Tag: God’s faithfulness

Faith Journey, Medical, Opsoclonus Myoclonus Syndrome

New Beginnings: The End of One Chapter, the Start of Another

Brandi C

stay inspired. never stop creating. (5)

New beginnings.


They carry a quiet kind of hope—soft, steady, and full of promise. Today is the last day of June, and with it comes a shift. This is the final post I will write about our journey with Opsoclonus Myoclonus Syndrome (OMS). It’s not the end of the story, but it is the closing of a long and winding chapter—one that has shaped us in more ways than I can count.

Eight years ago, our lives were forever changed when my son was diagnosed with OMS. Everything I thought I knew about parenting, about faith, about strength—was redefined in those early days of chaos and uncertainty. We were thrown into a world of specialists, treatments, therapies, and questions with no easy answers. But through it all, one thing remained constant: God’s faithfulness.

There were moments I didn’t think I could keep going. Moments of fear so deep, it took my breath away. But my son—my precious warrior—kept fighting. And because he never gave up, neither did I.

Today, he is alive. That alone is a miracle and testimony to God’s mercy and power. He still has struggles, and we don’t know what his future holds. But we rest in this truth:

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you a future and a hope.”
—Jeremiah 29:11

We cling to that promise. God has a plan for my son—a plan far greater than anything we could imagine. And so we move forward with hope.

I pray that as you’ve read these posts, you’ve learned something new—not just about OMS, but about compassion. If you ever see a parent struggling with a child’s behavior, please pause before judging. You never know the battles being fought behind tired eyes and brave smiles. Offer grace. Show kindness. Pray for them.

I also pray you’ve seen my heart through this journey. God’s goodness broke and rebuilt my heart. A heart that never stopped hoping—even when the world said there was none.

“Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for He who promised is faithful.”
—Hebrews 10:23

My son is more than a diagnosis. He is a living, breathing miracle. A warrior. And one day, I believe his test will become a powerful TESTimony—pointing others straight to Jesus.

This is not the end. It’s just the beginning of something new. A new chapter filled with purpose, promise, and hope.

To God be the glory. Always.

💛 If you’re navigating life’s hard places and need a safe space to heal, grow, or just breathe—Circle of Hope Counseling Services is here for you.

We offer trauma-informed, faith-filled therapy for individuals, couples, and families.

📞 Reach out today to schedule your first session (KY residents only) or learn more: Circle of Hope Counseling Services.

You don’t have to walk this journey alone. Hope starts here.

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Faith Journey, Medical, Opsoclonus Myoclonus Syndrome

With Every Joy, In Every Hope

Brandi C

With Every Joy, In Every Hope

This journey with OMS has brought me to my knees more times than I can count. It has stretched me, refined me, broken me open—and built something stronger in its place. However, With Every Joy, In Every Hope there is Jesus.

There have been days filled with fear. With doubt. With exhaustion that sank into my bones.
But there have also been days of joy.
Joy that surprised me. Joy that snuck in quietly and wrapped itself around the hardest moments.

And that’s what I’ve learned: joy and hope can live alongside pain.
They’re not emotions reserved for the easy days.
They are gifts from God, woven right into the messy middle of the story.

With every joy—in every smile, every step forward, every laugh that returned after weeks of silence—I saw God’s fingerprints.
With every hope—in every prayer whispered through tears, in every night I chose to believe again—I saw God’s faithfulness.

This journey hasn’t been linear. Healing rarely is.
There were setbacks, victories, and there were days I felt like giving up.
And then there were days when I couldn’t help but praise—because of the progress, because of the peace, because God had carried us one more step forward.

With every joy, in every hope, God was there.
Not one moment missed, not one tear wasted, and Not one prayer unheard.

And maybe you’re in a hard season of your own—maybe your story doesn’t look like mine, but your heart still needs to know:
Joy is still possible. Hope is still alive.
Not because of the outcome, but because of Who walks with you.

