Tears not of grief but of gratitude. Joy.
…
It feels like yesterday, a dear friend spoke these words over me, “What’s next is good.” It was during an exercise in our small group where we volunteered to allow the Lord to speak to us about the person in front of us.

She volunteered to hear from the Lord on my behalf. In hindsight, there was no mistake in her bravely stepping up to the plate. It was not an accident nor a coincident – she was the chosen to deliver a message the Lord not just wanted to convey to me but rather needed me to receive.

These words carried me during a season that unexpectedly became arduous; a time where I needed to be able to hold tightly, knuckles clinched to a profound truth of a promise. I clung to these words the way Ella Jane now clings to me when a loud plane fly’s overhead.

Laura’s prophetic voice transformed my confidence and rooted my faith in the Lord’s truth. Her message became a living example of the words found in Isaiah 46 – verses that I have had as a signature line in my email for over a decade now.

            “ …I made you and I will carry you; I will sustain you and I will rescue you.” (Isaiah 46:4)

Carry me – He did and continues to do so
Sustain me – He always does
Rescue me – He always will
It was her words that welled up inside of me when I had to find the strength to face Townes’s diagnosis – hypoplastic left heart syndrome. It was the echo of the Lord’s promise beating loud as the doctor delivered these words: “I’m so sorry but his heart did not completely form; he is missing the left ventricle. There is no cure only procedures and surgeries to give him a chance to live”

The Lord’s voice rang loudly cutting the silence as I stared blankly when the next doctor delivered the news that coronary fistula may also be present meaning a heart transplant may be necessary.

The only thing rooting me to the truth of the Lord’s promises was a small word of encouragement spoken over me during an elementary exercise of practicing hearing from the Lord.

It were these words that provided me life support as I walked through some of my hardest and most transformative moments: watching as my baby was whisked from the operating room immediately upon birth without even so much as a word. My child, whom I only got to wrap his little finger around mine as I prayed over him before he was taken back for his first heart procedure on his birthday. My son, whom I didn’t get to hold for 6 long days.

But it was enough.
 
“What is next is good.”
…
And good? It is.

This past Sunday during worship service, we were singing “Trust in God” by Elevation Music and when we started singing, “I sought the Lord, and He heard, and He answered” I knew Pandora’s box had been sprung open. I raised my head up to the heavens as damn broke, and tears began to freely flow. I found myself so overcome with gratitude, so humbled by his love and washed in his unconditional gifts.

Does anyone remember those old projectors that you could slide Polaroid pictures in for a slide show? For that worship song it was as if I had been transported to my childhood living room and was watching a Polaroid slideshow but instead of it of my siblings, parents and family trips it was of the last five years.

Townes little hand wrapped around my finger, the nurse handing him to me for the very first time cords and all, the Facetime call of his doctor playing the Ukelele because Townes had a match, watching them wheel him back for his life saving open heart surgery, Scott and I walking out of the hospital for the first time with Townes in tow, our welcome home parade, him crawling over Tucker, his first steps, him opening the box with Leo, him holding Ella Jane, him standing as a Sturgeon star with a huge smile and his arms stretched wide, his first baseball game and so many moments in between.

My heart completely captured in joy and disbelief that the Lord has brought us here: to another milestone.

Kindergarten.

I owe all my college friends so many apologies for not understanding the significance and for my own naivety.  I owe myself grace for the rollercoaster I have been riding this week, and for feeling the overwhelming sense of gratitude that reverberates through me as I watch my son head off full throttle into boyhood.

And that even with my nerves that we may approach this next season with and a confident expectation of good.

My heart almost seized Wednesday when Townes grabbed my hand as we walked into his Kindergarten classroom.  Just moments before, he bravely told me he didn’t need to hold my hand but this was a reminder that yes even in boyhood and perhaps as a teenager and an adult, the strength, love and security of your parents is needed. 

I share our milestone with you so you can be reminded in the promises of the Lord; so, you can go into the weekend knowing that we have a good, good Father. His promises are yes and amen (2 Corinthians 1:20), his mercies new every morning (Lamentations 3:23)!

Maybe you need to be reminded that it’s not how you start but rather how you finish (Ecclesiastes 7:8) or that when we fix our eyes on Christ we can persevere (Hebrews 12:1-2).

And most importantly may you carry this truth that Jesus is hope (Titus 2:!3) and in him we can rest in a confident expectation of good because after all, “what’s next is good.”

As always – Inspire Hope,
Maleah

He posed this question: “If I’ve come to the hospital and experience lifesaving healing, why would I then close the doors of the hospital? Wouldn’t I want to extend that same healing to someone else?”

Ahhhh, I thought, The Great Commission (Matthew 28:16-20)

………

In February, Townes turned five. We went to breakfast that morning with his Grams and Pops asnd as I watched him ride his bike home, I looked at Scott and said (as if this was the first time it had ever occurred to me), “We went from life support to living.” Wow.

And now, today, we celebrate Townes 5^th Heartiversary!

In some ways, it’s hard to fathom that five years ago, we gathered over 100 people together on a zoom call to pray and take communion over Townes tiny 7 lb body before they wheeled him back to prepare him for his lifesaving open heart surgery.  

But in other ways, if I allow myself (which I don’t very often), I can close my eyes and immediately be transported back. All my senses become activated. My eyes see that I am surrounded by white sterile walls, my ears are pierced with the constant beeps from all the machines while my mind tries to calibrate his oxygen levels, my nose picks up the smell of cleaning agents and finally my insides start to ache as I see all the lines and cords flowing from my son’s body. It’s here during this whiplash moment, that I am reminded of how it all began – with a terminal diagnosis.

The graveness of what we faced with each passing day only looming brighter in my mind’s eye. As Townes was fighting to live each day, what floated just beneath the surface was the glaring reality that his body would become too tired; his heart having worked in overdrive would not last. His other organs working overtime to compensate for his broken heart would run out of steam.

I can remember, with serene clarity, the day I knew we had passed the climax of his health and begun our descent.

“Week seven vividly stands out. When I walked into my son’s room, I didn’t see a baby resting while waiting. I saw a baby on life support, a baby fighting with all his might while his body failed him. The coloring of his skin was turning bluer, ashier, and the whites of his eyes were more yellow. My heart knew what I refused to say aloud to anyone: This baby, my baby, my son, was dying.” (excerpt from Ridiculously Hopeful)

But then, from life support to living because just a few short days later our son received the most precious and valuable gift, a new heart.

