The angels danced. Her mommy cried.

Matt and I dated for only two weeks when we decided we’d be together forever. We chose which breed of dog we wanted, what our dream house would look like, where we’d live forever – and our first child’s name. Ryan.

Six years later, we found Ryan was going to be a girl and her name morphed into Rhyan. All the same, her precious name means, ‘a child of royalty, little princess’.

When Rhyan was five years old, we were driving home from the park in silence when she spoke up from the back seat that she just asked Jesus into her heart and told Him she was sorry for her sins. At barely five years of age, I had my reservations. But she didn’t. And she never has. She’s never wavered about her salvation and I have watched over these past two years as she has developed a relationship with her Father that I want to run to. A faith that doesn’t falter. And the desire for everyone to know Him that is always foremost on her mind.

Last week, a repairman came to fix our cable. Rhyan asked me, “Does that boy know Jesus?” When I told her that I didn’t know, she said quite simply, “Why don’t you ask him?” While my daughter, who was born deaf - who the world said would never speak - now tells everyone she knows and everyone she meets about her King, I remain silent in a world that is desperate for Him.

So, when the ‘boy’ came back in, I asked him. It was the first time in my life I asked a total stranger if he had a relationship with Christ. He hesitated for a moment, and then said that he did. I was able to share about Rhyan and how God has impacted our lives through her. He seemed to take something from it that he needed, and I was grateful for the exchange - changed by the experience.

Tomorrow, Easter Sunday, Rhyan will be baptized. As she has said to me, “I want the whole world to know that I love Jesus. I love Him with all my heart.” And I say to her, He loves you with all His heart, too, Dear One. You are a true child of Royalty…

You are God’s little princess.

We just spent the last 4 days in paradise. Days filled with gorgeous mountain sunsets, horse back riding and watching my children fill their minds with forever memories. Now we are memory building at Grammy and Papa's in the mountains of Clarkesville, Georgia. Family and God's majesty are always the makings of good things. Today we hiked a few thousand miles and found a birds nest, a few slimey crawley things, bear and deer footprints and a whole deer antler.

The only thing we don't have is phone coverage. And a huge prayer request to get out!! Little Seth is set for surgery tomorrow morning at 7:30, and as much as I want to tell the world, this is all I can do. :)

Evynn’s hair has always had a life of its own. From the moment she was born, it’s been a part of her personality. At four years old, it almost touches her waist, and I know one day if I don’t cut it, she will. I have found leaves, food and even a toy mixed into her trusses. But, yet every morning, we sit on the couch as I brush through the tangles. We have gotten to be a pretty good team. As long as she sits still, looks straight ahead and endures the wait, I make it through the seemingly impossible knots one brush stroke at a time.

When speaker, Beth Moore, talked about how God is the only one that can undo the knots in our lives, I could relate immediately. Not only because of my vast knowledge of Evynn knots, but because our lives in this moment are pretty knotty.

It’s easy to talk about the good God brings from difficult situations, because that means that we’ve gotten through the tough times. What isn’t easy is discussing difficult situations while we’re in the middle of them, waiting to be rescued. On Saturday, Matt and I went to the bank to discuss stopping the payments on one of our loans. Month after month we’ve watched our savings being depleted, and felt that it was the best thing to do, even though just the idea of it was physically and emotionally devastating. Then on Sunday morning I woke up to find that someone had stolen my camera out of our car. For those of you that know me, my camera is an extension of who I am. It was a source of income and it was my passion. When we arrived at church that morning, the last thing I felt like doing was worshipping. I wasn’t angry. I understand that I don’t always understand why things happen. But, I was sad.

Our sermon started,

“So be truly glad. There is wonderful joy ahead, even though you have to endure many trials for a little while. These trials will show that your faith is genuine. It is being tested as fire tests and purifies gold-though your faith is far more precious than mere gold. So when your faith remains strong through many trials, it will bring you much praise and glory and honor on the day when Jesus Christ is revealed to the whole world.” 1 Peter 1:6-7

Further into the message in learning to trust God was, The Persistence Test. Will I keep my commitments? If we were to stop paying our bill, we wouldn't be keeping our commitment. We got into the car and Matt immediately asked me what I got from the sermon. I said, 'We need to keep paying that bill.' Even if it's until we have nothing left.

Monday morning, we were off to start a new day. The sting of losing the camera and a big chunk of our savings was still fresh. And then --- the car refused to start. “So be truly glad.” I tried, but I ended up crying instead.

But, in the quietness of last night, I kept hearing His word repeated. His words that keep me going in the knottiest of times. “For I know the plans I have for you”, declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you, not to harm you; plans to provide a hope and a future.” (Jer 29:11) And I know He will never leave me nor forsake me because He’s promised me. (Jos 1:5)

Today, I’m living in the hope that I will be able to write and give God the glory for rescuing us in our distress. If I sit at His feet, focus on the path ahead and endure the wait, I have to know that He’s going to undo this seemingly impossible knot, one brush stroke of faith at a time.

For everyone else with knotty lives, may this hope extend to you.