💛 If you’re navigating life’s hard places and need a safe space to heal, grow, or just breathe—Circle of Hope Counseling Services is here for you.

We offer trauma-informed, faith-filled therapy for individuals, couples, and families.

📞 Reach out today to schedule your first session (KY residents only) or learn more: Circle of Hope Counseling Services.

You don’t have to walk this journey alone. Hope starts here.

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Faith Journey, Medical, Opsoclonus Myoclonus Syndrome

Hold On to Hope

Brandi C

stay inspired. never stop creating. (2)

When my son was diagnosed with Opsoclonus Myoclonus Syndrome (OMS), the world shifted beneath our feet. It was one of those moments that divides life into before and after. Fear came crashing in, and the questions outnumbered the answers. The only phrase that permeated through my life was “Hold On to Hope.”

In the middle of that storm, Hebrews 10:23 became a lifeline:
“Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for He who promised is faithful.”

It didn’t say, “Hold on when it’s easy,” or “Hold on when everything makes sense.” It said, unswervingly. Without turning. Without hesitation. Without giving in to the fear or the doubt.

That kind of hope doesn’t come from our own strength—it comes from knowing the character of God. And I had to decide: do I believe He is faithful, even when I can’t see the outcome? Even when healing doesn’t look how I imagined? Even when the journey is long, hard, and uncertain?

The answer—again and again—was yes.

There were days I had to whisper it through tears. There were days when I could only breathe it. But I held on. And God held us. Through hospital stays, setbacks, victories, and the beautiful, miraculous moments in between—He was faithful.

If you’re walking through something hard right now, this is for you: Don’t let go. Don’t lose hope. The One who promised is still good. Still present. Still faithful. Hold unswervingly. You are not alone.

Reach Out

💛 If you’re navigating life’s hard places and need a safe space to heal, grow, or just breathe—Circle of Hope Counseling Services is here for you.

We offer trauma-informed, faith-filled therapy for individuals, couples, and families.

📞 Reach out today to schedule your first session (KY residents only) or learn more: Circle of Hope Counseling Services.

You don’t have to walk this journey alone. Hope starts here.

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“Being Brave” — H’s Story in His Own Words

Brandi C

before the shaking began (3)

Some stories are best told in the words of the one who lived them. Here is “Being Brave” — H’s Story in His Own Words.

It’s been almost eight years since the day H’s world changed—and ours along with it. So much of that journey has been shared through my perspective as his mom, advocate, and witness to both pain and miracles. But today, H is ready to share a little piece of his own story. In his words. As he remembers it.

He’s still just a kid. He’s still healing. But he’s brave enough to look back—and kind enough to want others to understand.

So, with his permission, here is H’s story… told from his own heart.

Q: What’s your very first memory of when your body felt different or something felt “off”?

H: I woke up from my nap and when I did, I was shaking and I couldn’t walk.

Q: Do you remember how you felt when you couldn’t walk or when your legs were shaking?

H: I don’t remember. Now, I feel sad when my legs are shaking and my hands are shaking. I am sad because everyone at school asks me why I am shaking.

Q: What do you remember about being in the hospital? Was there a moment that scared you? One that made you feel brave?

H: I remember that it was a big room and there were doctors in there and I was in a bed. The moment that scared me was when I got the tube in my neck. That scared me because, at the end, when they took it out, I puked everywhere. Then I was crying. I remember being in the air watching me and mom, I was laying in mom’s arms and she was telling me to wake up. I felt brave when I came back to my mom that day. I was also brave in all of my appointments.

“Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.”
— Joshua 1:9

Q: What was the hardest part of being sick?

H: The hardest part was when I was shaking a lot, I couldn’t even feed myself and I had to be in a wheelchair and I did not like it because I could not walk.

Q: Can you think of someone who helped you feel safe back then? What did they do or say?

H: Mom made me feel safe. She said that she would stay by my side.

Q: What was your favorite thing someone brought you or did for you when you were hurting?

