"Waiting Room" The Seanton Jorden Story
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About this ebook
“Waiting Room” The Seanton Jorden Story, is a gripping narrative inspired by true events. It tells the story of the life of a 15-year-old boy who was simply playing video games, and was tragically shot in the head with a pellet gun by his friend. This powerful book delves into the life of Seanton prior to this horrific incident, and his amazing transformation after a super-natural encounter with God, marking the way for a colossal vision and purpose. It also tells the story of the tumultuous days afterward as his family begins their journey of many days and nights in the physical waiting room, and many more years in the emotional and mental “waiting room”. It’s a story of tremendous faith, long-suffering, and the bonding of a family, through the eyes of a father who tells a story about overcoming unsurmountable odds in the midst of the most difficult time of his family’s life.
“Waiting Room” The Seanton Jorden Story will tug at heartstrings and promises to be an unforgettable reading experience, tackling important topics, and telling a story of triumph over tragedy that will stay with audiences long after the final chapter is read.
S. Devon Jorden
S.Devon Jorden was born in Detroit Michigan, raised in Los Angeles, California, and currently resides in Conroe, Texas, about 40 miles north of Houston. Though he has been writing the majority of his adult life, his newfound passion and gift for writing was born out of his son’s tragic incident, where he pinned over 400 entries that garnered over 170,000 visits in an on-line journal called Caringbridge. Readers from around the world, from Alaska to Afghanistan, heralded his journals as their daily devotional, and still today follow his writings. Devon has served as a leader in several capacities in his professional career, as well as spiritually, previously serving on the ministerial team at Apostolic Tabernacle in Houston, Texas, overseeing the Sunday School Department as their Sunday School Superintendent and several other ministries. He also was involved in ChampKids, the Sunday School department at Church of Champions in Houston, Texas, overseeing children’s ministries and productions, and is currently part of the leadership team at his current church, BridgeChurch Woodlands. He also serves as the Vice-President of the Board of Directors for KHTB Theatrical Productions, Inc., a non-profit 501 (c)3 corporation that creates and directs multi-discipline projects consisting of Performing Arts and Music, with a purpose to use the arts to reveal natural creative skills within each individual facilitating discipline and self-esteem. His most important accomplishment, however, is his devotion and love toward his two children, Paris Jorden, age 25 and Seanton Jorden, age 29, and his beautiful wife of 31 years, Latrice Jorden.
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"Waiting Room" The Seanton Jorden Story - S. Devon Jorden
Copyright © 2024 S. Devon Jorden.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This book is a work of non-fiction. Unless otherwise noted, the author and the publisher make no explicit guarantees as to the accuracy of the information contained in this book and in some cases, names of people and places have been altered to protect their privacy.
WestBow Press
A Division of Thomas Nelson & Zondervan
1663 Liberty Drive
Bloomington, IN 47403
www.westbowpress.com
844-714-3454
Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.
Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.
Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.
Scripture quotations are taken from the Holy Bible, King James Version.
ISBN: 979-8-3850-1311-1 (sc)
ISBN: 979-8-3850-1312-8 (e)
Library of Congress Control Number: 2023922720
WestBow Press rev. date: 3/1/2024
Contents
Book Dedication
Chapter 1 The Vision
Chapter 2 The Birth
Chapter 3 Loud Baby Seanton
Chapter 4 Sings Before He Can Talk
Chapter 5 The Second Birth
Chapter 6 The First Testimony
Chapter 7 The Singing Ministry Begins
Chapter 8 Seanton Meets Brandon
Chapter 9 Candy on the Bus
Chapter 10 The Passions of Seanton
Chapter 11 A Rekindled Relationship
Chapter 12 The Teenage Seanton
Chapter 13 Could It Be Just a Phase?
Chapter 14 God Has Not Forgot!