I still struggle to explain all of what we experienced. The Lord was so intentional with both Scott and I, individually, but also together. Unless you are us, it feels too hard to grasp. To put into words all the ways, both small and large, Jesus met us there is impossible. While I have shared so many stories and spiritual principles he imparted on us, there are still some I have held close. It’s not because I am afraid to share but more perhaps because I am not sure I have yet unfolded what lies within the lesson.

And so, I have asked myself, isn’t that the beauty and mystery of God simultaneously? That years later, he is still ministering to me through other people.  Somehow, the Lord can still draw on my experience five years ago to teach me, to encourage me, to propel me forward on his mission.  

While yes, we have for all intents and purposes literally and figuratively experienced living through an uncertain period where physical life and death were real and tangible – these were outcomes one way or another but also during this time Jesus tended to me, to Scott, to my family, our friends. He drew beautiful pictures and spoke in stories. Jesus illustrated his goodness, his mercy, his unconditional love and he even taught me biblical lesson after biblical lesson.

One of the most profound spiritual lessons he showed me was about the power in words – do they bring life, or do they bring death? It is easy to get caught up in the new vernacular of language and the sayings, the slogans of today and rarely do we give much extra thought so let me toss up an easy example that we can all probably relate too.

            “I would die for that piece of cake and kill for that slice of pie!”

As I even write about cake and pie my mouth is watering just thinking about a warm slice of peach pie with vanilla ice cream (ohhhhh sweet summer, coming soon) but have you ever stopped to ask yourself why we use words like ‘die’ and ‘kill’ when we know those are not life-giving?

Much of the time it’s not until we are faced with a contrast or as I have contemplated so many times over these last months a juxtaposition that we can see the stark and transparent difference.

It’s no surprise that Scott and I encountered doctor after doctor during my pregnancy and even more once Townes arrived. So many times, we would leave our prenatal appointments feeling the weight of what we carried. The dire outlook and constant bombardment of less than positive information was overwhelming, and yet all we could do was wait.

Then our precious son was born. We waited for the doctors to make their assessments, conduct their exams, preform his first procedure to learn that his only hope was to become an organ recipient of a new heart. We waited for almost an entire week to be able to lift his small blue body plugged to life support off his bed so we could hold him. We watched and once again waited as teams examined him, poked and prodded him day after day.

BUT, isn’t it in the discomfort of waiting where we are contorted, molded, sometimes mended, and changed? In the uncertainty of the waiting, we become our most vulnerable allowing the Lord an opportunity to use anything both natural and unnatural to draw our eyes to him?

It was here in what felt like the darkest and sometimes loneliest place where the Lord illustrated to me the metaphysical (philosophical study of reality outside the physical world and through first principals). I started to conceptually understand the heavenly concept of light versus dark and the biblical application of death and life in the power of our tongue (Proverbs 18:21) through a simple measure: names.

The Lord used the contrasting of ideas to nudge me, to hold me accountable to an unwavering faith in his promises: to give us a hope and a future, to provide a confidence in his goodness, and to demonstrate that in everything we were under his wings (Psalm 91).

So, if you will allow me, I have written out the names of many doctors we encountered (and still do) in our journey. **Side note: please know all these people are wonderful and this illustration is in no way about the level of care we received, its simply allowing me to explain how the Lord can use anything and everyone to teach us about his heart.

Two of the names listed below represent our visits before Townes was born while the rest came after his birth.

Graves                         Clay                            Christian                     Virgin             

Killen                          Lamb                           Pope

Can you see it? Dark vs Light. Death vs Life.

John 1:5 says, “And the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.”

And just like that this epiphany transcended me from life support to living, to a place of living with joy even in the hardship. I was convinced beyond a shadow of a doubt that I reigned from a place of victory because of Christ and despite the circumstances facing me. I believe this is available to all of us – I believe Jesus longs to take each of us from life support to living.

“We look away from the natural realm and we focus our attention and expectation onto Jesus who birthed faith within us and who leads us forward into faith’s perfection. His example is this: Because his heart was focused on the joy of knowing you would be his, he endured the agony of the cross and conquered its humiliation and now sits exalted at the right hand of the throne of God!” Hebrews 12:2 TPT

As we celebrate Townes 5^th milestone today, the miracle of organ transplantation, and the legacy of another, I can’t help but to raise a ‘Hallelujah’. I praise him for all he has taught me, for the lessons of the future, for his unconditional and unwavering acceptance and love. As the lyrics of one of Scott’s new favorite songs by Adam Doleac and Thomas Rhett goes

“There’s a bar named Jesus

Where the light stays on

And there’s no such thing as too far gone, too far gone

Where the well ain’t whiskey and it don’t run dry

And there’s always room for one more inside”

And I pray that we are all granted spiritual eyes to see beyond the physical. That we confidently walk our daily lives on the truth Hebrews 11:1, “now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see.”

My hope is that through our journey, Jesus has also been able to minister to you; and through Townes’s testimony we are reminded of the true nature of our Savior.

• The power of prayer moves mountains.
• God makes the impossible possible.
• Hope can be found even in the hardest and darkest of circumstances.
• God is moving on your behalf—even when you can’t see it because things are rarely as they seem.
• That he loves you and there is nothing that can disqualify you
• You are welcome – he always has a place for you

And lastly, that we will all remember our call in Matthew 28:18-19 as followers of Christ. May we ask the Lord to reveal ways in which we can move mountains for the Kingdom, spread the joy of the Lord, encourage those in our community, lead the lost back to our Shepperd, and that we always inspire Hope so that Jesus may use us as a conduit to help others go from life support to living.

Raise a Hallelujah,

Maleah

In September, we were even given the surprising but welcomed news that Townes would not need to undergo another biopsy until 2027! Hallelujah. Our transplant appointments are now spread out to twice a year with blood work in between. The days of multiple appointments in a week and or month seem like a distant memory. What a lovely new normal we’ve unexpectedly stumbled upon.

These last five months my heart has been stirred by the word juxtaposition. So much so, that every time I want to toss juxtaposition out with the bath water a situation arises that makes this word plunge back to the surface. It’s as if the Lord has said to me, “not so fast Jacob. You are going to have to wrestle this one out” (See Genesis 32 for more about Jacob wrestling with God)

My pen is still at the ready to jot down any lesson or message I feel the Lord is impressing upon me, but it all started when Scott and I left for our vacation. A time I had, if I am honest, been coveting for weeks prior; a time to unwind, decompress, and recover from the daily grind.

