I’m sitting at my sticky dining room table, listening to some kind of music I don’t particular like but I’m not listening for the musical integrity, it’s playing for one reason and one reason only.
Drowning out James’ cries.
Tonight was a hard one with the kids. I was thriving, making things fun, problem solving, praying in the hard moments, gripping for peace when the chaos was all around, laughing at dinnertime. In cleaning up, I found some notes that talked about staying hungry — aka focused on your goals. Writing daily is one of my goals. A goal I’ve done a pretty crappy job accomplishing, lately.
BUT tonight was the night.
Lukas is out of town. I had the house to myself (well, I WOULD have the house to myself, once my precious children fell asleep).
I just told Alexa to skip songs because the cries were breaking through the slow motion melody. And I skipped another, and another and another.
“Alexa, play modern gospel.”
“I’ll never be more loved than I am right now
Wasn’t holding You up
So there’s nothing I can do to let You down…”
Here come the tears.
And then I stood to my feet.
Arms raised as Jirah sang over me.
“Going through a storm but I won’t go down
I hear Your voice
Carried in the rhythm of the wind to call me out
You would cross an ocean so I wouldn’t drown
You’ve never been closer than You are right now”
The plan was to write, to finish one of the 30 drafts sitting in my blog draft folder. I missed today’s weekly post. It just didn’t happen. I was going to catch up. I was excited about catching up.
And now my heart is focused back on the music…
“Move the unmovable
Break the unbreakable
God we believe
God we believe for it”
“From the impossible, we’ll see a miracle…”
Both kids were sick all weekend. We were knighted during our first “two kids having fevers at the same time” battle and it was brutal, but we made it. Tabby still hasn’t caught up on sleep from her body fighting the sickness and she was exhausted tonight. Everything was pulling teeth with her… actually, now that I think about, her teeth didn’t get brushed before bed…whoops!
I didn’t like that last song so told Alexa to turn it all off, fully expecting to hear screams, from either bed occupied by tiny humans, and yet, it’s quiet. Well, as quiet as it’ll ever be living so close to the city with our train whistles and airplane landings and tonight’s daily summer thunderstorm lurking about. I want to go check on the tiny humans, are they still breathing? **Deep breath** Yes, they are still breathing, they are okay, we are okay, it’s all going to be okay.
There are things in my life I’m not ready to talk about publicly, stuff God is stirring and moving around in this heart of mine. Don’t worry, we’re okay. Shockingly okay. When I prayed the prayer, a decade ago, asking God to be with me as I change my life because I wasn’t happy with it’s trajectory, I never dreamed I’d actually make it, to a life I’m so happy and content to be living.
And yet, even in “shockingly okay” and “content” and “happy”, life, there is doubt, fear, worry, concern, loneliness, etc.
Another prayer I prayed a few weeks before the “let’s change my life” prayer, during a wilderness season through body aching sadness, I crawled myself to the floor of my closet and wept. I hurt, everywhere, all over, and a song lyric came quickly to my heart… “take me deeper than my feet could ever wander…” I was in deep waters, my feet were on no kind of solid ground, and I hungered for more, hungered for deeper, hungered for value and meaning and worth out of life.
I’ve never been one to play things safe in the shallow end. Actually, when it comes to a real pool, I hate the deep end and VERY much like the shallow end but for this hypothetical analogy, let’s role with the truth I’ve always been one to take chances, risks, and figure it out as I go. The deep calls to me, not because it’s where I’m comfortable, but because it’s where I’m not. I know the One who calls me into deep waters has never left or forsaken me and I know He never will.
Since that sacred afternoon in my Auburn closet (the same one I sat in to wait out several tornado warnings!), my heart cry has been for the Lord to lead my into the deep waters. I don’t want my feet to touch. I don’t want shallow. I want deep.
The thing about deep with God is there is ALWAYS deeper to go. A decade ago, the deep I was wading into, the stuff that scared me and robbed me of comfort, is now things that don’t make my knees shake. It’s stuff I was terrified to live through and yet, I did, I made it, and I’m living, breathing and THRIVING, on the other side.
Same thing goes for the deep seven years ago and four years ago and six months ago.
Recently, we were recounting with friends all that we went through to secure this house as our home. I can put myself back into those moments, those emotions of the first phone call that threatened the deal falling through, or the weeks of waiting for the appraisal dispute to be completed. That was deep waters, phew, was that deep. But now, it doesn’t feel so deep. We’ve lived in this beautiful home for four months now and life has moved on. God has called me to other deep waters.
I want to close with something profound and memorable. As a writer, as a storyteller, that’s typically the goal. But it’s 8:16pm, I’m PRETTY sure James is asleep but I need to go turn the monitor on just to be triple check sure. I need my daily late reward cereal, my nighttime tea must be made, and there’s Netflix to watch before bedtime calls my name at 9pm.
The dishes won’t get done. The floor won’t get swept. The random junk the kids have found and spread all over the living room and kitchen will stay put in its spread out places. I will care for myself now that the writing and the worship music has helped align my soul with the One who heals. He healed my hurt heart as I sat in the deep waters, tonight. Knowing my son had an upset stomach, having done all the things to help, and still couldn’t calm him down, I had to place him in his bed and walk away, knowing I needed to take a breather, that hard mom moment, yep, that was deep waters.
As I was a decade ago, I’m still here, treading water, grateful to the deep that calls me into its fullness. Full of hard and rich and unknown. Full of Him, in all of His fullness I can’t even begin to comprehend.
Here I go trying to get all profound again…. TIME TO GO VA. Cereal calls.