Chapter 15 The Change-A Total Sellout to God
Chapter 16 The Change-Relationship with God Increases
Chapter 17 Seeking The Ultimate Sacrifice
Chapter 18 Brandon’s Salvation
Chapter 19 Encounter with an Unbeliever
Chapter 20 Freedom
Chapter 21 The Struggle
Chapter 22 Friends Hang Out
Chapter 23 The Day Before
Chapter 24 Friday, June 11, 2010
Chapter 25 Life in the Neuro ICU Waiting Room
Chapter 26 Neuro ICU Waiting Room Life-ICP Level Nightmare
Chapter 27 Neuro ICU Waiting Room Life-Bad News
Chapter 28 The Matt Segal Story
Chapter 29 Life at Nautica Specialty Hospital
Chapter 30 Visits from Local Friends for the First Time
Chapter 31 Brandon Visits Seanton
Chapter 32 The New Life at Home
Chapter 33 The New Life at Home-Home Nurse Chronicles
Chapter 34 The Letter
Chapter 35 A Meeting of Forgiveness
Chapter 36 The Turning Away
Chapter 37 Forgiveness
Chapter 38 After the Wait
Chapter 39 The Return
Chapter 40 Logan’s Story
Chapter 41 We Love You Seanton!
Chapter 42 The Reason for the Wait, and the Reason for the Test
Chapter 43 The End Is Not the End
Epilogue
Book Dedication
To the caregivers who give of themselves unselfishly for their loved ones, day in and day out, and usually in silence. You truly are superheroes.
To the traumatic brain injury survivors who have fought through and continue to fight through the toughest of challenges just to live a normal life in today’s society, and to those families who have lost loved ones due to traumatic brain injury. You help give me the strength to continue to educate those who don’t understand this devastating injury and to continue to bring awareness and help prevent TBIs from occurring to the best of my ability
To the accidental gunshot injury survivor who may be struggling through recovery and fighting through both the mental and physical toll that this may have caused in their life, and to those who have lost loved ones from something that could have been prevented. May your journey, along with this book, ignite the revival to change how and what society thinks about gun safety.
To Teresa and Gerald Bell, Kimberly Dillman, and Rochelle Bell, the gems behind KHTB Theatrical Productions, Inc., thank you for your willingness to help me take this vision and put it on paper for the world to see, and for supporting me through the process. Your years of sacrifice, hard work, and love for our family will never be forgotten.
To my mom, Jeanne C. who has been my steady rock and who has been by my side through it all, your unwavering love and support from birth to even now continue to amaze me. I love you forever and always.
To my dad, the late Bishop Fred L. Jorden Sr. and my Momma B, Barbara Jorden. Thank you for introducing me to the true and living Christ, which forever changed my life, and for being Godly examples of holiness and righteousness, leadership and discipleship, and everything in between. Dad, I know you are smiling down from Heaven, and are proud of your son.
To my daughter Paris and my beautiful wife Latrice, with whom I’ve traversed this Waiting Room
journey for the past 13 years. I am so grateful for God’s amazing grace and how He has kept us and strengthened us through the most difficult years of our lives, never letting us out of His loving arms, and unifying us to endure this trial.
To the reader who feels like you have lost all hope. Please know that during your most difficult times, trouble doesn’t last always. Weeping may endure for a night, but trust me, God does bring joy in the morning.
And lastly, to my son Seanton for being so sensitive to the Spirit of God, hearing His voice, and being the world changer you were and still are. I love you from the bottom of my heart. This book wouldn’t have been possible without you, and it is your fighting spirit to this day that keeps me moving forward and keeps me knowing that, SOMETHING BIG
IS GOING TO HAPPEN SOON!
Youth Revival at a Local Church in Houston, Texas
A young minister preached with passion and fervor, his words ringing out over the congregation. His message penetrated deep into their hearts. The spirit of God was palpable in the atmosphere as people felt a profound connection to God’s divine presence. The music seemed to be coming straight from Heaven itself, with a beat that we old-school saints call shouting music.
The atmosphere was electric and the Spirit of God continued to take over the service. The young minister passed the microphone to another young minister. He too preached hard and then passed the microphone back to the first young preacher, who concluded his message. He then called for those who were sick in their body with any disease, pain, or ailment to come to the front of the church. As hundreds of young people flocked to the front, some running, some limping, and some with canes, these two amazing young men of God began to lay their hands on all who were in need of the Holy Spirit’s healing. Many fell out and hit the floor instantly, some began to leap, and others began to cry uncontrollably due to their bodies being healed. Sitting near the front of the church watching this I was amazed and blown away by what I was witnessing. I turned and looked at the many people in the congregation and almost everyone I saw had tears falling from their eyes like raindrops from a cloud-soaked sky as they witnessed God’s miraculous healing power. At this moment, all I could do was release tears of joy as my hands reached toward Heaven.
