Our story is about a fateful day when the actions of one person had a piercing and life-altering effect on my family. An unimaginable tragedy and near-fatal accident would later become the epitome of the power of prayer. After living most of our life paycheck to paycheck, we purchased our first home in 2018, and 3 years later, we were finally living comfortably without any financial burdens lingering over our heads.
Team Thomas: Party of Seven – I am a chiropractor with a big personality and an infectious smile. My husband, a colorful storyteller, is a chef who would move heaven and earth for our 4 children. Our oldest daughter, Camryn, shows her creativity by playing the piano, cooking, baking from scratch, painting and drawing from blank canvases, and she loves all genres of music. Kendall, our second oldest daughter, is the social butterfly who dances to the beat of her own drum and knows everyone. Chase, our third born and our only son, is the sweetheart of the family. He loves sports and is passionate about helping those in need. Finally, there’s Kaiden, our youngest daughter, who is sassy and a whole movement by herself. My mother, a feisty, energetic, “golden ager”, and retired educator of 44 years, completes the family circle.
It was January 11, 2022 – a beautiful Tuesday winter day. At 51 degrees, the sun was shining, and the air was crisp. Although I was in quarantine recovering from COVID—for the second time—I was still at peace and there was a calmness in my house. The outside world was slowly beginning to progress and adapting to this new way of living with COVID for the past two years. The phone call I received that day turned my world upside down.
My mother and my husband were up early that morning with the kids, getting them off to school, sharing their words of wisdom and saying their “I love you’s.” My husband had been preparing creative concoctions to help me battle my COVID-19 symptoms. To pass my time along, I had begun binge-watching various shows that were long overdue.
It was approaching time for Kaiden to get home from school, and in her clockwork-like fashion, she called me on the phone at 3:08 p.m. to tell me all about her day. We talked and laughed, and then she said, “You know I’m going to call you back soon.” She always called me to inquire what snack she should have each day.
At 3:58 p.m., the phone rang. It was Kaiden as expected, but what she said next was unexpected. Starting off trembling, her voice escalated to a screeching, crying tone – pleading with me to call my husband as Kendall had been in an accident. Heating the urgency in her voice, I hastily got up and looked out of our bathroom window. My husband’s truck was gone. I began to panic because neither he nor my mother were answering my calls. Finally, my mother answered. Initially disguising her knowledge, my Mama finally broke down and confirmed the accident. After hanging up, I tried to reach my husband again. All he knew was Kendall was hit and a bus was involved. Immediately, horrific images flashed in my mind, and I couldn’t stop crying because of all the unknown “hows?” and “whys?”
I finally received a call from the mother of one of Chase’s teammates, who recounted the story to me:
After school, Kendall was waiting at the crosswalk as buses were passing. One bus stopped to allow Kendall to cross. Kendall was almost on the other side of the street when a car approaching the other way struck her. She flew upwards and landed on the left side of her head in front of her 11-year-old brother Chase. Parents, staff, bus riders, walkers, and anyone who had after-school activities watched in horror as she lay on that cold asphalt; motionless and bloody.
This mountain, this unimaginable and near fatality, was the event that shook not only my family, but it shook the community and led to prayers being said around the world. It was the season of my highest highs and my lowest lows. But in the midst of it all, God was transforming me as I began to shed the humanistic layers of me and reveal Him.
It wasn’t until this inconceivable accident that I understood what it really meant to be vulnerable and authentic in my praise and worship. I never could recall or pinpoint that moment in time when I found God. It wasn’t until that moment that I knew what it felt like to be in God’s presence for myself. Before Kendall’s accident, I could see it in others; I could sense the shift in the atmosphere; I could even feel moved at times.
But most of my experience with God had always been more methodical than personal and significant. I prayed because that’s what I was taught as a child. I talked at God and not to God. I prayed harder during the challenging times but prayed less when doors were opening, and blessings were coming our way. Of course, I was grateful, and I thanked God, but my sincerity and my consistency were questionable.
January 11, 2022, became one of the biggest mountains I have ever had to climb. There was no time for preparation. There was no time for hesitation. There was no time for contemplation. All it left me with was too much time in devastation; too much time in frustration; and too much time in desolation. I was overwhelmed. I was anxious. I was numb.
And just when I thought all hope was lost, God would rescue me. From every mountain, from every trial, from every tribulation, from every disruption, from every uncertainty, God carried me through. He gave me a new day, a new song in my heart, and a new outlook on life each time. Each time, I drew closer to Him. Each time, my faith grew stronger. Each time, my praise became more purposeful.