When we landed and arrived at our hotel however, my heart felt like it was being physically pulled back home. Home where my children were being loved and doted on by the best grandparents on earth. Home where they would be laughing, possibly screaming, chasing Leo, and eventually tucked in tightly snug as a bug in a bed.

I had to even engage myself with a little internal volley convincing my heart that yes indeed, it longed to be at the pool, the beach with my toes in the sand, a good book in my lap and a drink in my hand.  If I was so sure I needed to be here on vacation, then what is this I am currently facing?

In enters what I have now been toiling with ever since: Juxtaposition

“the act or an instance of placing two or more things side by side often to compare or contrast or to create an interesting effect”-the webster dictionary

On our way back to Nashville as I was boarding the plane, I heard this little boy look at his dad right before he stepped onto the plan and say, ‘I want to go home but I want to stay here too.’ And I thought, yes child, you have summed up a constant conundrum perfectly.

I have now become so familiar with this concept that I feel it just sums up motherhood – or to be fair to all, the life of being a parent. It’s like being so sure that 2+2 = 4 and 6+4=10.  Allow me to explain.

As many of you know, Townes started sleeping in a dog bed just after turning two due to a massive sleep regression. The memory of watching Scott on the camera so thoughtfully place Luna’s dog bed in Townes crib is as vivid as the sunset last night; so much so I would swear it happened yesterday.

I remember every bargain I threw out to Townes to remove the dog bed – I offered stuffed animals, a pillow, toys to no avail. I was so distraught over this newfound “security blanket” my son had adopted that my friends sat me down, looked me in the eye and earnestly said, “Maleah, I promise he won’t go to college in a dog bed.” I didn’t believe them.

We took his dog bed everywhere – we even packed it in a suitcase and put it on an airplane. One time my dad said, “did you really need to bring the dog bed?” My response, “do you want to sleep this weekend?” It was that simple – wherever Townes was sleeping so was ‘Nuna’s bed.’

We even took Townes to the pet store on his third birthday when he informed us that he needed a bigger bed. And yes, I admit we were the parents that allowed our son to “try out” different beds in the middle of the pet store, sampling at least five of them; however, Scott was under strict instructions that if anyone asked what in the world we were doing it was simple: well our son wants to make sure the bed will be comfortable for his Luna and Leo. Just this summer, I looked at Scott and said, “do you realize Townes has now been sleeping in a dog bed longer than he hasn’t.” Mic Drop.

I had even become so attached to seeing him curled up in it.  And if you will allow me to be transparent, the few times I laid down with him, I immediately understood the appeal. It was soft, warm, cuddly like your softest stuffed animal, and tucked you in tight and secure – basically Townes discovered in this dog bed he had everything he needed to feel safe.

Then one Saturday this past September, Townes walked into our bedroom while I was making the bed.

Townes: “I want a bed like you mom”

Me: “You have a bed like me.”

Townes: “I do?”

Me: “Yes, you just have a dog bed sitting on top of it.”

Townes: “I don’t need a dog bed anymore.”

Me: “You just said, you don’t need the dog bed anymore to sleep?”

Townes: “Yes, I don’t need it.”

I have always prided myself on my anticipation skills and I am generally always prepared for outcomes. My dad was an Eagle Scout, so the Boy Scout’s motto rings loudly, often… “Always Be Prepared.” Well, I failed.  To say I was unprepared for this sudden change would be an understatement.

In a matter of seconds, my outward expression towards Townes showed no emotion and remained neutral but internally my heart shattered. Juxtaposition.

It turns out my friends were right, he wouldn’t go to college in a dog bed, but now nor will I see him snuggled up so tightly and securely in one either. Two contrasting ideas smashing and clanging like symbols into each other instantly. Yes, of course, I wanted this for him but on my terms or rather timetable right?

I think on the pivotal Saturday, as I watched him turn and walk out of the room as if nothing happened, I was watching the door to toddlerhood close. He was confidently walking into boyhood.

Meanwhile, I was standing in a cloud of dust frantically trying to pick up the pieces of my heart – I might as well have been Humpty Dumpty – still not sure if these pieces of my heart fit back together again.  So here we are again, not the first time I have experienced these strong emotions of sadness and gladness, grief and joy, and I know it won’t be the last. Juxtaposition.

…

A couple years ago while out on a walk, I started doing some math. My conclusion while spending more time than necessary in my own thoughts, is that when your child enters Kindergarten it’s as if your job is almost 1/3 done. After all, 5 * 3 = 15 and then in another 3 years, they fly the nest (or at least that’s my goal).  At the time, Kindergarten felt like a lifetime away.

In February, Townes turns FIVE. In March, we will celebrate FIVE years of his miracle. In August, my tender but tough little boy will go to kindergarten. The thought of all of this overwhelms me – I am unwell.  And so, God and I continue to wrestle like Jacob.

To preserve time but champion him forward? Juxtaposition.

So today, I started toiling with the number five. Five months I have been letting the word juxtaposition jockey around in my head like a pin ball and in February Townes will be five.

The biblical meaning of the number five is grace – God’s goodness and favor towards humans. Throughout scripture both the Old Testament (300 times) and the new (45 times), five is a theme to illustrate to us its power.  Jesus was even born in 5 B.C.  The Ten Commandments is divided into two sets of 5 commandants and the book of Psalms is divided into five major sections.* The list goes on but the picture clear, these aren’t coincidences as I know the Lord is so intentional in every action. I believe he wants the reader to understand the that the depths of his love and mercy know no bounds and so his gift for us – undeserved favor, grace.

A gift I could never earn, never perform enough for, a gift so unmerited in its very nature that I need to learn how to receive it (Ephesians 2:7-9). So perhaps this is now where the lesson will truly begin, a renewed understanding of the Lord’s grace. A deep dive into the many examples in scripture who experienced his grace: Peter, Thomas, Martha, Paul, to name a few.

A journey in learning how to pair his grace with the ongoing juxtaposition as a mother I will find myself facing head on. A recentering of myself in Proverbs 3:5-6 to gain more wisdom in how to likely offer myself grace above all else.

On Sunday, I was afforded the opportunity to go for a run – the weather was beautiful, and the atmosphere set for a glorious time with the Lord in reflection on the year. The run started with me in prayer and thanking him for the year, for my family, and then out of nowhere the grief came. It’s true what they say, “Grief is like the ocean. It comes on waves ebbing and flowing. Sometimes the water is calm, and sometimes it is overwhelming. All we can do is learn to swim.”