CHAPTER 1
The Vision
It was October of 1989, and I had just turned 19 the month before. At this time in my life living for God was a lifestyle. I yearned to always be involved in something related to the church and on this cool fall evening, I was excited about going to our church’s weekly prayer meeting at Sister Shannon’s house. I know it sounds unusual for a 19-year-old college student, but living for Christ, this was always the highlight of my week. I knew I was going to meet God there and my relationship with Him deepened every time I stepped into this meeting. This powerful time in prayer always resulted in God’s overwhelming peace sweeping over me. Yes, it was just that good! I would either get a ride with my buddy Keith or I would drive myself to the prayer house,
which was on the east side of Austin, roughly 20-30 minutes away from where I lived. There would usually be about 12 other members of True Vine Apostolic Church who would meet there regularly once a week. Desiring a wife and helpmate, I had been fasting and praying the entire week for God’s direction and wisdom. I had a particular woman in mind, however, I wanted confirmation from God that she would be a forever type of love and a Proverbs 31 woman. So on this particular night, my spiritual antennae was raised and I was expecting something extraordinary to happen. I arrived at 7:30 p.m. and once everyone settled in, we began with our regular song service, which usually consisted of one or two songs. Then we would read a few Bible verses, usually whatever was on someone’s heart that particular evening. Following singing and scripture, the floor would be open for any specific prayer requests. Many had shared their individual requests, and then it was my turn.
Bro. Devon, do you have a prayer request tonight?
asked Sister Shannon.
Not wanting to tell the group what I truly had been praying for, I kept my comments as general as possible so as not to give too much away.
So I shared with the group. Yes, uh, just pray that I continue to be a witness to those at my school. There are some interesting folks down there at Western Texas State, so I need your prayers for that, and let’s see….I’ve also been praying for God to bless me with another year of financial aid to pay for my classes next year, so pray that God will open up a door for that too. Also pray for my mom, my brother, and all of my loved ones to be saved.
Yes! Yes! We will touch and agree tonight on those requests,
said Sister Shannon. I saw your mother and brother at church last Sunday. You have such a beautiful family and that little brother of yours is so cute!
Everyone loved seeing my mom and brother come to church. They were always welcomed with open arms and treated like royalty every time.
Now that all of the prayer requests were heard, it was time to pray. Everyone stood up and held hands and prayed together. After community prayer was individual prayer. We all found a spot to pray alone, either on the floor, in a corner, or in a chair. I particularly liked a certain corner of the living room to pray. For whatever reason, this was my corner and prayer closet and the spot where I seemed to always hear from God and feel His presence in a special way. After about 15 minutes, Sister Patty, who was a mighty prayer warrior and also Sister Shannon’s biological sister, tapped me on my shoulder and asked if she could pray for me. She said that she felt God leading her to ask me. I agreed and stood to my feet. She laid her hands on my forehead and as soon as she did, I felt a tingle from her hand that moved from my forehead to my arms, to my torso, down to my legs, and then to my feet. It was a moment filled with awe and reverence; I knew what I was experiencing could only be a true touch from God. I fell to the floor shedding uncontrollable tears and praying under the power and mighty presence of God.
I then saw a vision of a large picture frame. The frame was in the distance and I could see that there was a light-skinned Black woman in the picture, a young boy, and an even younger girl. I couldn’t make out who the woman, boy, and girl were, but I wondered if this was maybe a picture of my future family. The picture seemed to get closer and closer and started becoming clearer and then it went away. Then I saw a vision of a young man preaching to hundreds of thousands in an open arena. There were people as far as I could see who were worshiping and praising God. Suddenly, I heard an audible but divine voice whisper, Devon, preach my word, my son. Preach my word.
