The other day I was talking to a friend about everything that happened to Jordan and how it has changed my life. This friend is very spiritual and I was telling her how I had not really felt God in my life for a long time. I had some difficult experiences with the church when I was younger and while I felt religious I had walked away from the church. When everything started happening with Jordan I started to pray. In the years leading up to this trauma, I talked to the kids about God and Jesus and I talked to God, I just never felt very connected.
So this friend told me the following story:
She said that she is always asking God to show her signs. She knows that He is there and she is always talking to Him and believing in Him, although she would still ask these things of Him. One day when she was talking to God she said “I would like to see a white balloon in the sky.” I know it sounds a little strange, I think we all have different things we would like to see just to prove that someone is listening to us. A few days later it was a cloudy, dreary day and she was driving home from work. As she got across the bridge she looked up and there was a blue balloon in the sky. It was not exactly what she asked for although if God had given her a white balloon she would never have seen it.
When I got home I was so moved by our conversation and the story she told my family about it. The next day we were driving to soccer and Jordan says “Mom look it’s a blue balloon.” Sure enough right in front of us in the sky was a blue balloon.
I know it sounds silly, I think God was trying to tell me all was going to be okay. I remember the first night Jordan was in the hospital her brain would not stop seizing and I stayed with her the whole time. At about 4:30 in the morning I could not take it anymore and I went to get something to eat. I had the best grilled cheese sandwich in the world. As I was walking back to Jordan’s room I saw the sign for the Chapel so I detoured to the Chapel. I remember sitting down and talking to God. I started to cry and I said “I have made a lot of mistakes in my life; my children are not one of them. Please watch over her and protect her.” I sat there for about 5 minutes crying and when I left I felt more at peace.
I guess what I am saying is believing is half the battle. Through this whole experience I find that I talk to God more and more. I have learned to believe in things that I cannot see or control. I know that there are many people praying for my family and I believe somewhere in the universe someone is listening.