Grief for a family I will likely never know and a child who is most important to my family. And so, I wept. I wept for their loss; I wept for their last Christmas with their child five years ago. I wept for the change in trajectory they didn’t know was coming almost five years ago. I grieve for them.

Here I find myself again, two families, contrasting stories, but one heart. Juxtaposition.

If you find yourself here, in the challenge of a juxtaposition as we wrap up 2024 and dive headfirst into 2025, know you are not alone. My prayer is that your heart will know 2 Corinthians 12:9-10 as concrete truth in the coming year no matter what obstacles you may face.

“But he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’ Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.”

Keep Inspiring Hope –

Maleah

*See biblestudy.org

Townes has grown increasingly more curious about when he was born, mainly due to the fun parties all the kids have at school on their birthdays (which we had a blast at his in February). He asked me once if it was still snowing when he came home from the hospital to which I shared it was Easter, springtime, and beautiful outside.

A few days later he asked how old he was when he came home – my response, simple – two months. He even made an offhanded comment to his Uncle Matt that he grew up at Vanderbilt when he was a baby. And since Ella Jane joined us last year, he often asks to see pictures of himself as a baby and so we carefully share them.

Scott and I decided this is the year.

The year we would have our first intentional conversation with Townes about his birth. One -he is old enough; two – we want to be the first to speak with him about his heart; and three, he was scheduled for another heart biopsy a couple weeks ago (everything looks great, hallelujah!).

Leading up to this conversation, I was so apprehensive, I just couldn’t wrap my mind around how to talk with him. How do you explain such a thing? The conversation felt too big for me to hold.

In preparation, we decided the wisdom was to meet with someone who adores our son and has years and years of experience with children and likely “hard conversations” and coaching parents on how to navigate them.  You will remember this lovely woman because the thought even occurred to me, “maybe she can make me a ‘Sturgeon Star’ too.”

Mrs. Sturgeon provided so much insight, so much encouragement and the best advice: Focus on the JOY.

Of course, doesn’t Scripture encourage us repeatedly and point us joy? (Hello world – the obvious right in front of me all along – no wonder I always had a hard time finding the Golden Egg).   So that even in trails and tribulations (which Vanderbilt was) as a follower of Christ, I have access to joy! (James 1:2)

And I stand here to tell you she was right, and Scott was the ‘Sturgeon Star’ (not me, I was a wilting tulip as Townes sat in my lap, ha, a story for another day). Scott showed Townes pictures from the hospital – fun ones – ones with nurses and Chick-fil-a, ones with his family and our friends, ones of us working and reading, the ones of us holding him.  Scott explained that he had to stay in the hospital a little longer than most other babies because we were waiting on the doctors to make his heart better. And then we shared the homecoming party parade (thanks Aunt Kiki and Uncle Wil) and his heart seemed full, overjoyed.

He hasn’t had any more queries yet, although, I am sure, in time, the questions will come.

While Scott was sharing all this with Townes, I was reminded that there was so much joy in the grief, so much praising in the disappointment, and so much gratefulness in the heartbreak. Perhaps one of the greatest gifts Scott and I experienced to the fullest when we walked out those exit doors of Vanderbilt on our way home as a family for the first time the Thursday before Easter was 1 Peter 1:8-9.

“Though you have not seen him, you love him; and even though you do not see him now, you believe in him and are filled with an in expressible and glorious joy, for you are receiving the end result of your faith, the salvation of your souls.”

Anniversaries have a way of drawing us back in time – to celebration or sorrow. To joy or sadness. To shock or awe. To desperation or jubilation. And sometimes these emotions are tangled together forced to coexist.  

This week has held the weight of events to deeply mourn and a day to celebrate.  We received the news of Townes donor match on March 27^th with his transplant surgery occurring in the wee morning hours of March 28^th.  I remain thankful for the Lord’s mercy that I have the space for my heart to lament for the loss of a child one day and celebrate that’s child’s priceless gift and legacy on another.  This year, however, March 27^th also marked the first anniversary of an unspeakable tragedy where the unfathomable loss of innocent lives occurred in our community. 

This week, this Holy Week, the sadness loomed.

Easter is an annual reminder of the Father’s great love that he would sacrifice his son for our sins (John 3:16) and then raised him from the dead (Matthew 29:5-6).

Jesus conquered death.

He bore not only our sins but our iniquities, and all diseases that day 2000 years ago when he innocently hung on a cross. Each of us so valuable in his eyes that he willingly knew how he was to die and chose to anyway – redemption.

And isn’t it amazing to be sitting on this side of the cross with the ability to confidently wait in anticipation of Sunday when we know the tomb was empty? Have you ever wondered how you would have responded if you were Mary Magdalene who discovered Jesus, your beloved friend, missing? (John 20:1-8)

For the past several years, I have spent considerable time contemplating the different perspectives of the disciples and others present on Good Friday all those years ago when Jesus took his last breath succumbing to death.

The one whom Jesus loved, presumably John, and as some believe the only disciple present, watched his mentor, teacher, and friend die not only an unfavorable death but an unjustly one. While John stood witness of Jesus torture have you ever wondered what emotions overtook him as Jesus charged him with the responsibility of looking after, Mary, his mother…was it honor? Fear? An unquestionable, yes? (Reference John 19)

How do you imagine Peter carried out his day knowing that his friend, the one Peter called the Messiah just days prior, who he betrayed not once but three times, was being beaten?  Then Jesus forced to drag the weight of his own death, the cross, towards Golgotha (John 19:17-41).

Was there remorse? Regret? Shame? Was he aware of the unquestionable grace already extended to him? Did he understand that as Jesus bore the weight of the cross on his back, it symbolized the weight of Peter’s betrayal?

Mary, Jesus’ mother, stood witness as her son, the son of God, was slain. I have often pondered from a mother’s perspective what she must have experienced – the excruciating pain. Did her own heart also rupture that day?

Have you ever contemplated why it was the “many women” in Jesus’ life that stood near as he bore the cross according to the gospel accounts of Matthew (27:55), Mark (15:40-41), Luke (23:27), John (19:25). Between the gospels, we can reasonably assume at least 6-8 women were present or watching from a distance as Jesus underwent the crucifixion while his disciples fled in fear of arrest (Mark 14:50)

And this year, I have thought a lot about the Roman soldiers who were present fulfilling their “duty”.  Scripture even tells us that these soldiers were participating in the mockery of Christ but as his death unfolded and the earth shook, they become terrified.  The terror shaking them to a realization they were wrong.

