Lexi tried to slow her breathing, after all, hospitals and their terrible surprises were no longer a surprise for her. At least they shouldn’t be.

Just breathe. In. Out. In. Out.

Medical personnel moved with an almost annoying precision as if this was just another day. Prepping for surgery was second nature to them, and so it should’ve been for her too after one brain surgery, regular visits to neurologists and too many lumbar punctures to count.

“But it never feels normal…because this is not supposed to be normal.” she thought.

It had only been 5 years since her precious girls Sophia was born. When Sophia was just 4 months old, Lexi’s migraines she’d had since the age of 13 had intensified. Every day began to feel like she was underwater and even nearly overdosing on medication did little to alleviate her pain. That pain had driven her to the hospital. Now, years later, that visit was a blur. A blur but a dark blur with deep, scribbled impressions. She had been diagnosed with a Chari Malformation, which basically meant her brain was too big for her skull causing fluid and swelling in her brain. The doctor described the risks and then described them twice more, at her insistence, to her family members. It just seemed impossible that this was happening.

Lexi stared at her medical bracelet. The sights and sounds of a hospital never change.

That first surgery had not only been awful but also unnecessary. A misdiagnosis by a doctor who loved to cut and would later have his license revoked. She had been dealt a bad hand. But everyone has those now and then, didn’t they? But had hers been part of a longer losing streak? She didn’t want to think about the twins. She had miscarried them 4 months before getting pregnant with Soph. That had been dark, so dark, but then 4 months later there was hope. Sophia was born….at last life was on track. Until 4 months later and that first brain surgery. Nothing prepares you for that.

A swipe of cold alcohol across her lower stomach brought her back to the present. She hadn’t wanted this. She hadn’t wanted to get pregnant again. How could she do this. Her entire goal since the 2018 surgery was just to make it to Sophia’s 5th birthday. She had done it, but what now? She was only 25 weeks. Her frequent trips to get lumbar punctures had left her in a wheelchair throughout most of this pregnancy. Then the spotting began.

It was happening all over again. Hospitals. Doctors. Nurses. Needles. More. Always more. Not just a c-section, but an emergency c-section. Not just a delivery, but an operation…one in which she would have to be sedated. Her body was beginning to numb but her heart was aching. Fear was draping itself over her ahead of the anesthesia.

“She’s gonna’ be fine.”

Lexi shifted her gaze over to the nurse beside her. Her light pink scrubs set off her light hair neatly pinned back neatly and pleasingly for a woman of her age. Lexi noted her features. What was she? Early 50’s? But there was a softness that overshadowed the lines.

“Can I pray for you?” the nurse asked.

Pray? Lexi had been Catholic—well kind of Catholic—as much as her grandfather had hoped she would be—of course not. As a matter of fact, she didn’t really know if she believed in God at all. But right now, in this moment, she hoped He was real. She nodded slightly.

The nurse began, “Father, I pray that you would be with Alexandria. God guide the surgeons and the team as we deliver this gift of a child. I pray you would keep her and her mother safe and allow….”

Then darkness.



Lexi hadn’t waken up for hours. Nothing was as it was supposed to be. When she finally saw her little 1 lb 4 oz. baby girl, she was caught off guard once again. Amari was so tiny that she fit in the palm of Lexi’s hand and was almost translucent. Lexi stared at this tiny human. “If God is real, I need Him.” she thought.

Amari would be in the NICU for 109 days. Those 109 days Lexi spent at the hospital. She had been discharged, had gone home immediately, packed her bag and returned to her daughter. During that time Dayton had come by to keep Lexi company. Dayton and Lexi had met at work. Dayton had been the first one Lexi had told about her pregnancy with Sophia. They bonded immediately over all things motherhood. They both had December birthdays and were both quiet but unexpectedly settled women who knew how to take a joke. They laughed all the time, which is incredible considering some of the hardships they had gone through. Lexi didn’t often open up to people at work…who needs friends at work, after all. “Work is work,” she had often thought. But it was different with Dayton. Dayton was religious but never seemed to judge Lexi when she shared her past or her heart. Dayton seemed to understand. Plus, Lexi could find direction for motherhood in Dayton. Dayton’s towheaded 4-year-old Austin had just absolutely fallen in love with her ever-expanding belly and “their baby” during Lexi’s pregnancy.

Dayton had visited Lexi in the hospital after her first brain surgery. Post-surgery, her sweet little baby had been frightened by her mom’s swelling, bruises, and braces. Lexi was broken-hearted but she didn’t cry. Her goal of getting better for her daughter seemed out of reach. The surgery had not only proven unnecessary but brought more torrents of pain. Light was unbearable, food was abhorrent. 5 days without eating or even sitting up due to pain had left Lexi’s mother worried. It was Dayton who had been the one who had been able to slowly help her begin to make progress in sitting up gradually. Slowly, patiently, quietly, she had been there helping her take the smallest step toward recovery. Now, after her complications in Amari’s delivery, she was here, and once again urging, gently, calmly toward the next step.

“You should come to church with me.” Dayton said as she picked up Lexi’s empty Starbucks cup and headed to the trash can with it.

