* Orignial Testimony written April 1, 2014
Brandon was saved at 9 years old when an aunt and cousins took him to Vacation Bible School at Faith Baptist Church, not far from where he lived. From that time on Brandon was in church intermittently with the same aunt and cousins or with friends. At 12, his parents and grandparents began an at home Bible study. For 12 long years he was exposed to false doctrine and false teachings about the Bible and Our Lord. But The Lord had a purpose. He had plucked Brandon out of the fire at an early age and Brandon's Salvation kept his heart protected.
I was saved at 5 years old in my Momma's Sunday School class at Roland's Chapel Missionary Baptist Church. I know that there are some that would scoff and be skeptical of a 5 year old's Salvation. But I can still remember the lesson. Momma was teaching about Elijah and the ravens and how The Lord had provided for and protected Elijah because of his faith and love for The Lord. I knew then that I loved Jesus and I knew I didn't want to be bad any more and I asked Jesus to come and live in my heart. It was as simple as that. I think the whole church heard my Momma shout that morning.
Our childhoods were very different. I was raised in church. I was there every time the doors were open. Sunday School, VBS, Christmas plays and Easter pageants, revivals and jubilees. Brandon's family met once a week and read the Bible chapter by chapter and verse by verse. An amazing thing for a family to do. If they're teaching biblical doctrine and worshipping and praising The Lord. They were not. When Brandon and I started dating in 2005, I attended Bible study with him on many occasions and each and every time I walked away with a lot of questions. I was firm in my faith and knew false doctrine when I heard it. I went to my Momma with my questions and I prayed for Brandon. For 7 long years we argued tiresomely about the differences in our beliefs. I wouldn't give in to what I knew was wrong and he wouldn't give in because he knew no other way.
In May 2007 we were married in a very country ceremony in my family's barn. Even the mule made an appearance. I wanted babies and in December of 2007 we decided to start a family. We were living in a house owned by his grandparents and paying rent and doing our best to make ends meet. We had an old Fisher Momma Bear woodstove that did her best to heat the drafty 5 bedroom house. But we woke one morning to a cold stove and an even colder house. It was 12* outside that morning in January 2008 and as Brandon was trying to start a fresh fire in the stove, the creosote that had caught fire in the chimney, caused the chimney to explode when it caught fresh oxygen. This caused the burning logs to roll out on to Brandon, setting him on fire from the tips of his toes to his eyebrows. As he was screaming and tearing the burning clothes from his body, the rug, curtains, and pine wood paneling in the living room went up in flames. Brandon beat out the flames on his body, as I tried to throw water on an already out of control fire. We ran for the back door and I grabbed my purse off the kitchen table. We made it out of the house and ran past the kitchen windows to my car just as the windows in the house exploded. We had no cell phone service where we lived and our phones were still in the blazing house. We drove to a neighbor’s house to call 911. Brandon had only his underwear on and 2nd and 3rd degree burns on his legs where the logs hit him. I can still smell the acrid smoke that clung to him for days. We lost everything we owned in that fire. Sometimes I still go to look for something and realize it was lost in the fire. But The Lord protected us. Had we not woken up early that morning because of the cold, the creosote fire in the chimney could've killed us before we knew what was happening. The Lord saved us from that house fire, just as He has saved us from an eternal and undying hellfire.
In February 2008, a month to the day from the fire, I took an at home pregnancy test and it was positive. I was ecstatic. I had dreamed of being a Momma from the time I was a little girl. It was 5 am and I woke Brandon up with the news by jumping on the bed. I felt like I was floating on a cloud all day. I couldn't wait to rush out to the store and buy "I love Grandma" and "I love Grandpa" bibs to give to my parents. We were so excited to tell the news. Neither of us could keep it a secret. We went that weekend and bought half a dozen pregnancy and parenting books. We started searching for the perfect baby name. 5 days later I miscarried. We were crushed. I felt like my heart had been ripped from my body. It wasn't fair. We had been married less than a year and already we had lost our home and everything we owned and now our baby. We sat in the doctor's office with tears running down our faces as the doctor told us that it was common and that if I hadn't tested so early we probably would never have known I was pregnant. She went on to tell me I was due for my annual exam and asked if I wanted to go ahead with it while I was there. Her coldness and detached manner is something that still sticks with me today. I realize that to her it was an everyday occurrence, but to us, our world had just fallen apart, again. A baby is a baby, no matter how small, no matter how long you've known. A baby is a piece of your heart and soul and a blessing from The Lord.