One centurion is quoted in Matthew 27 exclaiming that “Surely he was the son of God.” Did these men feel regret? Did they then live under the weight of a bad decisions? How heavy was the guilt – unbearable?

There are so many people a part of the crucifixion with different stories and responses – to me the accounts of the days leading up to his death on the cross and they crucifixion itself illustrates a picture of human condition.

I see myself in John, Peter, Thomas, Mary, and even the Roman soldiers. Our weaknesses pointing clearly to why I need a Savior.  Why I need Jesus. Do you relate too?

But isn’t the beauty found at the cross where Jesus gave his life for this very thing…the human condition to illustrate our worth, our value, and his great love? Jesus willingly gave up his life to break our chains and lead us into freedom. He so desperately desires a relationship with us that he went into darkness to give us a secure future in eternal life.

And the triumph and hope found because the tomb was empty. Jesus having given us the victory, atoning for our sins and giving us right standing with the Father.

So, as we celebrate this Easter, I am reflecting on Jesus’s pursuit of those who needed him after his death.

• To Mary Magdalene he appeared and brought victory over despair. (Mark 16:9)
• To his disciples he brought peace to their fear. (Luke 24:36-43)
• To Thomas who could never totally believe, he offered gentleness and grace to help him believe. (John 20:26-31)
• On the road to Emmaus Jesus gives order and understanding to Cleopas and another discipline in their confusion (Luke 24:13-27)
• To Peter, he replaced his failure with confidence and charged him to lead (John 21)

So I stand in confidence knowing Jesus will continue to pursue me offering me wisdom, revelation and healing along the way. And I know he will do it for you too because He has Risen.

He has Risen Indeed!

Maleah

Who am I kidding – since College Football moved to the Playoff Era I have spent most New Year’s Eves for a decade watching football all day and night…and yes, more times than not cheering on the Tide (which is where you will find me tomorrow).

But as I sat twirling the EnRoute wine in my glass, I thought ‘uh, I wonder what 2024 has in store. I mean, pun intended, here but where am I EnRoute too this next year?’

Then as I sometimes do, my memory tried to recall past New Years. I looked at Scott candidly and said, “this will be our fourteenth New Year’s Eve but only one really stands out to me.”

Scott: “Which one?”

Me: “2019 – at our friends New Year’s Eve Party”

Scott: “Why?”

Me: “Because of the uncertainty that I knew was ahead.”

(side note: can’t the unknown be terrifying if we sit in it?…better to just get on up and move on, no?)

I remember being full of trepidation, this feeling of wanting to stay tethered to 2019 because at least this ‘terrible new normal’ was now known. February, so close to the New Year, always coming as the second month of the year was known but the outlook for Townes, our firstborn son, was not. The certainty of his outlook was more dark than light – his health veering him closer to terminal than not. And at this point, I didn’t even know “transplant” could be on the horizon.  

“But more than that, I remember that you responded with a certainty, a confidence in what we were hoping for (Hebrews 11: 1—3) – you said simply, ‘this year will be amazing – you will see. Trust me.’”

And you know what?

It was.

Was it Easy? No

Was it tearless? No.

Was it full of the unexpected? Absolutely – hello worldwide pandemic.

Did I experience fear and doubt? Unfortunately.

Were there moments I was scared? Yes.

Did I experience grief, sadness and everything in between. Yes.

BUT

Was there joy? Yes.

Unexplainable peace? Yes.

Did we experience love like we had never known? Yes!

Did we learn how to advocate on behalf of our son and ourselves with the Lord as our guide? Yes!

Did we learn the benefits of receiving? Yes!

Did we watch prayers, both big and small, be answered? Yes!

Did we witness a community of believers step forward to fill the gaps for us? Yes!

Did the Lord present us (Scott, always being more aware) with opportunities to love others? Yes!

…

Ultimately, would I change it given the chance to go back to New Year’s Eve of 2019? NO.

But doesn’t hindsight do that?

So, if you find yourself in a place of uncertainty today, it’s okay. Me too.

Isn’t that what makes the New Year something to be both excited and nervous about?

But here is what I have come to know to be true: God is who he says he is.

The GREAT I AM (Exodus 3:14) –

He is never changing (Malachi 3:6) –

He doesn’t shift with the shadows or dimming light (James 1:17-18) –

He is bigger than your circumstances (Isaiah is full of great reminders of this – 55 & 41)

He catches all your tears and holds you heart in his hand (Psalm 56:8 – too good not to share “You keep track of all my sorrows. You have collected all my tears in your bottle. You have recorded each in your book”)

But things I often need to remember and focus on in times of uncertainty, stress, and unknowns are that God is a rescuer, redeemer, giver of all good gifts, provider, healer, a friend, consistent, and ultimately, he is known.

Scripture illustrates the heart of our Father over and over again.

Sometimes, I ask myself ‘how did I let myself get so distracted?’

Well honestly, it’s easy…too much at my fingertips between google, social media, email, my to-dos, and the list goes on as my “mom brain” runs through a thousand different things in any given moment but if I can find time to slow down…the answers to anything I need I can find.

Or at the very least…seek and ask, and if things get dicey, KNOCK (on repeat)! Matthew 7:7-12

This year, I want to root myself to John 20:29 when Jesus was talking to Thomas, “Then Jesus told him, ‘You believe because you have seen me. Blessed are those who believe without seeing me.’”

I pray to experience Jesus more this coming year. To have more revelation on his heart for his followers, to see more people whom he loves come to know him, to see broken hearts mended, to see desperate situations absolved, to see financial burdens lifted, to see afflictions healed, to witness ongoing miracles, and to hear more and more people proclaim his goodness…but in the waiting may the Holy Spirit encourage me and remind me that Jesus, himself, said ‘blessed are those who believe without seeing’

The Holy Spirit. What a gift Jesus gave us when he ascended to heaven after his resurrection (Acts 2) – so tonight, I pray for you. I pray you will have the courage to be bold in your requests of the Lord in 2024 and in this boldness that you also hold a confidence that his word is true.  I pray that the Lord reveals more of himself to you and that you experience so much of his goodness you proclaim 2024 was a year that the impending uncertainty was worth it and that ultimately you wouldn’t change it either.