H: My favorite thing that people brought me were toys and people just being nice to me.

Q: How did it feel to not be able to walk when you wanted to?

H: It felt really mad because I just wanted to walk anywhere and I didn’t have the power to do that anymore because my legs didn’t work.

Q: Were you ever mad or confused? What do you wish people had understood about how you felt?

H: Yes, because I didn’t know why I was shaking and I was mad because I couldn’t walk. I wish people understood what it was like being in the doctors all the time and the feeling of not being able to walk.

Q: What does the word “healing” mean to you?

H: It means that Jesus gave me the strength to walk again.

“He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.”
— Psalm 147:3

Q: If your body could talk back then, what would it have said?

H: It would have said, “I don’t feel good.”

Q: Do you think people understand how hard it was—or do they forget?

H: I think people have forgotten how bad I felt. When some people go through a lot of things, sometimes they don’t remember.

Q: If someone else was going through something hard like you did, what would you want to tell them?

H: I would tell them to be brave because one day, it will all be over.

Q: If your story were in a book, what would the title be?

H: “Being Brave”

Q: What’s one thing about your journey you want to never forget?

H: One thing I don’t ever want to forget is how you stuck by me the entire time.

“Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for You are with me…”
— Psalm 23:4

Q: When you think about your future, what makes you excited?

H: It makes me excited that I don’t have to go through any of this anymore. It is all over and I don’t have to do it anymore.

Q: What are some things you can do now that make you proud?

H: I can walk, talk, and feed myself.

Q: Do you think your story could help someone else someday?

H: Yes because if they were going through hard and difficult things, I can help them understand because I went through the same thing.

Q: What kind of person do you want to grow up to be?

H: I want to be a helper.

Q: How do you think God helped you through the hardest parts?

H: He helped me, just like you, He was there the whole entire time. I also learned that God always stays in the same spot, He never moves.

“Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever.”
— Hebrews 13:8

Q: If your story were a superhero movie, what would your superpower be?

H: It would be helping.

Q: Can you describe what your legs used to feel like—and then what they feel like now?

H: They used to feel terrible and they hurt a lot. Now, they are much better but they still hurt a little when I stay on them for a long time. I have learned to not stay on them for long.

Q: What color would you give your feelings back then? What about now?

H: Back then, they would be pink (loved) because you were by my side and black (angry) because I hurt all the time and I shook. Now, they are yellow (happy) and pink (loved).

Q: What do you think helped you the most when you were hurting or scared?

H: You being by my side.

Extras from H

  • Favorite songs from that time: “Sit at Your Feet” **This is what he said, the name of the song is
    The More I Seek You** and “Shackles”

  • Favorite food during recovery: Caesar salad

  • What he wants people to know: “I want people to know what I’ve been through so they will understand why my hands shake and my legs hurt.”

  • Final thought: “I’m glad that He was always there for me… and so were you.”

💛 The Heartbeat Moment

This is H’s story. His truth. His hope. And his faith in a God who never moved.

He may still have shaking hands and aching legs… but he also has a voice, a testimony, and a calling to help others through their hard things, because he’s lived through his own.

“Let the redeemed of the Lord tell their story…”
— Psalm 107:2a

Thank you for listening to him. For seeing him. For remembering with us.

Because being brave doesn’t mean not being scared—it means standing tall even when your legs don’t work.
And H? He’s been brave since the beginning.

💛 If you’re navigating life’s hard places and need a safe space to heal, grow, or just breathe—Circle of Hope Counseling Services is here for you.

We offer trauma-informed, faith-filled therapy for individuals, couples, and families.

📞 Reach out today to schedule your first session (KY residents only) or learn more: Circle of Hope Counseling Services.

You don’t have to walk this journey alone. Hope starts here.