The voice again whispered, Devon, preach my word, my son. Preach my word.
At first, I thought one of the brothers at the prayer meeting was the voice speaking and whispering to me as I was lying on the floor. When I immediately opened my eyes, there was no one there and everyone was still in their individual corners praying. My heart began to race as fear gripped me. Was that the voice of God? Was that my future family in the vision? Was that me or my son preaching in the vision? I sat up in a nearby chair and remained in a posture of prayer but was actually trying to make sense of the events that had transpired. By this time my mind was far from focusing on prayer and I was in shock by what I just experienced. Sitting there with my eyes closed and my body filled with chills, I remained still, overwhelmed, and anxious as I waited for the prayer meeting to end.
newcoverimage.jpgCHAPTER 2
The Birth
Three years later, I found myself standing at the altar with the woman I had seen in my vision and had been praying and fasting for. In September of 1986 in Lockhart, Texas, in a small country church, God aligned me with my Proverbs 31 woman and forever love Latrice McDonald. This small-town girl born in Smithville, Texas, had the cutest and deepest dimples I had ever seen and her beauty outside was a reflection of her inner self.
Latrice and I met at church and the first time I laid eyes on her I just knew she was going to be my wife. What was wild was that the feeling I had about Latrice was mutual. The first time she saw me from the choir stand in that small, crowded country church she knew I would be her husband. We both knew we were meant for each other. The story of how we met is truly remarkable.
During our first year of marriage in 1992 Latrice had become pregnant, but we lost that child 3 ½ months into the pregnancy. The months that followed were a very challenging season for us. We thought that healing was impossible, but through that journey of grief, we held on tight to our faith and each other. After experiencing the pain of losing that pregnancy, we didn’t even consider trying again but God had other plans.
By His grace, six months later, Latrice became pregnant with Seanton. It felt like she had been pregnant for years and her pregnancy seemed to linger on forever. As she drew closer to the due date, my patience was wearing thin. With the previous loss, there were so many emotions. I was excited that I was having a son, but also anxious. Latrice had become very uncomfortable in this final trimester, and also uncomfortable to be around. No book can prepare you for the emotions of a pregnant wife, especially when there are unexpected complications. During that difficult time, she was a far cry from that sweet country girl I met and I had to stand strong on the first part of 1 Corinthians 13:4, telling us that love is patient and kind. Any father or father-to-be reading this, I’m sure can relate. One day I teased Latrice and told her that if Seanton didn’t hurry up and get here, I was going to move in with my mother until the delivery date. We laugh about it now.
Seanton was supposed to be due on my birthday, September 10th, however, on the morning of September 5th, Latrice felt some pains that made her believe this was it. That morning, with high anticipation, we rushed to the hospital. We thought it was really going to happen that day, but to our dismay, Seanton was just not ready to join us and instead wanted to enjoy the comfy confines of his mother’s belly. "Walk as much as you can,’’ was the order given by Latrice’s doctor. So that’s just what she did and with me right by her side. We walked around the outlet mall in San Marcos, Texas, and there were family members who lived in the area, so we walked and paid them a visit. We walked and walked, and walked until we could walk no more. It seemed like all of the walking paid off because a few hours after being at home, Latrice was certain it was time. Seanton was ready to arrive! Latrice’s bags were packed days before, and still waiting patiently in the corner of the living room from our last visit to the hospital, ready to be carried to their destination. I quickly gathered the bags as we rushed out the door to the hospital.
Once we arrived at the hospital, the staff made Latrice comfortable, and we were filled with anticipation and excitement, and confident that very soon we would be holding our firstborn. However, Seanton had other plans. For whatever reason, he wasn’t ready to make his grand entrance into the world.
I was at peace hearing the doctor say, She’s at five centimeters, so it shouldn’t be much longer now.
But as the minutes ticked by without any sign of our son, I grew more and more anxious. Time seemed to stand still as the minutes turned to hours without any sign that Latrice was ready to deliver. After hours of waiting and the clock ticking closer to midnight, the anxiety turned to worry and then fear as I still had no son in my arms.