Inspire Hope –

Maleah

P.S. Townes has entered a very sweet phase in the last few weeks. The 3nager seems to have minimized and his sweetness has come back to the surface. Just tonight he took my hand and lifted it to his face and said “I love you mommy.”

While Ella Jane wasn’t feeling well, he showed such compassion and empathy. And who knew, he is trying to dress himself and fix his own breakfast (thanks to the new stool he got for Christmas). He loves learning and school and I am constantly amazed at what he teaches me.

He ‘out logic’d me 2x in one day’ recently which does not bode well for me in the years to come. It even made me re-think how I respond and ultimately negotiation (prayers please)!

This Christmas was everything I could have ever dreamed as he asked to watch The Grinch so many times and make sugar cookies. Sweet memories I am forever thankful.

And here I find myself yet again, contemplating time.

Time is slow.

Time is fast.

Time sifts me sometimes like a bag of flour.

Time mends and time bends.

And ultimately, if I am not careful, I could miss it.

Time is a thief.

I’ve been wondering lately how I got here. And I don’t mean where I live by location or what I am doing, I mean here — my age.

Where exactly did forty years go?

Maybe these are common thoughts for someone like myself, someone whom we used to refer to as middle aged (ewwwww, by the way, who coined that phrase?). Maybe you still do, I don’t – you can guess why. 

It seems like yesterday I was winning a state championship or learning how to drive. Now I have been driving for over half my life and in a couple years of “legal” age for over half my life too.  My closest friends from college and I planned a 40^th birthday trip this year and it was here we also realized that our friendship spans over two decades and you guessed it, more than half our lives – but didn’t I just meet them?

So where did the years go?

In February, my precious little boy, will turn FOUR.

It hit me this Thanksgiving, it’s been almost four years since I watched Townes live on life support with his broken heart, waiting. Waiting and receiving miracle after miracle.  Almost four years since our generous donor family, made the most unthinkable and selfless decision while their own hearts shattered into a million pieces. Almost four years of grieving. I cannot fathom it. And when I slow down long enough the reality hits me like a ton of bricks and my heart laments.

I have had the gift of watching a baby grow into a toddler (and why yes, if you were wondering I have not escaped it, sometimes a “threenager”). His laughter and silly comments tickle me. Sometimes, I close my eyes just so I can just hear his voice even when he isn’t around.

I have watched the tender spirit I witnessed in Townes as a baby grow into thoughtfulness, empathy, and a service attitude. I continue to watch in awe at his strength. Recently, he came home from church excited to show me his drawing and tell me all about David. (Reference: 1 Samuel 17)

So, I asked him, “who did David beat?”

Townes: “a giant”

Me: “Yes, a giant. And how?”

Townes: “a small stone”

Me: “And Townes, do you know who you are?”

Townes: “Me? No, who am I?”

Me: “Townes, you are a David. You have and will always beat a Giant.”

And so now, I am thankful for this simple Sunday school lesson that has given me something to root his identity too – my tender warrior (and if we are lucky, maybe he will skip over the bumps, bruises, and bad decisions King David also accumulated).

During our hospital stint, we learned about a nonprofit called Enduring Hearts.  While in the hospital we received a gas gift card and grocery card to help. Since Townes received his heart transplant, we have come to know this amazing organization even more (Scott even now serves on the board).

What some do not know, is that a heart transplant isn’t a cure. The average life expectancy of a heart transplant is only seventeen years. Many recipients at some point in their journeys may experience rejection of their donor heart. Enduring Hearts funds research to increase longevity and improve the quality of life for children with a transplanted heart. So this #GivingTuesday, I would love for you to consider partnering with us to support the mission of Enduring Hearts.

As my heart aches for the loss of our donor family, I desire for their precious gift to provide Townes with a lifetime of ordinary and extraordinary.

Enduring Hearts helps:

• Babies born with congenital heart defects that cannot be surgically repaired and require a heart transplant.

• Children who experience end-stage heart failure through heart disease, infection, and Cardiomyopathy.
• Not only patients, but their entire families that all live with the stress of knowing that the transplanted heart may eventually fail.
• Many kids who receive other transplanted organs will also experience organ failure due to rejection.
• Adult heart transplant recipients.

My prayer for heart recipients like Townes is they may all learn they are a “David”. A small but mighty chosen warrior who overcomes Goliath.

To Donate, click here! To learn more about our story follow me on Instagram @maleah4ua or if you are feeling like really diving in you can purchase Ridiculously Hopeful

Inspire Hope,

Maleah

I know it happens, Townes’s miracles upon miracles are proof but lately I have been yearning to have a ‘heaven on earth’ moment, again.

Jesus uses the term “much more” six times throughout the gospels to express our value to the Father and his provision.  I can only assume this to mean, Jesus wants me to pay attention, to understand the importance and significance of ‘the much more.’  One of my favorite ‘much more’ passages occurs in Matthew 6, when Jesus reminds us that our Father in heaven looks after the birds in sky and surely we are much more valuable than they. Revelation from this passage alone years ago began to chip away at my wrong belief of a ‘just enough’ God to a God who continually gives.

We have been in a season of surviving between adding a baby, moving, and losing consistent childcare – we made it through the September shuffle and so far, it looked as if we will eke out of the October scramble mostly unscathed or so I thought. 

Last week, I had a moment where this perfectionist had to face the hard truth that perhaps she is doing enough to get by but maybe not at the standard to which she expects of herself.  

Scott has been taking Townes to school and on this particular morning, he called me to tell me he forgot to grab Townes medicine. I told him no big deal, just to let the teachers know I would be running it by on my way to the office. Grace. Side note: do you find it easier to extend grace to others than to yourself sometimes? I do.

But then my phone rang again. While internally I felt more than frustrated as I can’t seem to get through my morning to get Ella Jane ready for the day much less myself – I answered anyway.

            Scott: “did you know this week is spirit week at school? Homecoming.”

….as if someone in a far-off land used a mallet to clang on a cymbal, a distant memory clanged through my mind as I tried to find the email in my internal filing system – oh the emails upon emails.

            Me: “it rings a bell” (pun intended)

            Scott: “today is pajama day, all the kids are in pajamas”

All the kids are in pajamas…all the kids are in pajamas…all the kids but mine. Whelp. Complete deflation as the realization sinks in – I sent Townes to school in his uniform.

