I Will Not Be Shaken

The windows rattled and the wind howled as lightening lit up and sky and flashed though wooden slats of the nursery blinds. The strobe light effect and a hot muggy house kept Felix restless during his usually peaceful nighttime routine

I nursed my wiggly little boy and his sweaty skin stuck to my arm and eyes struggled to find sleep in the midst of the storm. He could sense my tension. He could feel my body stiffen every time the windows shook and his hand wandered up to my cheek pulling my gaze back down to his wide open eyes instead of trying to sneak a peak at the weather alerts on my phone or out the window at the swirling trees.

He was worried because I was worried. I did my best to relax. I closed my eyes and rested my head on the back of the rocker. A deep breath in and I began to sing a tried and true lullaby over him.

Down in the valley; the valley so low
hang your head over; hear the wind blow

He calmed and his eyes closed. I felt his breathing slow to a steady and slow rhythm and I let my mind wander gently stoking the back of his hand and letting my fingers dance around his still bald head, cheek and ear. He calmed as I calmed. He mimicked me. He followed my lead. In the eye of the storm his heart posture was reflecting mine. As his mother, care taker, the one he trusts most - if she is OK, I'm OK.

I thought about how nice that must be. How nice it would be to have someone leading you. Someone from whom you could take cues and be put at ease because they have it under control. You have that in loving parents as a child, but children grow up. Move away. Have lives of their own. And along with those lives comes decisions, questions, adversity, storms. It's hard.

The past few days I have had this heavy feeling looming over me. I can't shake it. I feel hopeless, useless, worthless and bored. It's taken a toll on my family and altered the peaceful home we usually have. I hate it. Sometimes I can see the bad mood from a distance drift like a dark storm cloud looming and other times it hits so quickly no one has the chance to prepare. The wreckage of a blow-out fight leaving days of me picking through wreckage.

And in the pit of this self-loathing and lashing out I was reminded of a verse I recently read that spoke to my heart and I read it again.

Psalm 16:5-11 

Lord, you alone are my portion and my cup;
 

you make my lot secure.

The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places;
    

surely I have a delightful inheritance.

I will praise the Lord, who counsels me;
    

even at night my heart instructs me. 

I keep my eyes always on the Lord.
    

With him at my right hand, I will not be shaken.

Therefore my heart is glad and my tongue rejoices;
    

my body also will rest secure,

because you will not abandon me to the realm of the dead,
    

nor will you let your faithful one see decay.

You make known to me the path of life;
    

you will fill me with joy in your presence,
    

with eternal pleasures at your right hand.

I DO have someone leading me. Someone who I can rest in. I can grab his face and pull his eye to mine and listen to his lullaby over me. His singing over me. I will find Joy and a path of life in his presence!

Jesus.

It is always him. He is the ONLY thing I can boast in. He is my leader. My Peace. My lover. My friend. My comfort. My redeemer. My Everything.

Restoration

Columbus was cold. We visited last weekend and stayed in the guest room at Rebecca and Teddy's house. Falling asleep to the flickering light of big white candles in large vases and the noises on the street below. They live in an area of town named Franklinton. Similar name to our cozy and quaint hometown in Franklin, TN but it couldn't be more different.

Franklinton is an area wrecked by drug use, prostitution, violence and poverty. Most middle class Americans would avoid living in such an area. But for Becca and Teddy, daily living and challenging the status quo to positive change is part of their calling. I know they might not say those exact words, but  their peaceful approach to community and spreading the gospel played out in small acts of love is changing the community from within. Watching the neighbors children. Offering a cup of tea to people needing warmth. A strong yet loving word to those in need of truth. It's amazing to watch unfold and see their humility and practical approach to all of it.

Within 24 hours of being in Franklinton I was propositioned as a prostitute and our car was broken into resulting in my purse being stolen. It was unsettling.

I was walking from Emily's to Becca's house with Felix on my hip and a man rolled down his window and asked if I needed a ride. I felt incredibly uneasy about him even stopping, but naively, I also thought "what a nice guy." I turned him down because I only had a block to go. As he drove away, I noticed his gas tank was open and almost chased him down to tell him, but he was gone before I had the chance. When I retold the story to Rebecca, her face dropped and she began apologizing.