For the third time, I pushed the call button to alert the doctor that I was extremely eager (as well as irritated) to know what was going on. By this point, Latrice’s labor pains were coming quite frequently. During the labor pain, poor Latrice would grab onto whatever was near, breathing heavily to bear through the minute-long pain. The nurse had given her medication to help ease the pain, and after each episode of labor, she would fall asleep. But the medication’s relief was only temporary. When the medication wore off, she woke up disoriented by severe pain.
Latrice’s sister Myra or Aunt Granny
as she preferred to be called by her nephew-to-be, had come to help Latrice with the delivery and vowed to stay until Seanton was born. Myrna made the mistake of standing a little too close to Latrice during one of the labor pain episodes and her shirt’s buttons were ripped off. Myrna was not happy as you can imagine. I had seen on TV that a mother in labor could almost crush her husband’s hands during labor pains and I didn’t think it was true. After witnessing the sub-human strength Latrice possessed during this pain, I was so glad Myrna had come to help. I like my hands.
Why is she not progressing with her dilation?
I asked the doctor in a slightly raised voice. My earlier patient expression was now giving way to a look of irritation. I know this is frustrating Mr. Jorden, but sometimes things like this happen and there isn’t much we can do but just wait. However, if it goes on much longer, we may opt to do an emergency C-section,
he said.
That was not what I wanted to hear but there was nothing I could do but continue to wait. Another hour passed and still no Seanton. Latrice had dilated to seven centimeters now but in order for Seanton to be born Latrice had to be at least ten centimeters. Latrice seemed to be in even more pain now. She was sweating, delirious, and suffering so much and there was nothing I could do about it.
I felt my heart racing and my temper boiling. I couldn’t take it anymore, and yelled, Those doctors have no clue what they are doing! Here we are eight hours into this and still no Seanton! Sitting in this hospital room watching this is killing me!
My words were sharp and full of emotion.
Along with Myrna, my mother had come to help as well. After my mini rant, she said, Calm down Devon. It’ll be okay son.
I’m sure it was a surprising sight for her to see me like this. All of my life I have been very mild-mannered and a person of reason with a positive attitude, but tonight was different. I was under intense pressure, and feeling powerless.
Let’s go outside for a little bit. I think the fresh air will help you,
she said. We went to the outside parking lot and just walked, circling the parking lot several times. Then my mom started to hand me one of her cigarettes and asked me, Do you want one? It might help calm you down.
She knew I would never smoke. We both just stared at each other for a few seconds and started laughing. That lightened things up a little.
Seeing Latrice suffer was really starting to take its toll on me. The walk was what I needed, and a good idea. Loving moms always know what their children need, no matter how old they are. I expressed to her my gratitude and while we walked back into the hospital, she expressed with a little humor, I knew this would help you. That’s why you ought to listen to me sometimes. You know momma always knows, right?
As we entered Latrice’s room, I knew it was God’s perfect timing. Lo and behold, we saw the nurses and doctors cheering Latrice on saying, Push! Push! You are almost there!
At that moment, I could only thank God. If I had stayed in the parking lot a minute longer, I might have missed this moment that I had been excited for.
As I took my place next to Latrice and grabbed her hand, my heart immediately began to race. I could feel each beat thumping through my chest cavity, as the exhilaration of knowing that finally, my son was going to be born. The wait was over, and becoming a father was becoming a reality right before my eyes. With all that we had been through, the enemy was trying to fill my thoughts with all that could go wrong during the delivery. But I began to pray silently to myself, and after Latrice fought through a few more minutes of pain and pushing, Seanton was born.
I’ll be honest, looking at this sweet baby boy made me light-headed and I thought I was going to faint. After Seanton’s umbilical cord was cut, the doctor held him up for all of us to see. Seanton was very quiet. His eyes were wide open and he began looking around the room, holding his head up on his own. We all, including the doctor, stared in amazement at seeing a newborn do this. I must say that I don’t ever recall seeing a newborn do that,
the doctor said.
Still in awe, I said, Wow! Look at him! He is just looking around the room.
I had mixed emotions of amazement, joy, shock, and peace. Latrice was delirious, weak, and a little loopy from the medication. Aww he looks like Barney,
she said, as he was a color of purple right out of Latrice’s womb. We all just started laughing and I kissed her on the forehead.
