There is nothing that prepares you for the moment you realize you cannot fix what is hurting your child.

We have spent countless nights sitting beside our son’s bed, watching him sleep—or trying to—praying he would just breathe easy. Praying we wouldn’t find him struggling. Praying for answers we didn’t have yet.

Our son was born with cystic fibrosis. We just didn’t know it.

For three and a half years, we carried the weight of knowing something was wrong, but not knowing what.

We searched everywhere. We trusted doctors. We kept going back, kept asking questions, kept advocating—because as parents, you just know when something isn’t right.

And we knew.

But instead of answers, John went through surgery after surgery, test after test, while his little body fought so hard every single day.

By the time we finally heard the words “cystic fibrosis,” so much had already been taken from him.

He has lost nearly all of his hearing. He has had to fight to learn how to speak, how to communicate, how to simply keep up. Things that come so naturally to other children—he has had to work for every single day.

And yet… if you really see John, you don’t just see what he’s been through.

You see his light.

You see the way his face lights up when The Wiggles come on—how he knows every song, every dance. In those moments, he isn’t a child with a diagnosis… he’s just a happy little boy.

You see his excitement for Clemson Tigers football—how much he loves cheering them on. We hold onto this hope in our hearts… that one day we can take him to a game without fear. That one day, we won’t have to worry about every cough, every crowd, every exposure.

You see the simple things he loves—pizza, chicken nuggets, animals, building with magnatiles, playing like any other little boy should.

Because that’s what he is.

He is just a child.

A child who deserves a full, beautiful, carefree life—despite everything he has endured.

John is surrounded by so much love. He has the most incredible support system—a father who stands beside him through everything, a baby brother who loves him in the purest, sweetest way, five amazing aunts, one uncle, two cousins, four grandparents, and three great-grandparents who cover him in endless love.

But even with all of that love… there have been moments where we have felt completely helpless.

And in those moments, we have leaned on our faith.

Because when we had nothing else, we had this:

The Lord will provide.

And He always has.

He has carried us through fear.
He has given us strength when we didn’t think we had any left.
He has reminded us, over and over again, that John’s story is not finished.

That’s why we walk.

We walk in the Great Strides for the Cystic Fibrosis Foundation, because no other family should have to sit in the unknown for years. No child should have to fight this hard just to be heard, to be diagnosed, to be cared for.

We walk for answers.
We walk for better treatments.
We walk for a cure.

But more than anything…

We walk for our son.

For the nights we held our breath, hoping he would take his next one.
For the voice he is still learning to find.
For the life he deserves to live freely, joyfully, and without fear.

He is strong.
He is joyful.
He is everything to us.

And we will never stop fighting for him.

If you feel it on your heart to support John, to walk with us, or to give—please know you are part of his story. You are part of the hope we hold onto every single day.

And through it all, we continue to believe what has carried us from the very beginning:

The Lord will provide.