Courtney

I spoke before of how I continually put God into a box. After Jillian walked for the first time the day after surgery due to the removal of the bones and scar tissue affecting her balance, God busted out of that box and looked me full in the face. That’s the problem with these boxes I build. Not only does it limit what I think He can do, but sometimes it makes Him nearly impossible to see. But even after I saw Him in His majesty that day, I picked up the hammer and nails of fear and doubt and started constructing a new box. Bigger, but confining all the same.

You met Seth not long ago. The story of his little life and the tragedy and triumph of his family have changed every single life it touches. It was because of their heartache and the testimony through their trials that I felt such an urgency to ensure Seth would one day hear.

I didn’t even hear the creaking of the nails as they began to loosen...

Then, I received an email that a check for $20,000 was in the mail to Rhyan’s Hope to cover Seth’s insurance expenses from the same family that donated for Jillian. In just a few short months, Seth will not only have one cochlear implant, he’ll have two. He won’t just be able to see the love in his Mommy’s eyes. He’ll hear it in her voice.

And that box is sawdust at my feet...

The conversation was effortless. I stepped away for a moment and when I turned around, I found myself a spectator to the most beautiful scene playing out before me. I could hear bits and pieces of the separate discussions. The men were talking of serving their country and the age old man-glue of football. The women, whose hearts were knit with divine thread before they ever met, were talking about the purpose of our gathering.

I listened as Andrea told of all the changes Jillian made since her second implant. She was telling Christen of how Jillian was responding when her name was called, the new words she’s now saying and obvious miracle that she is walking.

But, as I watched one of the single most momentous events of my life, I saw that Jillian isn’t just talking and she isn’t just walking. As the adults were engrossed in their conversations, I observed as Jillian weaved in and out from amongst them. I heard her laughter as she responded to her Mommy’s voice. I heard her say ‘mama’ and ‘bye bye’. I saw her circle them as if binding them together with an invisible cord. Then realizing that she was. But, what was imprinted on my heart that night was that she wasn’t only talking, she was singing. And she wasn’t only walking. She was dancing.

Life is so complicated. In our hurts and fears we become deaf to what God is whispering to our hearts. We can’t hear that He loves us always and He will never, ever leave us. That on the other side of our pain, He holds our song. We aren’t alone in our sorrow. And when we’re able to grasp that and listen for His voice, not only will we learn to sing His song, but we’ll find the joy to dance.

The photo above is of Jillian giving her Mommy’s gift to Christen. A frame that holds her picture and a recording of her sweet little voice. It is a constant reminder that miracles still happen, if we’re willing to listen when He speaks and walk where He leads. Thank you, again, Chris, Christen and every precious one of you that donated for Jillian's implant. Because of you, she has her song. And a lifetime of dancing.

With love, Courtney

This is a bit complicated, but that’s what makes it so neat :)

I never much enjoyed running. And I’ve always found it uncomfortable meeting new people. I was completely content to take a class at the Y and then drink my coffee until my Child Development time was done. So, the fact that I ever joined the run club is, in itself, a glimpse of God at work.

I have no idea what made me decide to take such a risk and run that first day. But, I really hit it off with the girls and to this day, every single one of them has enriched my life and has inspired me over and over. I quickly became known as the ‘talker’ of the group and was the one that people ran with if they forgot their music. It wasn’t long before they all knew Rhyan’s story. Within a month or so, we were all out on a beautiful spring day when one of our “Fierce Friends”, Stephanie, mentioned that she had a friend, Chris, who had a friend, Debbie, with a hearing impaired daughter.

After Rhyan’s diagnosis 6 years ago, I became a recluse. Whether it was denial or self-pity, I didn’t want to hear other children talking and meeting milestones that we didn’t think Rhyan would ever meet. It took a long time before I put myself out there to develop friendships. It’s my desire that no other Mommy out there ever feels that way. So, when Stephanie told me about Debbie, I said immediately that I wanted to meet her. Debbie and I met the following Monday with our girls, and Debbie told me that she wanted to help in our mission with Rhyan’s Hope. Like every other Mommy of a HI child, our bond of friendship was instantaneous and I was thrilled to have her support. The support, however, was beyond anything I could have imagined.

It didn’t take long before I realized that I wanted Debbie to be on Rhyan’s Hope Board of Directors. Her energy and motivation was exactly what I needed to keep moving forward. One afternoon this past fall, Debbie called me and said, “Are you sitting down?” A dear friend and client of hers wanted to donate the remaining funds for Jillian’s implant. And you know the rest of the story. :)

There are no coincidences and fate is a farce. God directs our paths and places people in our lives to bring us to the place He wills. This life we live is about relationship. First will always be our relationship with our Father, but second is our relationship with each other. We’re here to love, to lean on each other, to lift each other up. We’re here to inspire and to be inspired. Relationships, whatever they may be, are a risk. But, they are a risk that will always be worth it. No matter what, we can gain wisdom and knowledge from every person that leaves an imprint on our hearts.

Tonight, I’m meeting with Stephanie’s friend, Chris for the first time. What I didn’t know last year when I first heard her name is that Chris is an event planner. And after nearly a year, even though we’ve never met, she has a desire to help us plan our first annual Rhyan’s Hope 5k. How grateful I am that I believe in something bigger than Coincidence.