"I'm so sorry, Katie. He thought you were a prostitute. Asking for a ride, asking if your going to work, or just stopping and rolling down the window is code for that in this part of town. Thirty percent of all prostitution arrests in columbus take place two blocks from here. I'm so sorry."

The next morning Josh and I woke early to go grab some coffee before breakfast. When we arrived at our car and as we approached the car I noticed that Felix's car seat had been tossed over the center console. When we opened the doors our trunk had been accessed by the back seat and everything in the car was scattered in disarray. And my purse was missing.

We spent the morning canceling credit cards and talking about what was missing.There wasn't much of value that was taken except for my new purse. I spent all my christmas money to buy it from Banana Republic. Shallow, i know, but I cried. I cried for my silly little purse that was taken. I cried for the inconvenience of it all. I cried thinking about someone rummaging through Felix's diaper bag and touching all the stuff in our car. I cried because it made me feel helpless. I cried because I felt violated. I felt abandoned and unprotected.

I know there are people, including some who are incredibly close to me, who have been through much, MUCH worse and this gave me a minuscule glimpse at the injustice of it all. I prayed that the purse would be found. I prayed that the Lord would meet the person who felt so desperate to tear through a middle-class car looking for anything of value. And I prayed for redemption of the situation. For a follow through on his promise of working all things together for my good.

About 6 hours later Josh got a phone call. A man found my purse by his truck and got our phone number off of a checkbook. Celebration ensued! Josh, Rebecca and Teddy went together to pick up the purse. Just a two block walk away my purse was found in tact and everything was still there except for a target giftcard, my iPhone charger, a box of golden grahams, and loose change.

I was sweeping in a quiet house while they were gone. Giving thanks for the Lord for what was lost being found and I was hit out of the blue with His voice speaking to my heart. "It's March 1st. This is the start of a new month and it's the beginning of restoration."

I cried. I cried tears of joy because so much as been stolen. So much as been taken from my family in recent months. We have felt abandoned by God. We have felt attacked - metaphorically and literally - without defense.  And seeing his Hand move in even the stolen purse situation has softened my heart towards him again. He is good. He does have a plan. He will pull all the pieces of this messed up world together and write a beautiful story. He will restore.

Radical

In every persons walk with the Lord there are milestones. Big events that you cling to and use as a reminder of God's goodness and faithfulness. The day you decided to follow Jesus and the day you declared that decision to the world through testimony and baptism are two of the big ones, for sure. But for a lot of people who grew up in the church those aren't the touchstone moments. Those aren't the vivid memories that stick with them forever.  Church camp and conference highs, fabulous worship services and an anointed sermon oftentimes make the list of intense emotional experiences that will carry you through for a while, but often times it seems it's the smaller moments of life that stick.

It's the small moments that are brought back around as a reminder of God's constant presence in our life. A worship song that seems sung directly to your heart. An encouraging text from a friend at just the right time. A flop open of your Bible to lay eyes on the exact promise you needed to cling to. A prophetic word that seems as if the person was reading your mail. A feather under your car windshield or on your keyboard at work reminding you He is near. Hearing the Lord's voice while scrubbing dishes at the sink or vacuuming your living room floor.

These things stop us in our tracks and stick with us for years to come.

This past Sunday Josh and I were surrounded by family and friends and we dedicated Felix to the Lord. I know he won't remember the moment and I know it wasn't a wild and passionate encounter with the the Holy Spirit. But it was a radical moment.

I don't know if you know this or not, but radical means of or going to the root or origin. Fundamental. Forming a base or a foundation.

It also means drastic or extreme.

That morning we laid a foundation in the history of our family of three. We gathered round with hands laid and outstretched and words of life spoken over our little boy. Nothing dramatic. Nothing hyper emotional or crazy happened, but August 4th, 2013 is an important date in my book. A radical moment in Michael family history. As mother and father we are trusting the Lord to protect, nurture, draw near to, bless, move through, speak to, hold, cover, and love our first born son.