The news of Kendall’s accident spread rapidly due to word of mouth and media coverage from several outlets, but I was getting overwhelmed by several private messages, trying to correct what was being said, so I began posting on Facebook. Initially, it was just to get information out about Kendall in the quickest, most thorough way without having to repeat myself several times via text. Eventually, my posts became therapeutic for me; it was my sounding board. It allowed me to verbally express my raw emotions while facing the unknown fate of my daughter. I would post things such as but not limited to her brain surgeries, her neurostorming, her declines in oxygen, her spikes in fevers, or any statistical changes.
At the end of each post, I would ask for specific prayers because her prognosis wasn’t promising as she suffered from a Traumatic Brain Injury (TBI). After the first month or so, I eventually went from daily to weekly posts – and always on Tuesdays. Tuesday was the day of her accident, and it was also the day I asked the world to petition the hardest to God on Kendall’s behalf.
As months passed, I began to get back to some sort of normalcy and started venturing out to my favorite spots. . .Walmart, Dollar Tree, Marietta Fish Market, and the nail salon. It wasn’t until then that I was made aware of the impact my venting had on strangers. I would get the stares of “Is that her?”, “Bless her heart,” or “I just want to hug her”. Meanwhile, I was thinking, “Why are these people staring at me?”
I was oblivious to the fact people knew who I was and were very aware of my daughter’s situation. The stares sometimes turned into conversations, and people came up to me saying how they looked forward to my Tuesday posts, not only to get information regarding Kendall but to find some peace and encouragement for themselves.
I recall meeting a lady in Kennestone Hospital whose husband was battling the end stages of cancer. She told me that she searched for my Tuesday posts once she was informed that her husband was being transferred to hospice and that it wouldn’t be much longer. She shared that I gave her the comfort she desperately needed. Even mothers who had lost their children found comfort in my posts. It was at that point that my writing shifted.
I knew that the words I had to post had to meet three needs: share information about Kendall, display my transparency, and be a light to others while still holding on to my faith. The more people I encountered, the more anxious I became about my Tuesday posts. God’s presence and His conviction over me was so powerful that these messages started coming to me in the middle of the night, in the shower, during therapy sessions, while eating, or at church. This was when I realized God was using me as an instrument, and He had put me in a position to restore faith in others.
Kendall was unconscious for almost three months. She sustained a traumatic brain injury and was fighting for her life. Due to the severity of her injuries, she has to relearn how to do everything, from talking to walking. Her brain has to relearn how to use every muscle for that function to work. Her eyes had to learn how to look in all directions again. Her tongue has to learn how to move in all directions. She had to relearn how to hold her head up, which would lead to her learning how to sit up, stand, and eventually walk unassisted.
Physically, she is similar to an infant, and neurologically, she is similar to a young child. When Kendall became more alert, she had movement on her entire right side from head to toe but no movement at all on her left. Her disposition mimicked a stroke. Her right leg was locked in extension, her right foot was locked in a pointed position, and her left elbow was locked in flexion or flexed position. Both hands were tightly closed. She has had four brain surgeries and three other procedures to accommodate her breathing and feeding.
Currently, Kendall has gained head control and can sit up unassisted for a few minutes. She is talking with fifty percent being understood by strangers. She can take small bites of food and drink through a straw. Academically, she is a functioning third grader. She has a sense of humor and loves music, especially Beyonce. Her favorite color is pink. Her favorite foods are bacon, eggs, macaroni and cheese, and ham. Her favorite place to go is church.
Although Kendall has made remarkable and miraculous improvements, she still has a long way to go. This entire journey, like life, is a marathon. What might seem like a sprint to some, may be a lifetime for others. Going through this journey with Kendall gives me a whole new meaning and a new appreciation for the words “Thank you, Lord, for waking me up this morning,” because the wake-up prayer for Kendall once was “Lord, just open one eye today.”
Encouragement for Moms:
When the silence is the loudest, when your mind is inaccessible, and your emotions are untamed, remember God will move mountains and do the impossible. He will carry you through. Seek Him first. Keep your faith, and even when it wavers, God is still there. In life you will experience the unreal; it’s up to you to turn that bitterness into something better. Allow yourself to be vulnerable, share your test and watch a beautiful testimony unfold. God wants to use you as an instrument. Let Him and watch Him work.
Prayer for Moms:
May God grant you peace, understanding, and comfort. May He keep your mind in a sound state, protect your heart, and carry you when the load gets too heavy. As He increases your faith, may He also bless you beyond measure. In Jesus’ Precious Name, Amen.
Connect with Shanna:
http://www.wakeupbrainllc.com
FB: Shanna Mae
IG: appleface, wakeupbrainllc
A Go Fund Me has been set up to support Kendall and Team Thomas: https://gofund.me/58361689
Want to hear more of Shanna’s story? Watch our Moms Night In conversation on YouTube.
Or watch here on our Faith-Filled Moms Facebook page.
Faith-Filled Moms 