A Miracle Story: How God Saved My Life and Gave Me Purpose

I was four years young the day I drowned.

Too young to fully understand what death even was.

Too young to know I wouldn’t remember a large majority of it – but old enough to carry the weight of what happened in my body, in my story.

I was gone.

Lifeless. Unresponsive.

Then, breathing again.

This is not just a story. It’s a miracle – my miracle story… and a little bit about why I’m finally writing.

As I briefly mentioned, I don’t recall much about what happened, so this recollection is based on multiple stories shared by family members, as well as news articles and reports about that day.

It was the year 2000, on a Saturday afternoon, and my younger brother and I were playing on the back porch of our childhood home in South Carolina – a house with a gated pool.

My mom was outside with us, but when her job called, she ran inside – and my brother and I apparently decided to run to the pool. My mom got off the phone, sensed danger, and ran outside. When she got back outside, my brother was standing at the edge of the pool, and I was at the bottom of it.

My mom jumped in to grab me, and she carried my limp, lifeless body to the front yard to my dad, who was cutting the grass at the time. All my mom and dad could scream were, “Oh God!” and “Jesus!” repeatedly. (Oh, there’s wonder-working power in the name of Jesus!)

My mom and a neighbor were on the phone with 911, relaying instructions to my dad on what to do. Another neighbor, a supervisor at a Pediatric Respiratory Care, began CPR on me. By the time the emergency workers arrived at the scene, I was starting to regain consciousness.

I spent one day in intensive care, and my mom shared with me, later in life, that I told her that I saw angels. The only thing that I so clearly remember about this whole day is that I, at four years young, heard the voice of God say, “It’s not your time”. I couldn’t tell you how I got there at the bottom of that pool, but I can tell you how I got here – God.

A miracle.

It may sound cliché, but this experience has truly taught me to be grateful for life – for the breath in my body and for God’s grace.

I express my gratitude daily, but on my birthday, I become a little more emotional than on a regular day. Every year, I always stop and thank God for another year of life… because He truly did not have to let me live beyond four.

I have to admit, though, it’s strange to be a walking miracle and still growing up questioning your purpose.

Even more strange to survive something that was meant to be the end of your story and yet spend years wondering why you’re even here.

 Hearing the voice of God and knowing I’m here for a reason, but not sure what that reason was, got to me.

For years, I had the quiet ache of more, more, more – especially with my jobs, but that’s a story for another day.

I battled with these lingering questions:

Why am I still here? 

What am I supposed to do with this life? 

God is still working on this with me, but I know I’m here to share this testimony. That’s for sure.

I don’t have all the answers, but today, writing this now at the age of 29, I do know this:

God doesn’t waste breath, and if I’m still here, it means something.

Even when I feel lost. Even when I hide from my gifts. Even when I second-guess the very things that make me me. I’m here for a reason.

That’s what this blog is about.

It’s taken me a long time to finally show up here… I mean longer than I’d like to admit. It’s taken me a long time to finally show up, not just online but in my calling.

I’ve spent years burying my voice (mainly out of fear), keeping my creativity on the back burner, and trying to survive the noise of the world. But the older I get, the more I crave space for reflection, faith, and creative expression that isn’t tied to hustle or metrics.

That is my goal for this space.

I want this blog to feel like a place to breathe, to create, and to reflect – a quiet reminder to live with intention, even in the slow seasons that don’t make much sense.

Here, I’ll write about my faith and what I’m learning as I grow to be rooted in it. I don’t have it all figured out, but it’s the thread that held me through it all – even when I wasn’t holding on to it like I should have. I plan to share this space with you simply because I think the world deserves more honesty and more opportunities to learn about the God that has never given up on me. And God won’t give up on you, either.

I’ll share some creative work as well as reflections on gentle rhythms, not because I’m an expert but because I’m finally learning to honor the gifts I’ve been given instead of running from them. Being creative is a gift and a calling that I never want to take for granted.

I’ll write about living a life that matters – not for applause, but for alignment with God’s will for me.

So, if you’ve ever felt behind…

If you’ve ever wondered why you’re here or if you’re doing enough…

If you’re simply craving a slower, softer, more sacred rhythm to life…

Welcome.

There’s still time to begin again.

There’s still purpose in your breath.

There’s still a story worth writing.

And this is mine.