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Faith Journey, Medical, Opsoclonus Myoclonus Syndrome

Before the Shaking Began

Brandi C

before the shaking began

A Sweet Night at the Ball Field

On this day in 2017, Before the Shaking Began, I had been with my Lady, and I knew her family was coming into town. I wanted to give them time together, so I took all my kids to one of my son’s baseball games. It was a warm evening, the kind where summer storms tease the horizon but never quite make it to the field. The game was something everyone could enjoy, and I looked forward to the joy of watching my kids just be kids.

H hadn’t been to a baseball game since the previous summer. Now that he was a little older—he had turned three that February—I knew he’d enjoy it even more.

And oh, he did.

He absolutely charmed everyone around us. Then, he shamelessly ate their popcorn and nachos with zero hesitation. He cheered loudly, with unfiltered excitement. He was the comic relief for everyone near us, and he loved every single minute of it.

“A cheerful heart is good medicine…”
— Proverbs 17:22a (NIV)

For that moment, everything was sweet and simple. That evening is forever etched in my memory as one of the last “normal” moments we had for a long time.

The Next Day: A Shift in the Air

The conversation from earlier that day—the kind you tuck away in the back of your mind—didn’t resurface until June 7. That was the day the world stopped turning for our family.

H was highly emotional that morning. He was doing things he shouldn’t have been doing, getting in trouble more than usual. His older brothers—sweet and patient—took him into their room to play Legos while I caught up on paperwork and phone calls.

I could hear H yelling at the boys, and I could also hear them giving in. Over and over again. I heard my oldest say, “Stop shaking. You’re not in trouble. Here, take the Lego… stop shaking.”

Stop shaking.

When H got excited or upset, he would sometimes shake his arms and legs. I assumed this was more of the same. I figured his brothers were tired of managing him and needed a break, so I called him back into the dining room.

He screamed the whole walk down the hallway. Honestly, he wanted to stay with the big boys. He cried, shook, and screamed some more. I put him in time out on the step. He continued crying—louder now—and shaking from head to toe.

I told him he needed to stop and that once he did, he could get up. Eventually, he stopped. He got up and went to play with his toys.

The Nap That Changed Everything

Lunchtime came and went. H went down for his usual nap. He had been napping since he moved in with us at 21 months old. That day was no different—he slept until about 4 p.m. My oldest son went to get him up, as he often did. He usually carried H downstairs and set him in my lap.

That moment was no different, either. H snuggled into me, and we talked about his dreams—he had dreamed about his pillow. I hugged him tight and said, “Okay, time to potty, buddy. Can you hand me your underwear?”

It was only about ten steps away.

I stood him up…

He wobbled and he stumbled.

And then… he fell.

He cried out, terrified. My heart dropped.

One of the boys quietly mentioned that the same thing had happened the day before—after a nap—but it quickly resolved, and no one thought to tell me. I brushed off the panic and told myself maybe his legs were just asleep. I snuggled him and rubbed his legs.

After a few minutes, I stood him up again.

He fell over. There was no moment where he could stand up. He couldn’t balance or walk.

“When I am afraid, I put my trust in You.”
— Psalm 56:3 (ESV)

The First ER Visit – Misdiagnosis #1

I gathered our things and called Big Daddy: “You need to meet us at the ER. Something’s wrong. H can’t walk.” I also called my oldest sister—H’s grandmother—and asked her to meet us there.

On the 30-minute drive, H kept repeating: “My legs won’t stop shaking.”

It scared him.
It scared me.

At the hospital, they did a CT scan. It came back normal. They drew blood—without gloves, mind you—and began tossing around terrifying words like Muscular Dystrophy and Cerebral Palsy. Then they pivoted, decided maybe it was Strep, even though he tested negative. They gave us Amoxicillin and sent us home.

We left that hospital with a terrifying truth:
Our baby couldn’t walk.

Friends Who Move Mountains

On the drive home, I started making calls. I called a friend whose daughter had a rare illness and ended up paralyzed when she was little. She is a pit bull—and I love that about her. She pulled strings and got us in touch with a brilliant neurologist. I also called another friend who works in the neurology world. They both said the same thing:

“Get that baby to Vandy. Don’t wait. Don’t let the grass grow under your feet.”

