when they prayed for his daughter's life, not to whimper in silence or beg for her life to be spared, but to boldly come to our Heavenly Father and thank Him for the life he was going to restore in Piper by the name of Jesus. The Healer. The Restorer. The Redeemer. The Shepherd. The Almighty. The One whose suffering can take the place of our own. Somehow.

How often do we ourselves forget what we know is going to happen in the end? Have we lived through hard times before, only to temporarily forget the ending like I did when the beast lives on? And when we do, how much do we affect those who may be going through their first storm yet see the fear on our faces instead of the goofy grins that delight in knowing that God already knows because He is already there? He gives us a reason to smile, even if it is for indescribable peace. We know that the world will give us trouble, but we stand on the cornerstone that is Jesus whom is able to see us through. What a reason to rejoice!

So tonight I am going to be a little bold myself. I realize that there are those of you who are keeping up with Piper's story and how Danny and Arellia's faith is strengthening your own. I am so thankful for that. But my question to you, beloved reader, is what do you believe? Maybe you are on the "Praying for Piper" FB page and find yourself questioning how people can handle something like this. Or maybe you casually comment "praying" every time Arellia posts something new. Maybe you really do, or maybe you just say that because it is politically correct to reply in that manner. I get it, believe me, I do. When I first felt the conviction of the Holy Spirit in my life, I searched for an outward expression to declare a change that I had experienced even though I may not have truly known what it meant. But there is real power there. My pastor reminded me today that the same power that rose Jesus from the grave lives in us. In you. No longer are the days where you have to wonder where to cast your anchor in the storm, because he is on the boat waiting for you to glance back and see him
. And when you do, and you release all of the luggage that you are carrying, the hurts that you have experienced, the disappointments in life, the times that you felt alone, please know that someone who suffered way worse is waiting for you to take a deep breath and whisper his name.

You may cry a little, or smile a lot, but whatever your response is to THE response that you make today is, it will be beautiful.

Please let someone know. I would love for it to be me. But mostly, I am glad it is HIM.