Written on Our Arms, Written on Our Hearts

Last week, my very large and tight family had a scare.

My 16-year-old niece, who is an athlete and the picture of health, had been found to have a tumor at the base of her skull. When my sister-in-law sent a message to our family group text asking for prayer before an MRI scheduled for the next morning, it caught all of us off guard. No one could have seen that coming.

Within minutes, the group text came alive. My siblings and their spouses, nieces, and nephews all began responding with messages of encouragement and promises to pray. Then someone had an idea.

They wrote my niece’s name on their arm.

Soon, photos started pouring into the group chat. One after another, family members sent pictures of their arms with her name written across them as a reminder to pray every time they looked down throughout the day, evening, and next morning.

At first, it may have seemed like a small thing. But y’all, something happened during those hours of constant notification dings.

It became more than photos. More than words of support. More than anything I can fully explain.

We knew we were storming the gates of Heaven together.

It was a family of prayer warriors united in purpose, lifting up one precious young lady before the throne of God.

My niece’s parents had been carrying the weight of fear and uncertainty by themselves until that moment. As the messages continued to arrive, the tears came.

But they weren’t tears of despair. They were tears of love. Tears of gratitude. And the tears that come when you feel the overwhelming presence and power of God moving through His people.

As each photo arrived, the burden seemed lighter. The fear was being replaced by faith. The uncertainty was being met with peace.

We were reminded that while we may not always understand God’s plans, we never walk through life’s valleys alone.

Scripture tells us that where two or three gather in His name, He is there among them. Last week, our family experienced that truth in a powerful way.

I’m happy to report that God saw fit to intervene. The MRI revealed that the tumor is small, benign, and treatable with medication.

When the news came, our family celebrated together and gave thanks to God, the Great Physician. And, I’ve been singing praises ever since.

This experience reminded me that prayer is never our last resort—it is our first line of defense. It reminds us that God hears, God cares, and God is still working miracles every day.

No matter what burden you may be carrying today, don’t carry it alone. Share it with God. Share it with those who will pray with you and for you. There is incredible strength when believers come together in faith.

I’m sharing a song below that has been on repeat for me all week. Every time I hear it, I’m reminded of God’s faithfulness, His mercy, and the power of prayer.

To God be the glory.

“For where two or three gather in my name, there am I with them.” Matthew 18:20 (NIV)

June 19, 2026 Morning Brew