He sat there absorbed in his video game and me in my book and as the hours ticked by I could see he was holding his breath more often, afraid to breathe but trying to ignore the silence of the phone. No news is good news, right?
Finally, we laid down and slept for a few hours -smack in the afternoon and into the early evening, and his breathing relaxed, his stress slipped away as I watched him before dozing off myself.
When the phone rang it’s awful ringtone he shot out of bed like a cat, straight into the air and answered it quickly.
He held his breath when it was his dad and not his mom who said she would call when her surgery was over.
When his dad passed the phone to his mom the audible sigh of relief that escaped his body caused tears to roll down my cheeks, quickly swiped away by the blanket.
She was okay. He was okay. I was okay. We could breathe knowing his mama survived the surgery.
The holding your breath and doing your best to focus on the good and handing it to God thing seemed to be working through the day, it was a nice day, but lingering in the back of our minds was a part of our souls that just needed the know what God’s plan for us that day actually was.
Breathing out the negative and breathing in the relief felt fresh, new, amazing.
Suddenly we both wanted to eat and found ourselves thirsty, realizing we hadn’t done either all day as we did our best to stir our minds from the what-ifs.
It was only 2 days before that I was the strong one, standing on the stairs into the night speaking to his mama about her faith and her journey through the church, through life, and her telling me that I was reminding her to just trust God.
Why is it so much easier to say than do? Preach but not be preached to?
I hold my hands in reverence to the One who is in control of it all, whose plans I will never know until I am walking through them. To Him I give praise, because praise is deserved even in the darkest of days. Gratitude in the middle of chaos. He triumphs as I stumble. Picks me up when I fall. When the air is knocked from my soul, He breathes life back into me. CPR for the soul. The Bible my personal First Aid Kit!
I go through the motions of the day like everyone else does while worrying about the everyday things like money and bills overdue and how I am going to find a way to pay them and then I place it all into God’s hands and do my best to continue, trusting that He has provisions for me and He will meet all my needs.
I am reminded of the Israelites wandering for forty years, given manna everyday and told never to take more than they need, or save any for later. Trust that the Lord will provide the next meal too.
A family that vlogs on YouTube who I began to follow over a year ago, because of a cleaning motivational video posted a life update today. The mom, Christy, was very upset as she sat in the car talking about her faith and her family and how their oldest son, 22 years old, passed away this week and that they have had to humble themselves before the Lord during this extremely difficult time, by having to start up a GoFundMe page just so they can pay for the funeral for their child that will be held this weekend.
And tears fall from my own eyes as I see how upset she is, how she knows to trust God but her heart is broken either way, how I have watched her shop thrift stores to care for her large family, how she has purposed to be more modest, shared her raw testimony and allows us in to her hectic homeschool life while working full time and still struggling to make ends meet.
My own anxieties and problems with money suddenly become trivial. Who cares about the credit card debt from years ago, at least I am not burying my child. My family is healthy. That could all change tonight or tomorrow or when the phone rings, but right now everyone is good and that is a blessing. That is todays manna. The sustenance that will sustain me, even if creditors are calling and threatening to ruin me, I cannot be ruined because Christ has me and he has my family and if/when something does happen, He will still stand firm and still give me exactly what I need as I need it.
Will Christy’s son be buried and have a lovely service? Yes! And, because of people who realize the need of this family who have put away a little bit here and there, Christy and her husband Jimmy SR will not have to worry about debt when they are mourning and looking for ways to be grateful and intentional.
We put so much value on “things” and “stuff” that when there is a tragedy like a young man, a child, passing away, our own lives are put into perspective and we strive to be more intentional and make the moments count. I don’t think anyone has ever lost someone and said they spent too much time with the person or have too many memories, rather people lose and then they feel guilt that they should have could have would have done more if only they knew.
In life, we rarely get to know any of these things ahead of time, but one thing is for certain, we are all on the same paths, regardless of time, and that is physical death. Our souls will rise and God will embrace. So, why don’t we live everyday like it is our last without having to be told we are dying?
My One Word for the year was “Intentional” and unfortunately it took someone passing away at a young age for my heart to shift to a place that reminds me to be more intentional with my children and family, and the ones I love.
God is absolutely amazing in allowing the negatives of our own lives, and the lives of others, to remind us of His Word and to live life to the fullest.
I ask that you pray for the Overlin family this coming week as they figure out what normal is as children of God and as parents to a son gone too soon. Placing their faith in Christ and knowing that their oldest boy is now sitting with the One Creator.
Live intentionally dear friends!
I have been disconnected feeling for so many years, from myself, from others, and worst of all, from God. And, when I have had the opportunity to connect I have pulled away, recoiled like a snake stepped on whose only reflex is to tangle up on itself.
