On Interruptions and Miracles

This is the Parsons family. I've told their amazing story here before. They adopted Zion almost three years ago. 

I remember the call. They were vacationing as a family and I called interrupting birthday celebrations.

"Do you have a minute? I'm calling because there's a baby in the hospital who needs a family..."

I went on to tell them about a little guy, less than three pounds who was left alone in a hospital NICU. His birth mother was not in a season to parent and didn't even know she was pregnant when she went into labor 11 weeks early. 

I remember talking with Jeremy and Ashley very candidly about how fragile he was and all of the unknowns of his future. They knew exactly what they were walking into when I led them several days later up to a little isolette in the NICU to meet their son, Zion for the first time.

And I watched as instantaneously they fell in love with him.

That phone call three years ago interrupted Jeremy and Ashley's lives in more ways than they could have imagined. Since then they have almost lost Zion, celebrated Zion's ability to hear when they thought he might be deaf, and have gone through countless therapies, surgeries, and treatments.

And at their last doctor's appointment, they got the diagnosis they anticipated but was still earth-shattering: Zion has cerebral palsy.  (You can read more about his diagnosis here.) 

But Zion coming into their lives in the surprising way he did has never been an interruption to their family. This little guy is so loved and cherished by his parents and doting and protective big brothers. When they received the call that changed their lives forever they had no idea what was ahead. But Ashley will tell you in a heartbeat that she wouldn't change being Zion's mama for anything.

As the gravity of this diagnosis continues to sink in, so has the revelation of the further care that Zion will need and their desire to provide the best possible support for him. And it's costly. In addition to the medical bills they are facing, the school that would provide the best care and therapy for Zion is expensive.

As Ashley wrote last week:

We have no control here. We don’t hold the cards. We don’t get to call all the shots. We can’t predict the future or change the past. We can’t even change the hearts of the social workers so they want to help our son instead of just win the money battle. We can’t make $700 appear magically each month so we can send him to the school where his therapies would continue and he could be around other kids like him. We look at the sign on my wall and realize it’s not completely true. because we can’t do this. The only way we are going to keep Zion alive, parent Zion well, and see his needs met is if God does all of this for us and through us – moving mountains we can’t move, and giving hope we can’t find within our own efforts.

I wanted to share a way we can help. We can partner with God and this amazing family in moving mountains for Zion. Ashley, Jeremy, and Zion could use prayers from all over the world. His life has already been one miracle after another. And you can check out a practical way to help here. For more of their story, you can follow their blog at We Are the Parsons.