It took us 18 months to conceive again and in that time we bought a house and started to rebuild our lives. In June of 2009 I tore my ACL and needed surgery to repair it. I was out of work for 12 weeks and in August, just before I returned to work, I took another home pregnancy test. I had taken so many in that very long 18 months that when it turned positive I nearly fell out in the floor. I couldn’t believe it. I just sat there and cried and thanked The Lord. Brandon was at work and I was at my parent’s. I had locked myself in the bathroom to take the test and I had been in there so long (because I had immediately called my new doctor’s office to make an appointment) that my Momma had come to check on me. I got off the phone and opened the door. She took one look at me and knew I was pregnant. We stood there and hollered like loons and praised The Lord for being so good. I was on cloud 9 and nothing could bring me down. I returned to work at the end of August and it wasn’t long until the morning sickness began. And I welcomed it. Everyone told me it was a good sign. It meant that the baby was growing and thriving. Our first doctor’s appointment went off without a hitch. Baby looked great on the first ultrasound at 10 weeks and the heartbeat sounded magical at 14 weeks. We returned for our anatomy scan at 20 weeks with an entourage in tow. My belly had grown and I had felt those tell-tale quivers and flutters of baby’s first movements. I was past the morning sickness and my life could not have been any better it seemed. Our family crowded into the room, cameras in hand, and the tech dimmed the lights and gelled my rounded belly. We anxiously awaited to be told what our bundle of joy would be. She suddenly turned and asked us to put the cameras away and said the doctor would be with us shortly. She asked our family to return to the waiting room and for us to follow her to the doctor’s private office. I knew in my heart, in the pit of my stomach that something was terribly wrong. And yet I was so unprepared for what the doctor uttered when she finally joined us. “I am sorry, but your baby is dead.” I would’ve collapsed if I hadn’t been sitting. I would’ve screamed if I could’ve found my voice. Instead I sobbed and clutched Brandon as tightly as I could. As if that would make it go away. She left us to prepare papers for my admittance to the hospital. I still had to labor and deliver my baby. I still had to walk to the waiting room and tell my family that my baby was dead. I still had to breathe even though it was the last thing I wanted to do. The next 24 hours were undeniably the hardest in our lives. I was admitted to the hospital and they medically induced my labor. 12 hours later I delivered a beautifully tiny, wonderfully perfect baby boy. He was no bigger than the palm of my hand and yet he was so perfectly formed. He had 10 toes, 10 fingers, tiny ears and lips and a button nose. Another 12 hours later and we took our son, Lachlan James, home to be laid to rest.
The next 6 months were very bleak. We were in a deep and dark hole full of anger and hopelessness. We turned everywhere but to The Lord for comfort. My darkness found me on the side of the tub, a fifth of liquor in one hand, and a razor blade in the other. I could not see past my pain. I could not see God’s purpose in taking my son from me. And I didn’t want to. The last thing I wanted to do was pray. I didn’t want to talk to God, I didn’t want to think about God. In my heart I knew He loved me and yet somehow instead of helping my pain, that only made it worse. I couldn’t understand why, if He loved me, He would take the one thing I wanted most away from me. Brandon’s drinking had gotten much worse, teetering on the verge of alcoholism. We fought constantly, each one of us dealing with countless demons. We were in the depths of despair and couldn’t, wouldn’t reach out and grasp the lifeline that The Lord provided and climb out.
Today I can understand. Today I can be thankful. Today I know that had Lachlan lived he would have been born deaf, blind, and mentally handicapped because I had an infection in my 1st trimester that we had known nothing about. Today I know that my Lachlan is running, playing, laughing and loving our Savior. Today I am at peace. Today I love my Lord more than I ever have.
In June of 2010, another positive home pregnancy test thrilled my soul and filled it with intense fear at the same time. I had not fully rebuilt my relationship with The Lord and the worry and anxiety plagued me. I went 19 weeks with no problems and then suddenly, while at work, my blood pressure shot sky high and landed me on bed rest. For the next 20 weeks. I was on blood pressure medicine and twice a week Non Stress Tests to keep my blood pressure under control and to keep a close eye on my baby, who through it all was deemed as healthy as could be. This anatomy scan was filled with delight and when the tech said that magic word we burst into tears. Boy. If Brandon’s grin had gotten any bigger it would’ve split his face in two.
In December 2010 I lost my job. By law they only had to hold my position for 12 weeks and I had exceeded that. I had been dreading it the whole time I had been on bed rest. It was a constant worry. My income had already been slashed to 60% while I was on disability and we were barely making ends meet as it was. How on earth were we going afford a baby with only one income? I did my best not to worry about money for the sake of the baby. I knew it was detrimental to my health, causing my blood pressure to raise and my swelling to worsen. I could not see how we were going to make it. I didn’t have faith that He would provide for us.
