Skip Skip, Skip to My Lou...

I loved to skip as a child. Very few modes of ambulation felt as joy-filled as skipping.

I remember skipping out of Joyner Elementary school with my best friend Neece's hand firmly in my grasp. There was no greater joy at 7-years-old than a Friday night sleepover with your bestie (though I'm not sure we used that word in 1970-something.).

I remember my cousins and I skipping to the neighborhood pool every summer afternoon at 2 o'clock on the dot. With a dollar in our little grips -- 50 cents for admission and 50 cents for snacks -- we were absolutely gleeful about the afternoon ahead.

Oh dear ones, my heart has felt like skipping all month. First, I became an aunt for the second time on March 5th. Olivia's birth was such a joy-filled moment that I honestly wanted to skip down the halls of the hospital every time we went to visit her. 

On Monday, I became an aunt for the third time when a precious little boy was placed in the arms of my waiting brother, Talley, and his wife, Sarah! Such joy! (I don't have pictures I can share just yet.)

And oh y'all, this Tuesday, we closed on our Mississippi home in preparation for our upcoming move this summer. As friends stopped by to say hello, as the neighbors all around us popped over to introduce themselves, as my cousin brought the sweetest pillow to christen the house -- you guessed it, I wanted to skip. I wanted to skip right through the neighborhood squealing the whole time. (I didn't. I didn't want to scare those welcoming neighbors to death.) But hear me, the delight was coursing through my veins and I felt that overwhelming feeling of skipping in the sunshine!

One day when we were barely 8, my dear friend and I were skipping out of the school when an older boy stopped us cold. He called us a name that neither of us knew the meaning of but his message was crystal clear: we were odd for the skipping. He squelched our joy that day and made us rethink our behavior every day after.

On occasion, my cousins and I would skip to the swimming pool to find a CLOSED notice on the gate. The pool needed repairs or had a swim meet being held. I still remember the sharp pang of disappointment such a notice would bring to our day.

When joy is brought up short, the hurt is powerful. When a skip turns to a slump -- well, there is pain.

Wednesday brought us that pain.

My dear darling sister-in-law (oh those words don't do it justice...I picked this wonderful woman to be my brother's wife and God has blessed us all with her addition to our family) at two weeks postpartum began experiencing some very frightening symptoms. Her mother rushed to get Olivia and my baby brother Len rushed her to the Emergency Room, no doubt saving her life.

Stephanie has been diagnosed with Postpartum Cardiomyopathy. Her heart is sick and strained from the pressure pregnancy places on a woman's body. She is comforting us all from her hospital bed -- true to her personality -- but our skip has been stunted.

Sweet Olivia misses her Mommy. And though my phone just lit up with the news that Stephanie will be discharged later today, we know the next two months are critical for her body to recover.

With her permission, I am sharing. And with my heart laid bare, I am begging you to join us in prayer for Stephanie's full recovery. We serve a God that cares about all the details and one who encourages us to boldly come before the throne with our requests. I am crying out to Him for my sister, for this young mother who wants to be 100 percent for her beautiful Olivia.

Will you help me restore the skip?