And that’s exactly what we did.

To be continued…

“The Lord Himself goes before you and will be with you; He will never leave you nor forsake you.”
— Deuteronomy 31:8 (NIV)

💛 If you’re navigating life’s hard places and need a safe space to heal, grow, or just breathe—Circle of Hope Counseling Services is here for you.

We offer trauma-informed, faith-filled therapy for individuals, couples, and families.

📞 Reach out today to schedule your first session (KY residents only) or learn more: Circle of Hope Counseling Services.

You don’t have to walk this journey alone. Hope starts here.

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8 Years Ago: The Beginning of Change

Brandi C

opsoclonus myoclonus syndrome header 300x97

8 Years Ago: The Beginning of Change

A Journey of Faith, Fear, and Finding God in the Chaos

8 Years Ago Our Lives Changed, our world shifted in a way we never saw coming. Our youngest son had just turned three, and life felt beautifully ordinary—summer evenings at the ballfield, laughter echoing through the house, and a rhythm that felt familiar. But this date became a line in the sand—the moment everything changed.

What followed was a journey of medical mystery, emotional endurance, and soul-deep transformation. It’s a story marked by suffering, but more than that, it’s a story of survival, surrender, and the relentless faithfulness of God.

Some of these moments still feel too tender to fully unpack. Some wounds remain unhealed. But after eight years, I’m ready to begin telling our story—piece by piece—and allow the Lord to begin mending what was shattered.

Life Before OMS: When Normal Was Enough

Before 2017, I had found a manageable rhythm. My anxiety and depression, diagnosed at 19, were ever-present but contained. I had learned how to live around them—how to build a life that worked within my limits.

I could go to Walmart without disassociating. I could sit in a restaurant and actually order a meal. I was active in church, involved in our homeschooling community, and genuinely enjoyed opening our home to others. It wasn’t a perfect life—but it was peaceful.

But in a single moment, peace gave way to panic.

Thrown Into the Unknown: A Mother’s Relentless Pursuit

When our son became sick, everything changed. My husband had to stay behind with our six other children. That left me—terrified, inexperienced, and already emotionally fragile—to carry the weight of a life-or-death journey.

I had to become the advocate, the nurse, the social worker, the travel coordinator, the warrior. I made the calls, booked the appointments, and crisscrossed states like Kentucky, Ohio, Pennsylvania, Florida, and Tennessee searching for answers.

There was no time to pray about decisions. There was no margin to grieve. I had to bury my fear and keep marching forward, making decisions most parents should never have to face—alone.

Life After OMS: From Warrior to Wounded

Our intense medical travels lasted from 2017 through 2021. After our son’s final plasmapheresis treatment, I stopped traveling long distances altogether. Then, slowly, I stopped leaving the house unless absolutely necessary.

Even things like going out for dinner became mountains I couldn’t climb. Anxiety stole parts of me I didn’t even know could be taken.

I can still work—that’s a space I can manage. I can still attend church—that’s my place of peace. But beyond that? Life feels small now. Controlled. Contained. Safe.

One night, my parents wanted Culver’s. My mom was recovering from surgery, and my dad rarely goes out. I offered to pick it up—but had to type the order into my phone so I wouldn’t forget. I had a panic attack in the car, sobbing as I called my husband. He stayed on the phone the entire time, talking me through a fast-food drive-thru.

That’s where I’m at. And it’s okay to name it.

The Weight of Trauma: Why I’m Still Healing

Years of emergency decisions have left deep emotional bruises. I lived in survival mode so long that I forgot how to live any other way.

“Do you consent to high-dose steroids and IVIG?”

“We need to prepare for the worst.”

“Sign here. And here. And here.”

“Your son needs chemo.”

“You need therapy too. Good luck finding time.”

