Part 11 (2/2)

That's the kind of pragmatic, service-minded ministry Kevin and I always expected to practice, so it took us a while to figure out what we were supposed to do with all this. We weren't sure we wanted to put ourselves out there when Pastor Scott asked if Kevin, Anna, and I would be willing to make a video to show to the Sunday school cla.s.ses at church and then to get up and speak in front of the whole congregation. This was not long after Anna's encounter with the cottonwood, so the changes in our lives were very new, and we were still feeling vulnerable.

But when he asked us, before I could politely decline, Annabel breezed by with a cheerful, ”Okay!” Didn't break stride. Didn't wonder if she'd be any good at that. Didn't twist herself into an anxiety pretzel about what to wear or how to phrase things or who might have blah-blah-blah to say about it.

”Well, how would that work?” I asked. ”Would you give us the questions in advance so I could prepare?”

”Sure,” he said. ”But I really want you to just be yourselves. We'll keep it casual. Conversational. You know.”

No, I certainly did not know. I knew no such thing. Never in my life had I considered getting up and speaking in front of... well, figure about 250 people, three services... oh, G.o.d in Heaven. That was eight million people. Okay, 750 people, but still!

In the end, after all the worrying, it was rather wonderful.

One night when I was grilling myself, I asked Kevin, ”Do you want to go over this list of questions?”

”No,” he said, flipping the page of a mystery novel he was reading. ”I'll wing it.”

”Don't make me smack you, Dr. Beam.”

”Christy, you'll be fine. He said be ourselves. I don't know how to be someone other than myself, and I love your self. I happen to think your self is pretty fine.”

Our church, like our family, was going through a major transitional period. The quaint old sanctuary had been outgrown, and the new sanctuary was in the planning phase, so wors.h.i.+p took place in a big multipurpose s.p.a.ce. The stage up front was set with a sofa and chair. Very casual. Conversational. While the opening songs were sung, I instructed myself to breathe in through the nose and out through the mouth. Finally, it was time for us to step up there. Abbie squeezed my hand, and Adelynn gave me an encouraging smile.

I don't remember what all I said; I just told the story-where we'd been, where we were now, how we felt G.o.d's hand on us. There were moments when I heard sniffles, gruff clearing of throats, and saying some of those things out loud-especially how Anna had expressed the desire to go be with Jesus-I felt tears burning in my own eyes. I used the notes I'd typed on my phone and computer to reconstruct what Anna had told me about her experience in Heaven. I wanted to get it right. Then Kevin spoke, and he pulled it all together so beautifully with the heart of our family, I felt myself welling up again.

Apparently it went well, because after the first service, someone in the congregation got on the phone and arranged for someone to be there with a video camera at the third service. I told our story again, and then Kevin spoke.

”We've been in the exact same seat where you're sitting right now,” he said, ”and I've been in a lot of pain. Times can be challenging and very rough, and some of you may be in that place today. I've been out there and listened to these songs that just brought tears to my eyes, as I knew my daughter and wife were in Boston in a children's hospital, and I was here, trying to take care of the other two. We've been through hard times, and we probably will have others. Certainly you have also. The thing I have found is that the faithfulness of G.o.d has been what I can count on and rest a.s.sured upon.

”I'm a positive person. I try to say, Everything's going to be okay.' But I've had to allow myself times to say that it's hard, and that's okay. When you spend three weeks living in a children's hospital, you get a different perspective on life. Many times I prayed, Lord, I can take this. Let me have what she's dealing with, and let her be okay.' I'm sure many parents and grandparents have prayed that prayer. But G.o.d had different plans for Anna's life, for our lives, for our entire family, and for your life and your children's. G.o.d knows a lot better than letting me or you write the script.

”Very few of us get to say, I sat in Jesus's lap, and I'm okay.' That's something we will cherish as a family, and Anna will cherish as her personal testimony her entire life. But even without that visual representation, He is with us every single day. I was beside myself thinking, She's been inside this tree by herself for hours. She is going to be hysterical. What is she going to be like?' She actually came out of this experience better, knowing that G.o.d has a plan for her life, and she wants to be able to fulfill her purpose in life. That's made me rethink-maybe I do need that childlike faith a kid has. Learning something from your nine-year-old daughter can be humbling and beautiful.

”We're here in church and hear amazing messages and things, and then we go home and go about our daily life. But this is something that has had a profound influence on me. This is real. This is life. It has been hard, but it's real, and G.o.d is real. It's given me the chance to learn from my daughter, and maybe go and jump up onto Jesus's lap myself a little bit.”