Though she was aware and relieved that Seanton was here, the next words out of her mouth were, Uh, now can I have a Dr. Pepper?
After that announcement, she dozed off, tired, and still medicated. Seeing her vulnerable and weak, I wished there was something I could do after she gifted me with the greatest gift a husband could desire. I was glad that her suffering was over.
Walking this pregnancy and birthing journey with Latrice, I was truly happy that I was born a man and would never, ever, ever have to experience giving birth! It made me appreciate Latrice so much more. God bless women!
The nurse cleaned Seanton up and gently placed him on Latrice’s chest. She didn’t even know he was there due to her being out of it. We all stood around the room in amazement at what we had just witnessed and was grateful that Seanton made it safe into his new world.
newcoverimage.jpgCHAPTER 3
Loud Baby Seanton
Seanton, at the tender age of nine months old, was a very loud baby. He was nothing like he first appeared to be on September 6th in the little hospital room on the third floor of Texas Medical Center. He also, for whatever reason, could not figure out how to sleep through the night and woke up around 2:00 a.m. every morning, screaming at the top of his lungs. Night in and night out, like countless other new parents, we would suffer from lack of sleep. I loved my son, but I was challenged at this stage of parenting. I did everything I could to drown out his very strong vocal chords. I covered my face with a pillow, but that didn’t work. I closed the bedroom door, but that didn’t work. I even used earplugs that prevent eardrum damage from my job with the San Marcos Parks & Recreation Department, but that didn’t work. Nothing worked!
There were actually nights when I would cry along with him because I would be so frustrated. I quickly learned that parenting takes much patience. Many nights Latrice would get up to go check on him and the only way he would stop crying was if she picked him up and brought him back to bed with us. Even as a baby, Seanton was pretty smart. He figured out that when he woke up, if he yelled and screamed then his mom would come every time to rescue him and take him to the big comfortable bed. This had to be the case because as soon as Seanton hit our bed, he went right to sleep. After nine months of this, this ritual was getting old and had to come to a stop. I had lovingly but desperately hinted to Latrice that one of these nights we were just going to have to let Seanton cry himself back to sleep. It would be the only way we could break this burdensome cycle.
Being a first-time mom, Latrice’s immediate response was, Oh no! We’re not going to let my baby cry himself back to sleep!
I would plead the case, but then would eventually give in as well and agree. However, on one particular night, I was at my limit and had enough. This was the night I was going to put my foot down. There was no way I was going to let Latrice walk into Seanton’s room and bring him back to our bed. No matter how long it took, whether days or weeks, we were going to let Seanton cry until he was worn out and surrendered to the fact that he would have to sleep in his own crib.
Well, the night came and Latrice and I both went to bed just like any other night at around 11:00 p.m. Seanton had drunk his regular 4-ounce bottle of formula and he was out, comfy, and cozy in his crib and room. Then, like clockwork, at 2:00 a.m. on the dot, there he went. For a minute I thought maybe his hysterical crying was because of a bad dream. But then the crying got louder, and I was snapped back into reality. It wasn’t a bad dream, but a behavior that had to be broken. Latrice and I both woke up and laid in the bed for about ten minutes or so, just hoping it would stop. But it didn’t, and Latrice made her motherly move to go rescue Seanton.
Don’t do it Trice! Don’t do it! We’ve got to break him of this and you know the only way we can do it is to let him cry,
I begged. What if something is really wrong with him?
she replied. I can’t do it, Devon.
I gave my counter-argument, and explained, I guarantee you nothing is wrong with him Trice. That boy is playing us. He knows the louder he cries, you’ll give in and pick him up.
I wondered if I could be wrong. Maybe he wasn’t feeling well. Maybe he was stuck in his blanket. Maybe he was choking on his formula. We came to a compromise and agreed to walk to his door and just peek in to confirm that he was okay. As I first suspected, there was nothing wrong. He was just screaming at the top of his lungs. I put myself in Latrices’s place trying to understand her side as a mother. Though it was uncomfortable to see him in so much distress, the father in me did not want to give in. The fatherly side won and I tiptoed my way back to my bedroom.
