Scrolling Through the Storm – Facebook Memories from the Fight
Every now and then, I open up my Facebook memories and come face-to-face with the version of me who was holding it together with prayers, sarcasm, and sheer willpower.
These aren’t polished updates or carefully worded reflections. These were typed in hospital rooms, from car seats, late at night, or early in the morning—usually with swollen eyes and a half-drunk Coke beside me.
These are the words I posted when my baby couldn’t walk, when I was being told the worst, when the answers kept changing, and when God kept showing up anyway.
I’m sharing just a few of those moments here.
Because sometimes, when you look back at where you’ve been, you remember just how far you’ve come.
📆 June 7, 2017
“Guys…needing prayers. Yesterday afternoon, H (3) began shaking and was unable to walk. We went to our local and they gave him antibiotics for zero reasons and sent us home. Luckily, I have friends that are very wise. We were told to take him to the ER in another state. We finally got here around 1:30 and at about 5:30 we got a room. Please pray that we can find the reason he cannot walk and why he shakes uncontrollably…”
I can still feel how torn I was. My baby was sick, my Lady was having a procedure, and I felt pulled in a thousand directions. I didn’t know how much more I could stretch. But we kept going.
📆 June 14–17, 2017
“We are home BUT leaving again in the morning. One of his tests came back with inflammation in his brain… back to another hospital in another state for a sucky 5 days of heavy steroids. Still no dx. Sigh… holding onto the Rope.”
“Waiting on dr #572 to come in this morning. Getting ready for round 3 of heavy steroids. Good times had by all.”
“Steroids suck on a kid but good on the infection. Baby is… wowzer… emotional. No walking alone today. His speech is beginning to be impaired… so there is that.
But… my baby took 10 unassisted steps tonight.“
This was the rollercoaster: one minute we were breaking, the next we were standing on holy ground watching a miracle.
📆 Fall 2017–Winter 2018
“Please pray for my baby… extremely symptomatic and throwing up after IVIG.”
“My boy is in a lot of pain… prayers for an easy night would be welcomed.”
“Heard the words ‘H is medically fragile’ today by our pediatric neuro nurse… made me vomit in my mouth a little.”
“Sometimes reality sucks… but then… there is Jesus.”
Those late-night cries, the moments I hated the words, the way OMS became this unwanted shadow in our home. But even in all of that… there was still Jesus.
📆 January–February 2018
“Tomorrow is IVIG day and Tuesday is chemo. We will also be retested to check to see if he has any cancer markers…”
“He. Has. Been. Up. Since. 4 am. God gives us both strength.”
“Guess who was granted a wish from Make a Wish??????? So excited. Something fun for a change. Thank you Jesus :)”
“Friends, Neighbors, Countrymen… lend me your eyes. I’m here to announce H DOES NOT have Friedrich’s Ataxia… and as of now, he DOES NOT have Neuroblastoma. Thank you, Jesus!”
The fear we lived with daily was so heavy. But God gave us little glimmers of joy—even a wish, even a diagnosis ruled out—to hold onto.
📆 Random Snapshots from the Storm
“Swaddled H to pull out his stitches. He was so brave.”
“’Roid rage… alive and well today. Does anyone want an almost 4 yr old for a while? He’ll be sitting by the mailbox waiting for pickup.”
“Brother called to talk about bathroom tile. I sobbed so hard he couldn’t understand me. He led me back to Jesus instead of letting me wallow.”
“Well… that was like jumping naked into a nest of iridescent baby ticks.”
Y’all, I survived this season with Jesus and jokes. Some of these posts still make me laugh-snort through the tears. Because even when I was breaking, I didn’t break all the way.
“Though I walk in the midst of trouble, You preserve my life…”
— Psalm 138:7a
💛 Heartbeat Moment
Reading these again… it still hurts. But it also humbles me. Because I remember the depth of the valley—and the One who walked with us through it.
I remember how the prayers poured in. I remember the kids who made dinner. The texts. The hugs. The late-night worship songs. The Coke bottles passed around like communion.
Most of all, I remember the unwavering truth that carried me through every hospital, diagnosis, needle, and dark night:
God. Is. Bigger.
He was then. He is now.
💛 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.
You must be logged in to post a comment.