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by his response, so I quickly called my friend Mary. Hunter was now sitting next to me on the bed, staring at me and still not saying a word. I stood up and started pacing back and forth while holding the phone to my ear. As soon as Mary answered the phone, I exclaimed, “Mary, you’re not going to believe this. Hunter’s healed! He’s okay! He can walk!”

“Wow, that’s amazing, Jill. Hey, did I tell you about the new gift we have right now at Estée Lauder?”

And then, just like that, my dream ended.

I thought and prayed about my dream for days and asked God to help me understand its meaning. And He did.

Here’s what I believe God wanted me to understand… people forget. If God had healed Hunter this side of heaven, people would eventually forget. Initially, the shock and excitement of Hunter walking and talking, playing and smiling would be huge news—the top medical story everywhere, maybe even globally. However, it would only be a matter of time before something new would come along and people would forget.

We would all move on to the next big story. And the miracle would become yesterday’s news. That’s just the way we are.

As meaningful to me as that dream was when Hunter was alive—and however profound the lesson learned—I now believe there is another, perhaps even more significant, meaning that could only have been revealed after Hunter’s death. True, Hunter’s physical healing would have been pronounced a “miracle.” And indeed it would have been. But the miracles that are at the heart of the life and death of Hunter James Kelly are so much more profound than a single miracle of healing: The miracle of my marriage surviving. The miracle of our family still being together. I see a miracle every time I look at my two precious daughters and recognize the emotional and spiritual maturity brought about by their lives with Hunter. Hunter’s Hope Foundation is a miracle, and so are the lives being touched by the work there.

But the most profound miracle of all was having my son’s suffering lead me, Jim, and our two girls to the greatest act of suffering that changed (and continues to change) everything—the Cross of Christ. In understanding His sacrifice and suffering, we have found meaning and beauty in Hunter’s suffering.

So now, during this time in between earth and heaven, we cling to the one Person we desperately need, because He, too, is acquainted with sorrow and grief. The joy and hope in knowing that inspires us to persevere as we anticipate tomorrow, treasure yesterday… and look forward to forever.

Epilogue

While I Wait

September 9, 2009

I’m sitting in my office looking around at the clutter that follows writing a book—journals, memoirs, notes, reminders, my Bible, page after page of words—and my eyes wander out the window. I see the beauty of the first signs of autumn everywhere. Fall is my favorite season, and always has been. After all, it’s when… football season starts! (“Are you ready for some football?” We are always ready for some football in the Kelly house.) The sprawling sunburst honey locust tree outside my window is starting to turn a stunning array of golden yellow hues. And our maple trees are changing, bursting into all sorts of maroon, red, and bright orange shades. It’s breathtaking.

Today is my birthday. I turn thirty years old… okay, forty. Jim, Erin, and Camryn woke me up this morning with snuggles and singing. The birthday hat Camryn insisted I wear is just a tad tight—kind of like some of the cute jeans I used to wear. I’m surprised my little Chihuahua didn’t come running through the house with a party hat on, too. It’s probably only a matter of time before Camryn makes me beat a piñata or do something equally embarrassing. I mean, I am forty.

Regardless of the fact that all three of them would like to see me run around like a monkey and perform circus tricks, I do know they love me and want me to have fun today. The number forty is plastered all around the kitchen, thanks to Jim and his two little helpers. I get it… I’m forty, and you want everyone and their brother to know it.

Before