Everett Hart Blackiston
He is my little HIGH ENERGY dreamboat baby.
His story is a story of God's power.
Tim named him Rhett after a long battle for the first name.
I wanted to name him "Hart".
A hart is a strong deer.
The Song of Solomon girl compares her hunk-of-burning love to a "hart".
"My beloved is like a roe or a young hart"
Song of Solomon 2:9
And then you probably have heard this verse...
"As the hart panteth after the water brooks, so panteth my soul after thee, O God."
I hope and pray Everett "Rhett" Hart is a studmuffin :) whose soul thirsts for God and His Word!
I had him au naturelle.
I had an amazing delivery with him.
Had never felt the closeness of God like I did in that hospital room.
Everything about his delivery was dreamy. Tim gave me boots as a push present.
Life was good.
Until Rhett started projectile spitting up across the room.
Something was wrong. He could not keep anything down.
It went straight back up or straight into his diaper in weird slimy poops.
He was sickly.
He dropped into the "failure to thrive" category.
I will NEVER forget hearing those words.
Meanwhile, my dad was dying.
My mom got diagnosed with Stage 4 cancer also.
They were in TX at MD Anderson while I was desperately trying to figure out what was wrong with my baby.
He was getting sicker and tinier. I was nursing 24 hours a day.
The doctor made an appointment to test for Cystic Fibrosis.
I just broke down beside his bed and begged God to heal him and make him strong like Samson.
Soon after that, a man came up to me in HomeGoods and asked me if he could pray for my baby.
I was in the rug section.
It was VERY BIZARRE.
I said, "sure".
He prayed for exactly all the things we were experiencing. I hadn't told him anything.
He prayed for me too.
I said, "thank you".
My mom saw it.
After I walked away, I decided to go back and thank him. I wanted to tell him the truth and how God had used him in my life in a very powerful way.
There was no man in the rug section or in the store.
I am not an angel-experiencing-girl.
That HAD to have been some sort of messenger from God.
Soon after, Rhett began to get better and stronger.
I call him my little "Samson".
God did it.
He gave Rhett strength!
Tim made those cakes.
This party soon after my dad died.
I remember praising God for life after death.
Not only one life to celebrate but TWO!
"Return to your fortress, you prisoners of hope;
even now I announce that I will restore twice as much to you."
They call this babysitting...
Rhett makes me LAUGH. He is so happy. So loud and SO FUN.
He is about to be the death of me. I chase him every second.
He is constantly into everything or trying to escape.
He refuses to use the potty! I have bribed him with everything from skittles to large amounts of money. He was a late talker but now he talks all the time.
He calls Worth, "Worf". So does Crew. Crew even spells it like that.
He is still in his crib because I can't imagine him with total freedom to roam the house in the night!
He may be in a crib until he is 10.
He still loves pacis.
He SINGS. I think there is another singer in the family.
He loves me and I love him.
I love him like he was my only child.
He truly is my best friend.
I don't want to parent him out of my left-overs but Tim says our left-overs are probably better than what we started with.
Rhett looks like exactly like Tim to me.
I do pray God continues to give him the strength of Samson with the wisdom of Solomon to go with it. May God help me teach these little ones how to follow Him and worship Him!
I want them ALL to live in freedom.
"Let my people go, so that they may worship me "