Like a rush of water, I became consumed with my own insecurities and fears that I have so carefully and meticulously hidden away. My insecurity that Townes will be seen as different by his peers and adults alike because of his daily medication, different because of his chronic ear infections, different because of his doctor’s appointments, different because of his eczema flares. One by one these threatened to bubble over the surface of my ‘I’ve got this all-together persona’ because I forgot spirit week! Now I’ve made him different…

**And I recognize these insecurities belong to me and yes, Jesus and I will revisit them (ha) as I never want to project them onto my son.    

In retrospect, what makes all this even more interesting is I didn’t even realize it was affecting me. When Scott got home to pick up Ella Jane my mood was a little snappier, my temperament rougher around the edges. When Scott attempted to tell me that sending Townes to school is in his uniform was not a big deal and it was okay, I proceeded to let him know “nothing is wrong, I just need to get to my office.”

I wonder now, how often do I do that…minimize the impact of an action, conversation, decision, or an event? How often to try to placate my own feelings simply because I can’t understand their significance or pinpoint the route, the deeper fear or insecurity? I sure hope I am not alone.

But…the good news? Even the Holy Spirit can speak to us when our are blinders on.

I headed up to the school with Townes medicine in tow and now his favorite “dino” jammies his Grams got for him. I was waiting for him in the nurse’s office where I was hoping to discretely administer his medicine and offer his pajamas so no ‘extra’ attention would be given.

But when his teacher, Mrs. Sturgeon (who by the way is living out her God given giftings as a pre-k teacher), appeared, I was surprised and only later realized maybe a little disappointed too. She said, “Come with me as we are about to file out of the gym.”

As I started following her, I found myself praying (pleading really): ‘oh please oh please Lord, don’t let Townes be the only child in his uniform. Please, please, please let there be another parent like me.”

One by one the pajama kids in his class filed out and it’s then I see Townes. He yells “MOM” and starts running towards me. While is excitement over my presence is abounding (much like I imagine the Lord’s excitement when we make time for him), I found myself too distracted with the internal devastation of feeling like I somehow let Townes down, failed him in some way because he is the only child I see in his uniform rather than pajamas.

After I gave Townes his medicine, I offered him his pajamas. And what happened next, I could have never foreseen.

I stood witness as Townes looked up at me and in his pure innocence says, “No mom, Mrs. Sturgeon made me the ‘Sturgeon Star’ today and with his head held high he jumped so his feet landed a little further than hip distance and his arms stretched straight out. As I stood there in disbelief, looking at my son, a star (literally standing with 5 points), I heard Mrs. Sturgeon say, ‘yes, Townes is our Sturgeon Star today and all the kids have cheered for him.’

This wonderful teacher did what came natural to her operating within her God given giftings. She created a situation of love, grace, and acceptance for my son. Where Townes could have been seen as different and experienced shame not of his own doing, she saw the opportunity to remind him of his uniqueness, of his identity as a child of God and one made in God’s image (Genesis 1:26-28). Mrs. Sturgeon saw him and she demonstrated love.

I feel as though standing there I felt Jesus himself take a little stitch and close a small wound in my heart. I experienced a little bit of heaven on earth. I saw the Lord’s mercy and his never-ending grace. He lavished me with his love through Townes’s teacher and reminded me that he loves my son even more than I do. I heard him whisper, Townes is fearfully and wonderfully made (Psalm 139:14) and because of my love your son is a child of God (1 John 3).

Mrs. Sturgeon (and for that matter teachers everywhere) may never understand their impact – she may never understand the depths to which her small action and one she likely discounts has moved me and the ways in which the Lord spoke through her – an eternal difference, the much much more.

It’s here in these truths, I will find my rest. My prayer for myself in these moments where my insecurities start to creep in as I know they undoubtedly will while navigating this journey of parenting is that I can remember Townes precious pre-k 3 teacher and the heaven on earth picture she gifted me.  Engrained forever on my heart is the scene of Townes standing as a star.

There are so many lessons for me wrapped up in this story. For the last week I can’t stop mediating on it.  I am continually asking the Lord to keep showing me what he wants me to know, and I am sure more revelation will come in time. In the meantime, I am oh so grateful for a ‘much more’ God.

A God who sees not only me, but who sees and values, my son, Townes. He went out of his way to speak to me, to show me his love and offer his grace abounding. And so now, my prayer for you is that you would be gifted a ‘heaven on earth’ experience too, one where you unequivocally feel God’s love for you, and you can bask in his glorious presence.

With Love,

Maleah

The first two weeks were filled with more stillness and quiet than I am used too and frankly while walking our dogs the other morning I felt a passing sadness. I realized in that moment, I was being filled with a gratefulness for that precious time but also a grief that it was so short because as we all know too well, life has a way of sweeping us up like a huge gust of wind.

While these weeks have been filled with a bushel of sweetness, we have had a bit of salty too. Between finishing the building process on our house, a hectic — less than ideal move (yes, we moved with a toddler and 6-week-old…oh, thank goodness for grandparents we literally could not survive without), and an unexpected change in childcare, life seems lately to be filled with more chaos than calm.

BUT…

I have continued to feel the promise of redemption and determined even in the “crazy” not to miss it, after all the Lord gifted me that promise. What I have come to realize is he didn’t want to just redeem the experience of welcoming a child to the world, he intends to redeem the entire newborn phase.

Going into Ella Jane’s birth, Scott and I joked we were first time parents for the first ten weeks with absolutely no idea what we were doing—frankly, I was more than a bit concerned with constant internal questions looming over me. Now on the other side? Well, the Lord, so far, has made it easy.

The Lord has gifted me some of the most precious moments watching Townes love her and love her he does immensely. He gives her sweet kisses – he gets on the floor with her during tummy time and if she starts to make a bit of noise (which she rarely does), I overhear him sing “Jesus loves me.” Just the other day I watched as he laid next to her his face mere inches and softly sang to her. These are instants I could never have even dreamed.

As for me, he has gifted me with an easy going, content baby who will sleep wherever you place her. She spent her first few weeks napping amongst Townes noise as he came home from school with our living room serving as her nursery. She waits patiently for her bottles and diaper changes. Just this last week we have begun to experience her smiles and soft coos. These are small but big moments for me; I didn’t experience these with Townes until much later and maybe in some ways missed the joy of them.

Scott and I recently celebrated the seven-week milestone. For us this was a pivotal moment in Townes’s life. Leading up to him reaching seven weeks, it became clear to me his health had reached its climax and from here on we would be sliding down rocky terrain with no way of knowing how long it would last or rather how long Townes would.

