"I can still feel you hold my hand, little man
And even the moment I knew
You fought it hard like an army guy
Remember I leaned in and whispered to you,
'Come on baby with me, we're going to fly away from here..
You were my best four years."
~"Ronan", Taylor Swift
I met this amazing couple this year. They've been through a lot. They've been through more than I think I could ever handle. God has this way of putting people in my path when I'm blind to my own blessings as a sort of wake up call to help me remember what exactly in this life is sacred...like family.
I have this nightmare sometimes. I've talked about it before on a blog somewhere, but it's so uniquely profound that I think about it when I need a reminder of what in life is really important. In fact, I don't think it's a coincidence when I dream that dream. I believe it comes when I need to be "reset".
I, like countless others, am terrified of tornadoes. Their massive power, sound, and inhuman trait for the kind of danger, terror, and havoc they're actually creating is enough to make my face run cold. I lose myself at the thought that one could ever find it's path down our way. It seems like a tornado should feel. For as big as it is, it should feel. It should know. It should know to stop. But it doesn't. It has no idea; it's just a circumstance. It's a scary, unfortunate, invisible circumstance of moisture, wind, and instability.
In this dream, I'm always trying to figure out how to survive until it passes with my kids and family. My first priority is to find them wherever they are-just get to them. My second priority is to try to instill hope in them. Reassure them that I will do everything I can to protect them. I pray with them. My last priority is survive with them. Show them how they're going to hang on, tell them a thousand times not to let go, and find the most secure place possible to tie them down to the earth. I frantically look for where, oh where, will they not be ripped away from me. Please, God, help me hang on them to them while the deafening freight train of sound and life-stealing winds fight me for them.
While I dream, I can't separate truth from fiction. I know there are people that can snap out of it. They can tell themselves they're dreaming and can even wake themselves up. I don't have that luxury and I don't think it's coincidence that I don't possess it. I truly believe my dream is happening no matter what I try to do to prepare myself. I've carried this trait with me always, even as a child. That's why I used to pray my dreams away. In this dream in particular, I'm always compelled to be cognizant of what no one is doing. No one is stealing. No one is killing. No one is lying. No one is trying to get drunk. No one is having an affair. No one is online looking at things they shouldn't. No one is fighting. No one is mad. No one is looking out for themselves. They've left their lusts and differences way behind and they're frantically trying to help their families and friends. They're helping anyone time will allow them to help. But first, family. Very first...family. Everyone wants everyone else to survive. Everyone is scared, panicked, and desperate. No one is safe. Nothing distinguishes a person from the object next to them. The amount of money they have, their good health, the amount of people they sleep with, the kind of card they drive, or the doctorate they carry behind their name mean absolutely nothing for the first time in everyone's life. It all means absolutely nothing. The tornado doesn't play favorites and it doesn't care. It won't. It's not going to skip over anyone due to their influence, money, state of happiness, or accomplishments. You, me, and the homeless man next to us will all be taken up if we're not hanging on. All of the social walls and inequalities around us are torn down by a common terror.
What is its purpose? How can it have one at all? This circumstance of wind and instability comes in and wreaks terror into our hearts, takes us on a freight train of emotions, and sometimes we are still breathing once it passes. Why?
Circumstances people go through are a lot like tornadoes. There's no controlling them, dictating when they come, or have a way to handle them "correctly". They bring in disaster, break us apart, and are gone. We're left looking through the rubble for signs of life. What purpose do tragedies serve? It's so easy to feel like there is no other reason for the phenomenon but to simply cause pain, and I can't blame the person who would want to think so. I think that for me, though, I have to feel like there is a purpose. I don't serve a God that would create such a thing just to sit back and see what happens. God is love. I think Satan would want to do exactly that-do things to us and sit back to see if we'll give in, get mad at God for the things he himself has done, and happily watch as we throw in the towel to the wrong being and bow down to him in the end. He's the deceiver. I serve a God who wanted to protect us from these tornadoes, but we wanted to weather them on our own. I serve a God that loves me, who's concerned for me through them, and cares enough to comfort me when they pass. He is the life in the rubble.