Well, is he ok?
asked Latrice. Yeah, he’s fine, just like I thought,
I said. How could you not pick him up?
Latrice said as her eyes started to tear up. My poor baby.
Now there was no way I was going to tell her I almost gave in because that was all it would take for her to run into the room and grab her baby boy. I was determined that we had to do this, and this would stop tonight. After Latrice let out a loud Ugh,
we prepared for the long night ahead of us.
Two hours had passed and Seanton was still crying, non-stop. My goodness! I couldn’t believe he was still crying and so loud. With those lungs, I thought he would be a singer, preacher, or maybe both. I actually respected him for trying to hold his ground and found a little humor in the situation.
At 4:00 a.m. he was still going strong, but then all of a sudden, there was a silence. Could it be that Seanton finally cried himself to sleep? Thinking that I might just be hallucinating at this point, I found some strength to get up out of bed and walked as quietly as I could into Seanton’s bedroom. Yes! We did it!
He was fast asleep, holding tightly to his tear-soaked stuffed animal and friend Calvin the Cat. I hurriedly and proudly walked back into our bedroom and grabbed Latrice’s hand to get out of bed and follow me. When she saw Seanton and Calvin peacefully sleeping, she teared up. They were tears of joy knowing that her baby boy would finally sleep through the night, but also tears of sadness thinking about how long he must have suffered to come to this place to get a peaceful night’s sleep.
In relief, Latrice whispered, That was difficult Devon but I think we are on the right path now.
I agreed and for the first time in a long time, mom, dad, and son started to get a good night’s sleep.
CHAPTER 4
Sings Before He Can Talk
The year is 1995 and Seanton is almost two years old. He was a skinny baby who barely fit his baggy diaper, which seemed to always be too big on his little rear. There were times though, like every toddler, when Seanton would throw the typical tantrum when he couldn’t get his way. Overall, he was a happy baby who loved to laugh and smile and seemed to always be in a great mood. We were proud and blessed parents.
It’s so interesting how kids develop a fascination for something at a young age and we discovered Seanton had a deep interest in insects. Seeing anyone step on a bug would cause him so much distress. Latrice and I learned not to step on a bug or any type of insect in front of him. While some may see this as strange, we saw something special in him. Even as a small child, he showed compassion toward every creature, even the ones with more than two legs.
When he wasn’t distraught about the death of innocent insects, Seanton was most happy when he was watching Barney. Seanton loved Barney. When his purple pal would pop up on the TV screen, Seanton would jump up and start dancing to the lyrics of the famous theme song, I love you. You love me. We’re a happy family…
One day, while we were waiting for Barney to come on, I put him on the floor to play with his blocks. As I sat and played with him, I heard something amazing that blew my mind. Seanton wasn’t just talking the words as you would expect a child to do but he was actually singing Barney’s song in a vibrato voice! Even though he couldn’t quite say all the words correctly, that didn’t matter because what I was hearing was astonishing!
I called Latrice to come into the living room because she had to hear this for herself. Listen to this boy,
I said. He is actually singing the Barney song! I mean, he is really singing! How in the world can he sing before he can even really talk? Have you been showing him how to do that, like how to do those little runs?
We were both excited about this new discovery, but not really surprised as Latrice herself was an amazing singer. Her voice is angelic, crystal clear, and incredibly smooth. I’ll never forget the first time I heard her sing. We were both visiting our youth leader’s home as teenagers and just hanging out and having a good time as we would do sometimes on the weekend. There was always lots of food, laughter, and fun, and ever so often, there would be Bible study or prayer time. These were great times, especially as a new Christian.
It was always exciting to know that Latrice would be there as I thought she was the most incredible girl. She had it all to me. Latrice was (and still is) beautiful, intelligent, and as meek and humble as she could be. With a strong love for Christ added to all of her other qualities, she was everything I could ever want in a future wife.
Just when I thought I knew everything about Latrice, I didn’t know, however, that she could sing. She and some of the other teenage girls were in the kitchen on this one particular night as I was with the fellas