My Full Circle Moment
Last week, on April 16th, 2025, my oldest started driving with his learner’s permit. Although he’s already a pretty good driver, sitting in the passenger seat watching him drive my suburban made me feel pretty helpless. (You can read about it HERE.) And it was at that moment that I reflected back to another April 16th 15 years ago…
On April 13th, 2010, our oldest son, Jackson (Bird), was born. Except for a bit of jaundice, he was healthy, we were happy, and we headed home from the hospital on the evening of the 16th.
That evening while sitting on the couch holding my new baby, I noticed that every few minutes, he would have a series of jerks or tremors on one side of his body. The more I watched, the more it happened. As new parents, we definitely weren’t baby experts, but we kinda felt like this wasn’t normal, so Jacin and I loaded Jackson in the car and returned to the hospital.
They immediately admitted him to a room and started monitoring him. We waited HOURS for the doctor to arrive, all while holding our newborn and watching him jerk uncontrollably. I’ve never felt anything like it before or since. I was totally helpless. Everything in me wanted to fix it, to make it stop. I felt that if I could somehow trade places with my baby - let him escape his body so I could crawl into it - I would do it in a heartbeat.
Jacin and I sat and prayed aloud, asking God to make it stop. We quoted Scripture. We declared our faith that God could and would fix this.
But it continued.
In the middle of the night, the doctor finally showed up and confirmed that Jackson was having seizures. After several scans and tests, the doctor explained that Jackson, our 3 day old baby, had bleeding on his brain. The situation was concerning and was beyond what this local hospital could handle. Emergency transportation was on its way to take us to Children’s Hospital of Atlanta - Scottish Rite.
All at once, the world completely stopped while time spun wildly around me. I felt like I was frozen in place but falling.
Why?
How?
What does this mean?
Will he be ok?
HOW CAN WE FIX IT?!?!
So many questions, but no answers. The CHOA ambulance arrived and the paramedics started packing us up for transport. The last step was to start an IV in Jackson’s tiny arm in case they needed it on the road. Despite the paramedics being pediatric specialists, it still took them several attempts to get the IV in. I just sat there with tears streaming down my cheeks while my baby screamed. I couldn't fix it. I couldn’t do ANYTHING to make it better. I was completely helpless.
We climbed in the ambulance, Jackson in the back with the paramedics, me in the front with the driver, and Jacin following behind in his truck. The whole way to Atlanta, I fought back tears and nausea. I listened to Jackson cry. I prayed. And I texted people like crazy, asking them to pray.
After arriving at CHOA, we were set up in a room and Jackson endured more scans and tests. Neurologists explained that basically, Jackson had experienced something similar to a stroke. Yes, there was bleeding on his brain. Yes, that was causing pressure and seizures. But the good news was the bleeding seemed to be slowing and resolving itself. We spent several long days in the hospital getting Jackson acclimated to seizure medication. Jacin and I took turns sleeping at the hospital or showering and sleeping at my parents’ house. Both sets of our parents stayed nearby, bringing us food and keeping us company. This wasn’t how I had imagined spending our first few days of parenthood.
I’ll never forget one morning at CHOA, Jacin walked in the room, returning from a night at my parents’ house. He sat down on the bed next to me, holding Jackson, and said, “Ya know, I’ve never understood those people who hold their hands up in the air singing or praying. I’ve always thought it was strange. But I get it now.” Jacin told me about standing in the shower the night before, letting the hot water beat on his face while he cried and prayed. He explained how, eventually, he had prayed everything he knew to pray, and he felt like the only thing left to do was to surrender - to let go and let God. “I just raised my hands up in the air, right there in the shower,” he said with teary eyes. “And I don’t know what’s going to happen or what’s coming next, but I know God has it.”
Jacin had been feeling helpless, too, and feeling helpless led him straight to The Helper.
After several days in the hospital, we were released to go home. We still didn’t have answers as to why or how it happened. Jackson was on new seizure medication, and we weren’t sure what the future held. Could it happen again? Would there be long-term effects from this stroke? Would he battle seizures the rest of his life?
So many questions, but not many answers. During Jackson’s first few years of life, we went through monthly Hematologist and Neurologist visits and annual MRIs in Atlanta. Even after all of that, no one ever found a solid explanation or cause for the brain bleed. I guess we’ll never know. But one thing I do know - well, three things actually…
God answers prayers.
God heals.
God never wastes our moments of helplessness.
Today, Jackson has absolutely no residual complications from his brain bleed. He’s been off seizure medication and seizure free for 13 years. It’s like the stroke never happened.
Except it did.
Jacin and I have the emotional scars to prove it… scars from wounds inflicted by helplessness and hurt, but covered and healed by the only Helper we’ll ever need.
So it was fitting that on April 16, 2025, as I helplessly watched my 15-year-old pilot my suburban dangerously close to the edge of the road, I remembered that same helpless feeling from another April 16th, 15 years ago. It was a full-circle moment. That baby boy with a brain bleed is now the young man driving my car. What a beautiful reminder that God sees, knows, and has a plan for our helplessness. He never wastes a moment, and He helps, heals, and redeems.