January 2011 brought the big day. We were so excited for the induction that we sat up all night and got to the hospital nearly an hour early. 17 hours, 3 failed epidurals, and a C-section later and we had the most beautiful blessing from God in our arms. We could not have been happier. Kieran Alexander-Brodie Boyd was the most magnificent thing I’d ever laid eyes on. I didn’t know that I could love something so tiny, so much.
Then, once again, that old familiar demon, worry, sat in. I had managed to put the differences in our beliefs out of my mind temporarily. But once Kieran was born I was not only accountable for myself but for him as well. The arguments began almost immediately. Will we teach him about Easter or the Passover? Will he believe in the Rapture or be watching for the Anti-Christ to return first? Will he be taught that drinking alcohol is a sin or permissible by the Bible? Will he be allowed to eat pork meat or must he abstain? The questions and the fighting were endless it seemed. We went around in circles, never managing to come to an agreement. I became very guarded and very protective of Kieran and what he was exposed to. This put me at odds not only with Brandon but with my in-laws as well. I was warring within my heart over what to do. Terrified all the while that divorcing my husband would be my only option and yet still not the right answer. I couldn’t stomach the thoughts of a custody battle or of him being exposed to the false doctrine and immoral ways of my in-laws without me as a safeguard.
In March 2011 my disability benefits ran out but I qualified for unemployment benefits. The Lord had provided despite my overwhelming lack of faith. The same month Brandon got a promotion at work which meant a raise. A double blessing, of which I was so undeserving but so very thankful for.
In September of 2011, when Kieran was 8 months old, I took another home pregnancy test. Positive. My heart leapt with joy and sank with apprehension at the same time. Again I was worried about the pregnancy and the baby. Would this pregnancy be as hard as the last? Would I carry this baby to term? Would this be a healthy baby? And this time the trepidation about how we would raise our children was all too real. But I was so eager and excited to have another tiny baby to love and snuggle that I pushed that uneasy feeling about raising them to the back of my mind.
In February 2012, I was 5 months pregnant with another boy (which tickled us to no end), and had enjoyed a wonderful pregnancy. My doctor had taken extra precautions from the beginning but the difference in my pregnancies were night and day. I was loving being a full time stay at home Momma and couldn’t wait for the new baby to arrive. Kieran had just turned a year old and was walking and talking up a storm. He was my delight, my joy, the very reason for my existence. And the cause of much turmoil. The breaking point came on a Sunday night. We had loaded up for the evening to go to the in-laws, as was our usual habit, but the moment we arrived there was so much tension in the air you couldn’t stir it with a stick. Kieran was sleeping and my rule was to never wake a sleeping baby, so I sat on the couch in the corner of the living room and did my best to keep him asleep as long as possible. It was Super Bowl Sunday and a good a reason as any for Brandon and the in-laws to drink, not that they needed one. It escalated quickly and as soon as the football game was over I was more than ready to pack up and go home. Kieran was thankfully oblivious to the drunken adults around him. He was wandering around into everything. I had been working on teaching him the word No and about consequences. Discipline was hard for me as a new Momma and I was doing the best that I knew how. But the in-laws disagreed. And one thing that Brandon and I had remained a united front on was that we were Kieran’s parents and that we would raise him as we saw fit (even if we couldn’t come to an agreement as to how). We didn’t want any interference from his parents or from mine. It was very important to me that I keep things as equally balanced as I could. My parents didn’t babysit Kieran because I couldn’t allow my in-laws to, I couldn’t trust them. My parents couldn’t have an inside dog because we’d asked my in-laws to remove theirs because we didn’t want Kieran crawling around in dog hair and on a urine stained carpet. My parents could only see Kieran once a week because the in-laws only saw him once a week. It was exhausting trying to maintain a balance between the grandparents but I knew if I didn’t it would cause yet another issue between Brandon and I. My balance imploded that night in an explosive and unpredictable fight that quickly intensified to a physical altercation. Never in a million years would I have dreamt that what happened could happen. The night ended in ultimatums issued from both sides. That was the last night Kieran saw Brandon’s parents. That was the last night Brandon drank alcohol. That was the last night we were out of church. Brandon came home the very next night from work and announced that we needed to get our family in church and that come Sunday, we were going. And we did. The Lord used such a terrible ordeal as a catalyst to set things in motion that no one could’ve seen coming.