“Pfft!” Lexi sniffed quietly. “I’ll burst into flames if I step through the doors of a church!”

Dayton smiled and pushed a long golden strand of hair over her shoulder as she kept tidying.

“Well, you’ll have to convince Sophia.” Lexi shrugged.

That turned out to be much easier than she had anticipated. So, the next week, she found herself sitting next to her friend at Southern Hills. Sophia had been delighted to charge into class with her best little buddy Celeste, Dayton’s daughter, by her side. The service was different than what she had grown up with. The people seemed more relaxed and most were friendly. The music was modern and up-tempo. She still found herself a bit nervous and was glad Dayton was next to her. The sermon was in the book of Judges…Lexi couldn’t remember if she even knew there was a portion of the Bible by that name. Overall, she enjoyed the service—it had been interesting and all, but that was that. She had fulfilled her promise to her friend. However, as the months passed, she continued to think about the needs in her life. How would she raise her 2 girls—including beautiful Amari’s newly developing health struggles? What did she need to do both for herself and her daughters? Dayton’s faith seemed to guide her. What would that be like? Lexi knew something had to change, so she returned to church.

This time, the message seemed more relevant. As she heard about Jesus and his sacrifice on the cross for her sins, a longing inside her began to grow. What would it be like to be so fully-known and deeply loved?

“You should talk to Pastor Josh.” There Dayton was, once again, with her simple next step for her. In the hospital, it had been just sit up a little, just a 20 degree angle…gradual steps. Short movements toward physical healing; now it was short movements toward a deeper kind of healing.

“The pastor? I don’t know. I don’t think I can talk to him. I’d be so nervous.”

Dayton looped her arm in Lexi’s, and moved her calmly toward the front where the pastor was standing, greeting people. The appointment was made.

Lexi had been right…she was nervous. Pastor Josh was nice enough, and she shared some of her story with him. Dayton had prepared her. “He’ll ask questions. Just tell him what you are going through.”

The Pastor had once again shared more of the story of Jesus’ life and his death this time referencing Romans 10:13 “Whoever calls on the name of the Lord Jesus Christ will be saved.”

“He has already done the heavy-lifting. He paid for your sins. All you have to do is accept this gift.” he smiled, then was quiet for a minute as he watched her process. Sensing her hesitation, he then added, “Lexi, keep coming, keep listening to and learning about Jesus. Watch “The Chosen”—it’s a series on TV that shows more of the life of Christ, read your Bible, keep coming to church, and let’s meet again in a few weeks and you can bring Dayton with you if you like.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

He nodded and said, “Let me pray for you before you go.”

She nodded. Here it was again, someone praying for her. As the pastor began to pray, his words were edged out by the thoughts that came barging in one after another. So many thoughts, different, all uninvited, but all wearing the same color: shame.

In the following weeks, she kept thinking about that conversation. She knew she needed to follow Christ, but first she needed to get her stuff together. She wasn’t good enough yet. She would start to change. If she worked hard enough maybe she could be better.

Days later, while shopping together, Dayton brought up the meeting. “How did it go with Pastor Josh?”

The heaviness came. How could she say it. How could she explain to her friend that there was “stuff” in her life, stuff that she didn’t want to voice out loud. Stuff in her past and her present that a Christian wouldn’t have.
“I cuss a lot.” she blurted out. “and I need to get everything together, like my health and mental state, then I can focus fully on this” she tightened both hands on the shopping cart for emphasis, and then added “and clean up my mouth!”
Dayton didn’t miss a beat, “Lexi, stop being an ignoramus! Jesus doesn’t need you to fix yourself up. He already loves you and wants you. He’s the one who does the fixing. You just gotta’ come to Him.”
Before she knew it she was back at Starbucks and this time with Dayton by her side, and more importantly this time she was here with a new perspective.

Pastor Josh smiled, “Lexi, how are you? I know you took some time to consider Jesus and what He has done for you. He loves you and offers you salvation and forgiveness.”
She sat took slow, deep breaths. She looked up and felt genuine acceptance and love…from this preacher, from her friend next to her, and from something or someone else. Warmth seemed to be right there around her.
“Are you ready?” he asked.
She smiled and gave a nod.
He prayed for her. Then it was her turn. She felt overwhelmed in this moment. “God, you know who I am. You know all my stuff. I’m sorry for my sins. Please forgive me. Thank you for dying for me on the cross. I need you. I really need you, Jesus. I don’t know how to do this life…I don’t know how to fix myself, my health, of how to be a mom. God, please help me. I want to follow you. Please be my God. Please save me.”
A release of stress came. She was forgiven, and she was forgiven fully. A heavy weight fell from her shoulders in knowing she wasn’t on her own anymore. It was no longer just all up to her, she now had a present Savior, a Guide, a Healer for her soul. There was not a list before her of things to fix but rather things that had been forgiven. No more brokenness. Hope lay ahead for her now, and she would never be the same.

Lexi and Dayton are still best friends who attend and now serve together in the Kids ministry at Southern Hills Church. She is continuing her physical recovery and is looking forward to what God has planned for her next.

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