Excerpt from Ridiculously Hopeful

“When I walked into our room the Monday after being in the hospital for six weeks, what I saw when I looked at my son was all too recognizable. My stomach lurched; I had witnessed this before. Sickness. The body fought, but the disease spoke louder; Townes eyes told me the whole story as his condition shouted at me pronouncing its presence raging within my son’s body.

I knew we had reached the height of my son’s health. Up until this point, we had achieved our goal of keeping him the healthiest we could. We remained thankful the nurses referred to him as one of the healthiest kids on the floor, but past experience roared loudly like an animal unwilling to be tamed. My soul, knowing it was downhill from here, contemplated how fast the fall would be. (It’s not like we were given a manual for how these things normally go.)”

Until, in a moment, our lives were changed forever. Day fifty, seven weeks and one day, in the hospital is the day we received the call that flipped our worlds right-side up. A Match.

Scott and I reminisced about how that period of time with Townes felt never ending, repetitive in the worst ways, as if we woke up in the trenches every morning willing ourselves to keep going and fight the war before us. Contrary, “Round Two” has been light and easy in comparison, even with the nights of little sleep and other post-partum adjustments.

“Round Two” has led me to read more about the Double Portion so often mentioned in sermons and found throughout scripture. And while the double portion can frequently be used in reference to the firstborn son, I ran across an interesting synopsis referencing the story about Hannah, who was barren.

“But to Hannah he gave a double portion, because he loved her, though the LORD had closed her womb.” 1 Samuel 1:5

The author suggesting that the Double Portion also symbolizing love. In the verse above, he, refers to Hannah’s husband who gave her a double portion. He showed her his preference — his great love for her — even though she was barren.

In biblical times, women who faced barrenness were in an agonizing position as their culture prioritized children and considered them divine blessings. A woman’s worth was often associated with the ability to bear children and children were seen to ensure their husbands success and lineage. As a result, these women shouldered shame, disgrace, and what I imagine was a deep, deep sadness.

Can you then imagine the power of the love demonstrated by Hannah’s husband to give her a double portion? Her husband illustrating the love of God towards her when at that time society likely scoffed and judged him because of what they viewed an “imperfection” in his wife.

What I love about the Bible are the truths we can still apply; the questions I can ask myself about my own circumstance and find Christ within. 

Throughout the scriptures Jesus is presented to us through different stories and people. For example, Jesus is portrayed through Boaz as he chooses Ruth, the widow, and a woman of a different social class than him (Ruth 1-4), or through the story of Joseph as seven years later he reunites with his brothers, the same ones that because of jealously sold him to slavery (Genesis 38). Even Elijah foreshadows Jesus’s ministry through multiplying the widow’s rations (1 Kings17:9-16).

Among these stories, I believe at the very foundation what we discover is love. I continue to be mystified by the Lord’s great love for us, his children.  A love we can easily overlook as it can pass us by if we aren’t looking.  Perhaps I am in a season of experiencing his double portion, and I pray the same for you.

In other good news, after months of lingering questions, continuous setbacks with Amazon, Ridiculously Hopeful, is finally available for purchase with Amazon as the retailer and not just the distributor – HALLELULAH – a blessing and an answered prayer!

I would be forever grateful if you would leave a review –

Lastly, I had the privilege of appearing on my dear friend, Jill McCormick’s podcast, “Grace in Real Life” where we had so much fun talking about building trust in the Lord – if you want to give it a listen, click here.

And even more exciting, I have teamed up with several other authors for a giveaway!

Who doesn’t love an opportunity to win not to mention you may gain some valuable insight and wisdom to jumpstart the 4^th quarter….and if that isn’t enough, signing up is FREE – enter by September 22^nd  at 11:30 for a chance to win.

Our team is giving away:

• How to Listen so Your Kids Will Talk by Becky Harling
• Ridiculous Hope by Maleah Stephens
• Unshakable Kids by Lauren Gaines
• and a $100 Amazon gift card

Click Here to Register: Skill Set Giveway

Again, thank you for following along our story, cheering for us and more than anything praying for us. While I often joke, I feel like I am surviving, I know Townes is thriving and that is in large part because of you.

Together, even in the chaos or “the pinch of salt” moments, let’s not miss the double portion, ultimately the Lord’s great love for us.

Inspire Hope,

Maleah

Townes is proud and smitten with his “baby sister”. He has wanted to hold her often and help me feed her a bottle. He frequently places his hand around her tiny little feet and plants loving big brother kisses on her cheeks. At the hospital she opened her eyes the most when Townes would speak to her as I imagine his voice sounded so familiar as he often ran to me offering his priceless hugs and would say, “hey baby sister” when I was pregnant.

Today, he asked me for a snack and I responded with “okay bud, I will get it for you.” 

He promptly replied, “you mean Big Brother.” Yes, Townes of course, you will now always be a Big Brother. Thank you for embracing this new aspect of your identity with ease, a joyful heart and a curious spirit.

And a big thank you to you, praying for us as we made this transition to become a family of six (and the dogs have adjusted well too).  Redemption is real, in its very nature healing, and something we should all seek and continually ask for (Matthew 7:7).

I was given a foundation for this new life; the Lord gifted me confidence in the outcome.  His words to me allowed me to walk in peace towards our twenty-week scan and the few appointments that followed. Anytime, I felt my mind wander back to those words spoken about being a higher risk for reoccurrence, like a tether his words drew me back. Sometimes it felt as if I was in a game of tug, only in this game the Lord maintained control (oh and great news – she passed all her echocardiograms with perfect scores – a full, beautiful heart). My only responsibility in the process has been to lean in, believe the truth in what the Lord shared, with gratitude look forward in anticipation and rest only in his faithfulness.
 
We go into tomorrow resting in Hebrews 10:23, “Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for he who promised is faithful.” With a grateful heart and a confidence that the Lord is who he says he is we ask that you join us in prayer as we welcome Townes’s sister, Ella Jane, to the world. The sister Townes called into being months before and a sister he has been ecstatic about for over a year.
 
And for you, I know the Lord will pursue you in the same capacity he did me and I pray for your eyes and hearts to be opened to experience him. I pray his tenderness and compassion heals, restores and redeems maybe even the very parts of your soul you don’t know need it.
 
Redemption is near and available to us all!

Inspire Hope –
Maleah, Scott & Townes