Miracles on stage

I applaud you, Sunshine Academy. Here's why.

Rewind two years ago.  There was this precious little girl who (in my opinion) totally stole the show. It was our sweet Piper girl, and life pre-cancer was busy for our little performer. The following year, I had been invited back to the show to see a little girl in my Sunday school class perform. I found myself distracted by the thought of wondering when or if I would see Piper grace the stage with her presence again. I ran to the foot of the cross time and time again, reciting Isaiah 40:31 over Piper's life. That she would run and not grow weary; walk and not faint; soar high on wings like eagles.

Before I became an urban missionary, I worked for five years with special needs kids. I loved it, too. From babies that were born at 24 weeks and spent the first few months of life in the hospital before they were taken home by their parents; to children diagnosed with a low-functioning autism diagnosis and getting ready for kindergarten: I was blessed to play even the smallest part of a support for them and their families. And I prayed. My goodness did I pray. For their survival, for their development, for their cure, for the words I believed they would one day utter: I prayed.

When Piper was being born, I set an alarm to wake me up every hour while my sister-in-law was in labor so that I could cover her entry into this world with prayers of safety for both her and mama. What I am so happy to see now is that those prayers have not expired, and I believe that God still intercedes on her behalf, cancer or no cancer.

When Arellia announced a few weeks ago that Piper was going to be in a performance, I jumped for joy! Look at God, I thought. I forgot about those prayers, but he had not. It is funny how a desperate prayer said one year prior had been lost in my memory bank, yet not lost on God. The show would go on, and so would our Piper girl. It was the group that she performed with that caused these eyes to weep.

Of the eight children that performed that night, five of them had been covered in my prayers at one point during their life. The little girl whose heart had been operated on more times that anyone else I had ever heard of; the little girl whose smile far exceeded the attention her wheelchair brought her; the little boy who stole my heart at Sallie Cone and his little sister, too. And of course, our Piper girl. All of these children with different diagnoses and accompanying prayers. The show was amazing and God allowed me to see that He had heard my prayers for each child and was showcasing it right before my eyes.

At the end of the song, the performers huddled into a circle facing inward.  It was then that a precious little girl was lifted high from within them, and the realization that Piper was "flying high on wings like eagles" was being displayed from an ever-present God whose timing in all things is always perfect.

Please consider to #prayforpiper.

The visit

My husband and I teach a Sunday school class at the church that we attend and one of the things we like to help  our children's pastor do is take roll each morning. It's a simple practice really, and I never really thought twice about it until one name appeared on that list that belonged to a very precious little niece of mine, whose name is Piper.

Last August when her name showed up on the roll, Piper and her parents were already half a year into the treatments that she had to undergo in order to treat the cancer diagnosis. Her immunity would have to be heavily guarded and I found myself thanking God for giving Piper the kind of parents that were more intuned to her medical needs than any I had ever seen  before. As I scrolled through the list of kids that first promotion Sunday, realizing what it must have felt like for my brother and sister-in-law to not send their firstborn off to kindergarten hurt my heart. I remembered what it was like seeing my own boys off those days for the first time.

I looked back down on those list of children and instead of placing a checkmark next to Piper's name, I simply wrote,"God's will be done."

This morning, a beautifully dressed little girl with a long-flowing knit hat made to look like Belle from Beauty in the Beast walked into the children's department at Conway First church of the Nazarene. The other children, though careful about how to respond, rejoiced that the little girl that they have prayed for through her cancer journey, had arrived. A few commented that she had a cool mask on, and I could see her eyes smile beneath her medical mask as she realized that she was among her prayer warriors, and her friends.

The best part of the visit came when I bowed down next to my little niece and prayed during the altar time. I never would have thought that she was watching me or anything, but I realized that she had been when all of a sudden I felt the gentle wipe of a little hand across my face. It was Piper, and she was wiping away my tears. "Those are happy tears, Aunt Sarah, right? Happy tears, right?" she said.

Yes, my love. Those are the happiest tears I know.

Psalms 56:8 You keep track of all my sorrows. You have collected all my tears in your bottle. You have recorded each one in your book.

Thank you, Father. For sending your precious little messenger to bring healing to my heart today.

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.