Our family got dressed one evening this past December and did what was next on the calendar-a church event. It was the Christmas program. We enjoyed the singing and the fellowship with friends throughout the night. Toward the end of the program, I got up to escort my two kids to their designated locations since the finale would include them as candle carriers. I left the auditorium with them and knew I would be missing out on a treat. A guest singer from Puerto Rico had come to visit and would be singing some songs in Spanish. I looked through the window of the auditorium as he sang, wondering what his voice must have sounded like from the second row that I just left behind. He sung beautifully and I could tell I would have enjoyed it a hundred times more than in the lobby through a glass window. I was thinking about my enjoyment; my entertainment. In my life, things were wonderful. I had no idea his life was so scary at that moment. In that moment, Zuriel's family was experiencing their tornado. They were holding on and it seemed that the storm had calmed for awhile. But, unbeknownst to them, the tornado wasn't done yet. His wife, Ramleez, was at home. She wasn't singing that night. She was with their very sick son.
This is their story.
Ramleez Rubio:
We always dreamed of having a family since the very beginning.
It was love at first sight that united the two of us. After a Christmas Concert, while he sang, I said to myself, "Yes, I am going to marry him." After getting to know each other, we decided we couldn't be apart. We decided to marry, and we did on April 18, 2007. After our marriage, thanks to his love and support, I completed my studies in education on May 2008.
On September 12, 2008 our first bundle of joy arrived. What a blessing to our lives! He brought joy, laughter, lots of love and passion to our lives. It was through Zariel we came to understand the meaning of true love.
Two years later, our family grew a little bit more with the arrival of our second child. In August 11, 2010, our precious Nayomi arrived.
We feared a little, like many parents do, of how our older son would react. We were taken by surprise. Zariel could not be happier. As I think back to her birth, I can remember his complete happiness and his laughter. He didn't possess any jealousy toward her; only joy and lots of love. We felt our family was complete.
. 
A little more than one year later, in September of 2012, Zariel began to get to sick. He had just turned 4 the same month. It began like a virus. Every morning on his way to school, he would complain of stomach pain and headaches, which would lead to vomit. The doctors thought it was the flu at first until he experienced his first convulsion in October. After treating him for epilepsy for 3 months, his symptoms would persist. An MRI was performed in December, which revealed a large tumor growth in his brain.
We were then rushed to another hospital where our hardest journey of faith, acceptance, and complete trust in God began.
As
a child, I remember reading the compelling bible stories about Job and Naomi, as well as many others, and they always moved me. However, the thought had truly never entered my mind that it could happen to me. There
are moments in your life where God remains silent and you don't understand the reasons why you are suffering. But one thing
remains very clear-each and every one of these stories ends with great
blessing.
One year after preforming his brain biopsy on December 11, 2012, Zariel's journey ended. He passed on December 16, 2013. It happened six days after arriving to our new family of faith in Bammel Church of Christ in Houston, TX from Puerto Rico. We lost one of the most precious jewels God granted us the privilege to care for, give love, and teach him to love God over all things. Zariel was known for praising God as loud as possible, praying before each meal, praying when we traveled in the car, praying before each surgery procedure, praying before going to sleep, reading his bible, and being the best son, brother, cousin, grandchild, during his short 5 years of life.
Now our journey continues. Taking it day by day looking forward to the heavenly reunion God has promised his children.
He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death' or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away." Revelation 21:4
I'm thankful
God has allowed us another precious gift, wrapped in beauty and love. Nayomi, our precious gift. She, who stuck by mommy and daddy-giving
comfort, hugs, and kisses. She reassured us we have not finished our journey.
Every day she gives us strength, love, joy, and happiness. Just as
Proverbs 22:6 "Start children off on the way they should go, and even when they are old they will not turn from it."