A radical moment indeed.

Finding Good

The three girls ran by giggling and laughing chasing their tea-cup sized puppy who had escaped it's collar across the grass. The sun was beating down on my back even at 6:45 PM and I was finishing up my last lap on a 3 mile walk at Pinkerton park.

I was along side a dear friend, who I feel utterly and completely comfortable with chatting about our days. About what's to come and about life. I was soaking in much needed vitamin D. My baby was napping peacefully with his toes curled around the cup holder, sucking on the stroller strap. And God was filling holes in my heart at that very moment.

The early part of the week was rough. Felix wouldn't nap and wouldn't sleep more than 2 hours in a row at night MAX and I actually found myself questioning whether I wanted to be a stay at home mom. I envied the women out on kid-free lunch dates talking loudly about office politics and not worrying about leaky boobs, nap schedules or how to squeeze in a shower before noon.

A few mornings earlier I laid on the floor and cried while my baby fussed beside me and kicked his froggy legs up and down grabbing his toes and sucking on his fingers. Nothing could quite make him happy and I was so tired. I hadn't left the house in 2 days. I felt so alone. I felt so overwhelmed by the messy house. I felt so frustrated that nothing creative had flowed out of me for days and I didn't feel like I was a good enough mom for my buddy. I let God set peace on me. It didn't quite sink in all the way but enough rubbed off that I had grace to get through that rough day.

He gave me a husband who insisted on watching the baby that night while I spent sometime out of the house alone. He gave me time with other worship leaders for late night lattes. He revealed goodness to me in sunny mornings, hot showers, funny sit coms, snuggly babies, sweaty workouts, husband-made breakfast sandwiches, 6 hours of sleep and now this evening walk with a friend surrounded by happiness.

This season of life is hard for me and I'm still navigating how to not let my emotions run out of control on "down" days, but the good FAR out weighs the bad. God is more than faithful and always provides just what I need. I'm thankful able to raise my son as a full-time stay at home mommy. He really brings me so much joy.

Promises Pilgrimage

"Don't make any plans this Saturday, Ok?" He said to me while we both shuffled around our tiny kitchen me putting away clean dishes and him making dinner . "Ok, why? Do you have something you want to do?" I reply.

"Promise not to shoot it down, even though it might sound stupid?"

"OK"

"I want to drive around town and visit all the places where the Lord has been faithful to us and provided for our family since being in Nashville." He states his well thought out plan

So on Saturday morning we loaded our son into the car, filled our bellies with coffee and pastries from Whole Foods and headed toward Williamson County Hospital where God protected me during a Gallbladder surgery in 2008.

We passed the old building for the Franklin Vineyard where we both came to this church community we have come to call family.

We thanked God for Real Food Farms where our Brother in Law works and where we have received countless free veggies that led to healthy bodies paving the way for a healthy pregnancy.

We drove by Grace Center church, where God first revealed the moving of his Holy Spirit in powerful ways at a Bill Johnson conference in 2007.

We made our way downtown to Green Hills by Josh's old job and the starbucks where he told me he was laid off from a position that made him unhappy.

Past Vanderbilt hospital where we welcomed our beautiful son into the world and both of us cried as we praised Him for a beautiful delivery and healthy child.

To the Country Music Hall of Fame and the job that brought us down south in the first place. Where I cut my teeth in marketing and had an amazing business mentor and friends.

Out by the airport where Josh learned code at Acxiom and was able to lay ground work for building ESL Basics and developed skills that landed him his job at Magazines.

Past our old apartment, where we first lived. Where we made pasta or egg sandwiches for dinner most nights. Lived on a shoestring budget. Had our first big fight. Had our first big reconciliation. Made it through a cold winter. And into a warm spring. And where we realized just how much work and fun it is being married.

The day was topped off at Brixx for salad and pizza. Where Felix continued to act like a dream after 2.5 hours in the car, sleeping in my arms while we prayed one final time, giving thanks to God for never letting us down. For never faltering. For being a good and faithful Father. For hemming us in behind and before and paving the way for our future full of His blessing and goodness.