Every one of those decisions was made in real time, without room to breathe or process. I pushed my own needs aside to save my child’s life. And now? I’m trying to find the pieces of me I left behind in hospital rooms.

A Complex Kid, A Faithful God

Our son is still medically fragile. Stress wreaks havoc on his little body. But he’s here. He’s mischievous, wildly imaginative, and brave in a way I can’t fully describe. Every year on his birthday, I send updated photos to the neurologists who doubted his survival. Their stunned responses always fill me with awe—and gratitude.

I am so thankful for the people who stood by us—those who called, prayed, donated, or simply saw us. My husband and children carried me when I couldn’t carry myself. But in those hospital rooms, it was mostly just me and my son… and God.

And let me be clear: God never left.

Even in the confusion. Even when healing didn’t look the way we wanted it to. Even in the silence. He was there.

Walking Into Healing: One Step at a Time

This story doesn’t have a clean ending yet. There are still panic attacks, still days I cancel plans, still fears I can’t always fight off. But I’m learning to hand my fear back to God—to trust that He’s still writing this story.

I’m ready to start healing. To breathe again. To trust again. Not just in doctors, or therapy, or time—but in the God who never once turned His face away from me.

If you’re walking through something hard, I hope our story reminds you: you are not alone. There is no valley too deep for God’s presence. No diagnosis, no fear, no trauma that disqualifies you from His love or your purpose.

Let’s Keep the Conversation Going

This month, I’ll continue sharing parts of our journey with Opsoclonus Myoclonus Syndrome (OMS)—the diagnosis that changed everything. If you have questions, I welcome them. If you feel led to comment, please do so with kindness.

Thank you for being here—for witnessing our story and holding space for it.

There is beauty on the other side of brokenness. And I believe God is still making all things new—even here.

💛 If you’re navigating life’s hard places and need a safe space to heal, grow, or just breathe—Circle of Hope Counseling Services is here for you.

We offer trauma-informed, faith-filled therapy for individuals, couples, and families.

📞 Reach out today to schedule your first session (KY residents only) or learn more: Circle of Hope Counseling Services.

You don’t have to walk this journey alone. Hope starts here.

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Daily Inspiration by Corrie Ten Boom

Brandi C

Daily Inspiration by Corrie Ten Boom

Corrie Ten Boom is an inspiration to many, and her life is a testament to faith, resilience, and the power of forgiveness. She and her family risked everything to hide Jews from the Nazis during World War II. Sadly, this ultimately is the leading to their arrest and imprisonment in concentration camps. Despite the unimaginable suffering she endured, Corrie clung to her faith in God. She actively was witnessing His faithfulness even in the darkest circumstances.

It’s difficult to comprehend the life she was forced to live—watching her loved ones die, experiencing the cruelty of Ravensbrück, and enduring physical and emotional torment. Yet, through it all, she remained steadfast in her trust in God. Her story is a humbling reminder that even in the face of devastation, God’s love and providence never fail.

One of the most powerful aspects of Corrie’s story is her unwavering commitment to forgiveness. After the war, she traveled the world, sharing her testimony and speaking about the importance of forgiving even the unforgivable. One of the most striking moments in her life came when she was approached by a former Nazi guard from Ravensbrück. This guard has since found Christ. In that moment, she had to make the choice to either hold onto her pain or extend the same grace God had given her. Through His strength, she chose to forgive.

Forgiveness is not always easy, but Corrie’s life proves that it is possible. Her story should inspire us all to trust God through hardship. Also, to love unconditionally, and to forgive even when it seems impossible. Her words and example continue to remind us that no pit is so deep that God’s love is not deeper still.

💛 If you’re navigating life’s hard places and need a safe space to heal, grow, or just breathe—Circle of Hope Counseling Services is here for you.

We offer trauma-informed, faith-filled therapy for individuals, couples, and families.

📞 Reach out today to schedule your first session (KY residents only) or learn more: Circle of Hope Counseling Services.

You don’t have to walk this journey alone. Hope starts here.

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