I have purposed this year with my OneWord365 to be “intentional”. How that is going to play out, I don’t know. But, I am excited to be intentional with my children, my parents, my boyfriend, and of course my relationship with Christ -my God.
The desire to connect to myself and to others, especially the One who created me, has overridden the desire to pull into myself and hide from the world the way I used to. I want to, no I need to, live life in the love that was ordained by Christ Himself when He spoke to us saying “And a new commandment I give to you, that you love one another as I have loved you…” He didn’t add in an “if, and, or, but, unless” etc to the command, so I am going to live with the intent to connect through Christ, to connect in love and to work at connecting with my soul and strive to reach my potential.
I love connecting with each of you every week as we flash-mob write. As we tweet about sports and justice and chocolate and ask for prayers. Connecting through our own words and the Word of God, the words in the books of our dear friends as they follow where they are to be lead.
I am excited to see who will join us this year and who I will connect with and what we will connect over, maybe a favorite dish, children the same age, mentors or a friendship that makes no sense to the naked eye but simply feels natural and right.
With remarkable compassion born from personal experience, Kelly Balarie shows women how to
· Cultivate unstoppable faith by harnessing God’s Word and promptings
· Pray panic-, blood pressure- and stress-reducing prayers to usher in lasting peace
· Discover clear and immediate action plans to exchange worry for God’s greatest gifts
· Implement daily bravery decrees to stand armed through the day
· Participate in a 12-week study guide to foster new courageous habits
Kelly pulls back the curtain of fear so you can find the beautiful woman God created you to be.
Growing up my cousins were our neighbours on two sides. We played and shared and went frog hunting and tadpole catching in the ponds on our property. We ice skated with neighbour kids in winter and then one spring when I was 9 the police came and searched and searched some more for my older cousin who went missing.
They found his body 3 days later at the bottom of the highest cliff about a kilometer into our backyards, across the highway. They said that he had no stomach contents and that he had likely only been dead a few hours.
The official cause of death was suicide, the unofficial was blunt force trauma to his skull, presumably as he fell. How a 17 year old goes without food or water when a corner store and unlocked houses are within shouting distance, for several days never sat well with me. It didn’t sit well with the retired police chief who offered to look into it as a homicide and it didn’t sit well with my grandpa either.
My aunt and uncle didn’t want the help though, so the ruling was as is and the priest denied my cousin his last rites, because you can’t receive more than a blessing if you have taken your own life.
I tended his grave for years, going and wiping the fresh cut grass from the stone and making sure the solar light I bought was still lighting at night, the shepherds hook it hung on something I knew would help guide him to the Light and keep him there.
I don’t believe that suicide is a sin. I know a lot of people do, including the church. I have faith in a God who does not punish those who are mentally ill, and if you have ever been depressed or suicidal you know that there is no such thing as “rational” when in that state of mind. The act of suicide isn’t to cause pain, it’s a final and desperate attempt to end your own.
Whether suicide or homicide I have prayed that as my cousin flew to the ground below that he felt no fear, only peace and maybe even a moment of joy knowing that this act was the pathway to freedom from what we call life.
I stare up at the sun and realize that today is yesterday on the other side of the world, and yet there are times in the day where we can both gaze up at the same stars, moon and feel the heat from the very same sun.
Then, I realize how vast the universe is and how little I am within it.
How I am barely a speck of a speck and yet God counts every single hair on my head. That blows me away! He knows every star in the sky, every soul that has walked this earth or ever will, every hair on every head, and each of mine are just as BIG to Him as my brothers and sisters created by Him who stand firmly in His Holy Name!!!
Funny how over the years the words “Post-It” have caused flashes of ugly little squares of paper with a sticky back to flood the brain. Then you go to buy the darned things and see the cute owls and the off brands and you literally stand there wasting time debating price, color and cuteness all for a note that likely won’t stick.
A reminder that will be lost before it’s been forgotten.
I look through my Bible tabbed with Post-It’s the same way that my daughter has her textbooks tabbed. Interesting how something that I had only began doing that she didn’t know about is something I had spotted her doing the same. I wonder if this is normal or if its some form of inherited colour-coding mother-daughter neurotic trait. Lord knows our lives closely mimic each other without intention.
I guess it doesn’t matter too much though if we aren’t purposely trying to be like the other.
I don’t want her to be a yellow or pink or acid green Post-It note that everyone has or can achieve. I want her to be unique. Her own shade with her own tackiness.
I want her to make her own mistakes and be victorious over Satan slain. Even if each of us must crush that cursed serpents slithering head with the heel of boots of steel made for hard work again and again.