Charlotte June Kinnear was only twelve years old when the Lord decided it was time to call her home.

She was a light. Her smile and vibrant personality could brighten any room. She wanted to make the world a better place, and that desire was fueled by the biggest, most loving heart. Above all else, Charlotte was fearless.

October 24 was just like any other day, with a little extra excitement in the air. Her gymnastics class was having a Halloween celebration after school, and Halloween was Charlotte's favorite holiday—mostly because of the candy, but who could blame her?

When I dropped her off at school that morning, we shared our usual goodbye: "I love you. I hope you have a good day." I had no way of knowing those would be the last words I would ever hear from my sweet girl.

I was at work when I received the call that changed our lives forever.

"Charlotte has collapsed at gymnastics."

She had suffered sudden cardiac arrest.

I was an hour away. The drive felt like an eternity.

Because of the severity of her condition, Charlotte was airlifted to Wolfson Children's Hospital in Jacksonville. The only thing that brought me a measure of peace in those terrifying moments was knowing her father would be there waiting when she arrived.

When I finally reached the hospital, the medical team was performing CPR. Eventually, they turned to us and said they would have to stop.

There was no pulse.

Then, in that moment of complete darkness, I heard God speak to me for the first time in my life.

"In God, all things are possible."

As soon as I spoke those words, Charlotte had a pulse.

No one could believe it.

We began preparing for what we thought would be a long road to recovery, holding tightly to cautious hope. But that hope was short-lived. Hours later, Charlotte began to seize. The life-saving treatments and medications we had prayed would save her became too much for her small body to bear.

We later learned that Charlotte died from a rare genetic heart condition called Arrhythmogenic Right Ventricular Dysplasia (ARVD). It is a disease that often remains silent, shows no symptoms, and is common among young people and athletes.

If there is one piece of advice I can offer, it is this:

Treasure every second, every minute, and every day with your children. Even when life feels overwhelming and you're convinced you're too busy, choose your family. There will always be another errand to run or another phone call to make, but you only get one chance to be present with your children.

Love them fiercely. Hold them tightly. Tell them you love them.

You never know when it may be the last time you have the chance.