Memorial Day weekend 2012 I went into labor. I was in denial. I was scheduled for a C-section for the end of the coming week and I still had a list a mile long of things that needed to be done. The contractions started on Saturday and continued through Monday. The only time they subsided was when I was in bed, lying completely still. With a 17 month old toddler running around, lying down in bed was never an option. They were still sporadic and not terribly painful so we held off on calling the doctor. Tuesday rolled around and by 5 pm the contractions had gone from every 10 minutes to every 5 within the last hour and by 7 pm we were on our way to the hospital. The contractions were coming every 3 minutes and I was gritting my teeth through the pain. By 10:38 that night I was holding another of the most glorious blessings from God. Devlin Jasper-David Boyd was breathtaking. I had secretly worried that my heart wouldn’t hold enough love for two babies. That somehow I wouldn’t be able to love Devlin as much as I loved Kieran. A mother’s heart is a miraculous thing. Somehow my heart grew in the very instant I heard his first cry. My heart grew and burst with love. God had given me 2 healthy sons and I was so thankful and so blessed.
In just the matter of a few short months The Lord had so transformed my life that it was barely recognizable. I was closer to Him, more in love with Brandon and happier than I had ever been. The Lord had truly worked a miracle in our lives. Brandon was a new man, a changed man, a happy man. Gone was the alcoholic, gone was the tobacco addiction, gone was the perverseness and filthy words he used to utter. Gone too was his family. From February to August of 2012 we had only seen and spoken to them 3 times. They had held Devlin once. They cut us out of their lives. Unable to abide by the stipulations we had set, they chose false doctrine and alcohol over their grandchildren. Brandon rarely talked about it. I knew the hurt was there. I knew his heart broke a little with each day that passed without them. But little did I know the work that The Lord was doing in his heart. As he mourned the loss of his parents as though they had died, The Lord was mending his heart, putting it back together with pieces of His own. On August 12, 2012 Brandon stood up in church and announced his call to preach. Never had a congregation been more stunned yet more accepting than that Sunday. But they had seen the difference in Brandon. When Brandon and I started dating, I never imagined we’d end up as a preaching family. The thought never crossed my mind. My Momma had always told me that she knew I was destined for great things. That The Lord was going to use me in a mighty way. I had always laughed. I’m certain she never expected this.
Our happiness didn’t seem to last very long. I reckon the moment Brandon stood up and announced his call to preach, the devil jumped on our backs. There was more hardship on the horizon. Brandon began to have difficulty at work, with his supervisor in particular. The man was ex-military and claimed to be a Christian. When he learned that Brandon was a young preacher he began to ridicule him for his faith and for his preaching. He continually brow beat Brandon and jumped on him for things at work that were out of Brandon’s control. The straw soon broke the camel’s back and Brandon had had enough. In March 2013, after a confrontation with his supervisor, Brandon sat down at a table in the break room and began to pray. He prayed until he felt he had an answer from The Lord and then he stood, gathered his things and walked out the door. He called me on his way home to tell me he had quit his job. To say that I was dumbfounded is putting it mildly. I called my Momma, still too shocked to cry, and asked her what in the world we were going to do. Pray she said. And pray is what we did.
It was the longest and the toughest 8 months of my life. Brandon couldn’t find a steady job and not for lack of trying. We filled out dozens and dozens of job applications. He even went door to door handing out his resume. He was placed several times with a temp agency but it was never for very long, never enough pay. I was at home with 2 babies, 1 still nursing and refusing to take a bottle, and couldn’t find a job with enough income to support us. We quickly fell into financial ruin, nearly lost our home, and almost lost our faith. Had it not been for The Lord and my family we’d have been in a cardboard box under a bridge somewhere, homeless with 2 babies. My Daddy helped us in ways I’ll never be able to repay. He became our provider, our protector, our champion. There was not a single time in that seemingly never-ending 8 months that we called on my Daddy that he turned us away. Never. He did all that he could to keep us clothed, fed and warm. And he never faulted Brandon for taking a stand for The Lord. My Momma prayed. My Momma encouraged. My Momma defended Brandon at every turn. My Momma is Brandon’s biggest supporter. She saw through the struggle and she put her faith in The Lord when I couldn’t seem to. My sisters and brothers are the reason my children have a home today. They gave Brandon work when they could so he could earn money and paid our bills when we couldn’t. There is not a soul on this earth who could ask for better sisters and brothers than what The Lord has blessed me with. My family has become Brandon’s family. They have taken him in as one of their own. They love him like he was blood. I cannot thank The Lord enough for our family, for the abounding love they have shown us.