Kevin started to hand the wireless mic back to Pastor Scott, but Anna suddenly decided she wanted to say something too. There was a brief moment of Oh, dear. She's bogarting the mic! She's bogarting the mic! Please, G.o.d, don't let her say anything about the time her daddy tipped his motorcycle over and swore his head off.

”We were rock solid till that point,” Kevin said to me later. ”I thought, if all of a sudden Anna says she saw My Little Pony, then-kaboom. We all look ridiculous. I handed her the mic, and I'm thinking, G.o.d, this is on you. If you don't stop it, then...”

”Then what?” I asked him.

”Then let her be G.o.d's vessel.”

”I have been believing in G.o.d before I was even in pre-K,” she began. ”I don't hear Him every day, but I hear Him a lot. I heard Him and saw Him that day inside the tree. So I know that G.o.d is real, and I know that He has glory, 'cause if He wasn't real, I would have broken my neck when I fell in that tree. I would have died from my stomach problems 'cause I've had them since I was born. I would have not been what I am today. I'd be hurting, and I'd be dead probably, if there wasn't glory from G.o.d and if He didn't love us. He always does, and if He didn't, He would have just let me die. He wasn't going to do that. He led me to different doctors, and two or three of them actually knew how to help me. So G.o.d does care about me. And He does have glory. And He has a purpose for every single person in the world. You weren't just made for fun. You were made to be a beautiful creation. So if we all come together and we all believe in G.o.d, then I'll see you in Heaven later.”

Like I said. It's about where the rubber meets the road.

A year later, Anna and I were invited to speak at a United Methodist church in Alvarado on Mother's Day. By this time, Kevin and I were certain of Anna's healing, and I was ready to claim that promise, loud and proud. But I wasn't about to do that unless it was absolutely okay with Anna and Kevin.

”I just want to get it right,” I told her. ”And I never want you to feel bad or uncomfortable about any of it.”

”About all that stuff you wrote down, you mean?”

”Right. Anna, if there's any part of this story that maybe I didn't understand correctly... or maybe now you remember it differently... or if there's anything you'd just rather we didn't talk about...” I kept pausing, trying to give her a chance to wriggle out of any or all of it, promising her no one would be mad or disappointed. ”Is there anything I should say differently when I speak in church?”

”No,” she said, ”that's right.”

”Would you like to say a closing prayer at the end?”

”Okay,” she said brightly. ”Sure!”

”Great.” I smiled. ”Maybe we should practice that part.”

Annabel gave me the tweenage whatever eyebrow look. ”Practice praying?”

”Well, there will be a lot of people there,” I said. ”You might feel nervous. I already feel nervous, and we're not even there yet.”

”Am I still praying to G.o.d?”

”Yes.”

”Then what difference does it make?”

Busted.

On Mother's Day, she got up there and prayed her little prayer-a heartfelt, unrehea.r.s.ed altar call, inviting others to know the peace and love she's found with her Savior-and there was not a dry eye in the place. ”Honey, I want you to know this was the best Mother's Day of my life,” an elderly lady told us. Two weeks later, the girls and I were out having a mani-pedi day, and a lady approached us to say, ”Are you the Beams? You spoke in my church, and it changed my life. I just want you to know, I've been going to church all my life, but since that day, I've been looking, and I can see G.o.d's faithfulness all around me. In all the ways you said. He is faithful. And now I want to prove to Him that I will be faithful.”

She left us sitting there amazed and humbled. I lay in bed that night thinking about it, and a thrill went through me when I thought about being a small, sparkling drop in G.o.d's great ocean of love. That peace Angela had felt as she held the pipe-cleaner bracelet, the loving-kindness that includes a lonely little girl in a backyard pool party-the profound healing effect of Anna's miraculous story had begun to ripple out into the world.

OUR FINAL APPOINTMENT WITH Dr. Nurko is scheduled for midmorning, but Anna wakes up insanely early, excited about seeing him, excited about going to the Children's Museum later, excited about how cold it is on the streets of Boston, which are already decked out for the holidays. She's excited that the cab smells very strongly of garlic bread. She's excited about life.

Arriving a little early at Boston Children's, Anna catches sight of Dr. Nurko in the hallway, and she runs to him and throws her arms around him, squealing, ”h.e.l.lo!”

”Well, h.e.l.lo... Anna, my gos.h.!.+”

”You still have your Elmo lanyard,” she notes happily.

”I do, yes. And look at you!” He hugs her and smiles his great, wide smile. ”Amazing! I'm so glad I get to see you.”

”When it's our turn,” I tell Anna, steering her into the exam room.

As the nurse prepares to take Anna's vitals, she hands me two pages listing all the medications Anna was on last time Dr. Nurko saw her.

”Could you please go over these?” she says. ”I need you to review for accuracy so I can update on the computer. Just mark the ones she's still taking.”

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