Sometimes life here on this earth can be cruel, you may only experience pain, hurt, trials, deception, and heartache. But one thing you can be very certain of, "1Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth; for the first heaven and the first earth passed away, and there is no longer any sea. 2And I saw the holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, made ready as a bride adorned for her husband.…(Revelation 21:1).
Thank you, for reading our little story of Love, Family, Trial and Faith.
I can't thank the Rubio family enough for allowing me to display their love and faith for all to see and to give glory to God for their hope. This shoot was possible through the Purple Jars Ministry I do. A donation was made and I contacted their family. I heard their story at church and couldn't wait for the opportunity to approach them about documenting and telling it. My aim is not a personal or monetary gain. What I gain is a treasure in another world and in this world, it takes the form of friendship. I can't imagine spending my life in a better way than hearing people's incredible stories. Sometimes I can't fix it, I can't make it stop, I don't know how to handle it "correctly", but I can rejoice with them in their hope, I can let them know they are valuable, and I can take pictures. That is my gift. They will have something they are proud of and a chance to heal. They'll be able to hang up their prints in their home. Each Purple Jar family gets a free session, a free 8x10, a free 5x7, and all the digital files, but I think the biggest treasure is the memory of the beginning of a season of healing.
I've been praying over this blog since I heard their story. They sat on the stage with my minister at church and shared how the church had helped them through the surprise of Zariel's death. Tears streamed down my face as I listened. Of all things, they did a duet song of praise at the end. "How on earth can they do that?" I thought. "How do they have the strength?" My tornado dream rings true. Through the storm, they held on to each other for dear life. Just as I would hold on to them if they were near me. What if we all left our lusts and differences behind all the time and held on to each other? What would that world be like? I know for me, it gives me purpose.
In the time waiting for all of the ducks to line up in preparation for their story, I keep my heart open to the different ways God presents Wisdom to me. I relish in anything that will help me come just a little closer to understanding what their story is like. I'm not sure how-God has a way of making things happen like that-but I came across this story about Taylor Swift and a song she co-wrote with a mother who lost her son to cancer. The title of the song and the name of the boy is Ronan (pictured below). I listened to this song when I would pray about the Rubios and it's playing now as I write this blog. The first time I heard it, I was completely dismantled. I cannot imagine the heartache. But I'm glad the song exists so that I can come just a small step closer to learning about the terrible experience far too many parents have faced. Enjoy the video and the song below, but get a tissue first.
I don't believe there's a right way to handle a tornado. We just brace each other and hang on until it's over. In that moment, nothing else matters. And it shouldn't.
Ronan:
I remember your bare feet down the hallway
I remember your little laugh
Race cars on the kitchen floor, plastic dinosaurs
I love you to the moon and back
I remember your blue eyes looking into mine
Like we had our own secret club
I remember you dancing before bedtime
Then jumping on me, waking me up
I can still feel you hold my little hand, little man
And even in the moment I knew
You fought it hard like an army guy
Remember I leaned in and whispered to you
Come on baby with me we're going to fly away from here
You were my best four years
I remember the drive home
When the blind hope turned to crying and screaming, "Why?"
Flowers piled up in the worst way, no one knows what to say
About a beautiful boy who died
And it's about to be Halloween
You could be anything you wanted if you were still here
I remember the last day when I kissed your face
I whispered in your ear
Come on baby with me we're going to fly away from here
Out of this curtain room and this hospital grave, we'll just disappear
Come on baby with me we're going to fly away from here
You were my best four years
What if I'm standing in your closet trying to talk to you?
What if I kept the hand-me-downs you won't grow into?
And what if I really thought some miracle would see us through?
What if the miracle was even getting one moment with you?
Come on baby with me we're going to fly away from here
Come on baby with me we're going to fly away from here
You were my best four years
I remember your bare feet down the hallway
I love you to the moon and back
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