In October 2013 in the midst of the madness that had become our lives, Brandon got a call from a close preacher friend of ours about a job opening. The job seemed like a long shot and never have there been more people praying for one man to get a job than there were praying for Brandon. On October 31st Brandon started his new job. A first shift job. A job making more money than he had been, with ample opportunity to move up within the company. Our sigh of relief was like the shot heard round the world. God’s grace was so abundant. The past 8 months suddenly made sense. We couldn’t know that Christ was all we needed until Christ was all we had.
In December 2013 I took a home pregnancy test. Our 5th positive. We were filled with anticipation and happiness. We immediately began planning. I had saved all our baby stuff from the boys and we only needed a couple of items. I already had names picked out and Kieran and Devlin were excited. The first couple of weeks went by quickly but then morning sickness hit and suddenly my energy was gone, I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t sleep, and I was dizzy all the time. Something wasn’t right. I could feel it in my bones. I prayed and I prayed for my baby and the pregnancy. And when I wasn’t praying I was trying to push the worry aside.
At the end of January 2014 I went to the doctor for my first check up and ultrasound. I was 10 weeks along. I knew the moment the doctor turned toward me that my baby was gone. The baby had not developed and there was no heartbeat. That familiar pain rose up again and gripped my heart. As much as I had feared it, I still had not really expected it. But this time was different. This time I didn’t cry out in anger and demand to know why The Lord had taken my baby. This time I didn’t let my pain separate me from my Savior. This time Brandon and I turned to The Lord with our grief. We turned to Him for comfort and healing. The pain was still there but the peace was too. I knew that God’s will is far greater and more perfect than my own. And I know that one day soon my family will be whole again. There will be 3 sets of tiny feet standing with my Savior at the gates of heaven. 3 sets of precious arms to wrap around my neck and 3 sets of perfect lips to kiss me and call me Momma. My angel babies are perfect in heaven where there is no pain and no sorrow and no darkness. And my Jesus loves them more than I can even comprehend.
The trials and the tribulations that Brandon and I have faced in the last 9 years have put a special burden in our hearts for other Christians experiencing hardships, for other mothers who have lost babies, and for the lost who have no Savior to call on for comfort and healing. Today we are praying hard and working toward building our ministry. God has placed a calling on our lives and we want to do nothing more than to please Him. The Lord is blessing Brandon with open doors to preach and we are so very thankful for them. We’ve started a website and a blog, all brand new territory for us, and the going is slow but exciting. Our boys are growing and filing our lives with so much love and gladness. Our family has continued to support us in everything that we do and encourage us at every opportunity. We simply want to love the Lord, to help those around us and bring glory and honor to God in all that we do and in all that we are.
*Update April 19, 2015
The last year has held much joy, excitement, change, sadness, and sorrow. But it has held more of our Father’s love, mercy, and grace than we have ever deserved.
Brandon is still on 1st shift at his job and it continues to be an amazing blessing. I am still staying at home with our boys. Both Brandon and I are enrolled in full-time college courses, he at Liberty University and I at Walden University. Our dream and goal, if it be the Lord’s will, is to open a Christian counseling center in our community. Our desire to serve our Master and to help those around us has only grown in the last year. Kieran has been in our county’s mobile pre-school program since August and he loves it. He goes for 3.5 hours a week and he enjoys playing with the other children so much. While Kieran is at school, Devlin and I spend time with my Papaw. It is such a joy to see the relationship that he has developed with his great-grandfather. I am so thankful that the Lord has given me the opportunity to witness the bond that has grown between the two of them. It is beautiful.
In February of this year the Lord decided to bless us with a baby, something I had long been praying for. However in March, the Lord chose to take our baby back to heaven. It has been hard and painful to understand and to deal with. It was very unexpected and though it is a familiar pain, it is never easy. But we know that we will be reunited to heaven one sweet day. Our family will be complete in that heavenly city, in the glorious magnificence of our Savior.
We are healing each and every day. The Lord’s grace has been present throughout it all. And we are continuing to pray about the Lord’s will for our family.
Today though was a joyous day. We had Brandon’s licensing service at our home church and the significance of it was overwhelming. It will never cease to amaze me the power that God has and the power of a single person's prayer. We were humbled by today and our prayer is to always and unceasingly follow the will of God, to be of service to Him, to bring glory and honor to His name. We are thankful to every single person who has ever uttered a prayer for our sakes and our ministry, to those of you who are a source of encouragement, support, and love, to our family, we'd not be where we are today without them and the Lord. And eternally thankful to the Lord for His soul saving power, mercy, grace, guidance, love.
