Today my heart is raw. I've been crying off and on for days now and Felix has decided to completely revolt against sleeping. Up literally every hour or more. Yesterday my body and mind shut down. I couldn't take it anymore. The pain from recent events, exhaustion and other life demands took it's final blow and then shoved me into a 2 hour nap that couldn't have come at a better time.
I'm still processing through all that is happening along with my family, but at this point it feels like my heart - the muscle that drives my emotions - has been pulverized all that it can take and is ready for some healing. I know it will be a slow process and I still have quite a bit of grieving - along with all it's glorious stages - to go through and honestly the place I want to go right now is distraction.
I want to dive into books, blogs, movies, TV Shows, mothering, projects, relationships etc. but the truth of the matter is, that what I really need is some soap, water, and thick ointment slathered all over these open wounds.
I need time to march on to give me space to process. I need the sand paper that's been grating against me to ease up a bit and allow me to get used to the new roughed up shape. I need to sorting through my questions, my anger, my attitude and my theology. I need to figure out how to let Jesus in for healing. And try to reconcile what His role was/is in this tragedy.
And in the midst of all of this, 6 month dr. appointments will be made. Obligations will be met. I'll lead worship. coffee will be consumed. walks will be taken. poopy diapers changed. hands held. Babies soothed. dinners cooked. and sisters hugged. But I'm holding onto the truth that God will press in. He is close to the broken hearted, you know.
7.15.2013
7.11.2013
Familiar
So much has happened. A lot that I can't and don't feel comfortable sharing. A family crisis bringing all the Ewing sisters and our mom and dad together in one place. At my parents new home in Baltimore. Hugs wrapped around one another finding comfort in warm, familiar and steady arms. Spinach lasagna, garlic bread, coffee and chocolate chip cookies filling our tummies. Giving us a sense of oneness in an strange and confusing place and situation.
When tragedy strikes coming back to home base sometimes feels like the only thing that will keep your insides from falling right out of you. The only thing that will keep you from curling up into a ball on the floor and screaming is having your sister next to you and your moms hand stroking your hair. Familiar jokes. Familiar faces. Familiar snuggles. Clinging to each other with a strength we didn't even know existed
I wrote earlier this month that home for me is Nashville and Franklin now. And it for sure is. Especially with my parents recent move to Baltimore, the house I grew up in in Ohio is no longer ours.
But this week our family truly proved that home has little to do with a location. It's in dad's stellar breakfast omelets In loading a dishwasher together - you wash I dry. In backseat driving and teasing. In recipe tug-of-war and in curled up reading on the couch next to each other. In talking loudly at the dinner table, hands laid and prayers lifted. In backs scratched and hymns sung in harmony. We found that home is in fact, with each other.
Your thoughts and prayers for us are appreciated.
When tragedy strikes coming back to home base sometimes feels like the only thing that will keep your insides from falling right out of you. The only thing that will keep you from curling up into a ball on the floor and screaming is having your sister next to you and your moms hand stroking your hair. Familiar jokes. Familiar faces. Familiar snuggles. Clinging to each other with a strength we didn't even know existed
I wrote earlier this month that home for me is Nashville and Franklin now. And it for sure is. Especially with my parents recent move to Baltimore, the house I grew up in in Ohio is no longer ours.
But this week our family truly proved that home has little to do with a location. It's in dad's stellar breakfast omelets In loading a dishwasher together - you wash I dry. In backseat driving and teasing. In recipe tug-of-war and in curled up reading on the couch next to each other. In talking loudly at the dinner table, hands laid and prayers lifted. In backs scratched and hymns sung in harmony. We found that home is in fact, with each other.
Your thoughts and prayers for us are appreciated.
7.08.2013
Another Goodbye
Conversations over pesto pizza, salad and cold beer at Whole foods with mamas holding fussy, overtired babies on our hips wishing we had more time. The plans were to meet up the next day for a cookout, a sleep over, and some final moments together before Nate and Joanna (my brother-in-law and sister-in-law) would depart for another stretch in the mission field in Africa, but the night was sweet, the air was cool and none of us wanted to part ways.
We talked about health, we talked about travel plans, we talked about babies, and future babies, and holidays, and reminisced about being housemates. As usual, the conversation eventually turned toward the Brewery. The one the boys will start up when they finally return from Afica for good. Thirteen Foot Brewery. (13 feet is the collective height of the boys - 6' 7" and 6' 5"). Dreaming of menus, and marketing plans, and beer names and distribution possibilities.
When we finally peeled away from each other for the evening, Josh and I got in the dark car and looked at each other knowing we were both thinking the same thing. We are really going to miss them.
We are blessed with a great many close friends. People we trust and have lots of great times with. However, then there is the inner circle of friends. People we bare our souls to. People who know our dirt. who will pray for us, check in on us, watch our kid for free and we can be 100% real around. These people have seen me on multiple times unshowered and without makeup. (this is a big deal...) This is a small group. I can almost count them on one hand and most of them are family members. Nate and Jo are in that group.
It's really hard having to spend this season of life so far away from one another and even disconnected from typical means of communication (cell phones are limited and internet access is very spotty where they live in Cameroon.) I'm glad they are walking in their calling. and I support them and what they are doing 100% And I'm SO glad the word of God is being spread. But selfishly (very selfishly) I wish it could be spread through someone else.
That is bad.
I repeat...That is SO bad....
But It's true. I love these people so much, that having to see them come and go so often tears a bit of my heart away every time they leave and I'm not even blood related to them, so I can only imagine how much Josh's heart breaks when they go. I'm so glad we were able to spend a few precious nights lingering and sucking out every last drop of time together to sustain us till they come back. We will miss them like crazy.
We talked about health, we talked about travel plans, we talked about babies, and future babies, and holidays, and reminisced about being housemates. As usual, the conversation eventually turned toward the Brewery. The one the boys will start up when they finally return from Afica for good. Thirteen Foot Brewery. (13 feet is the collective height of the boys - 6' 7" and 6' 5"). Dreaming of menus, and marketing plans, and beer names and distribution possibilities.
When we finally peeled away from each other for the evening, Josh and I got in the dark car and looked at each other knowing we were both thinking the same thing. We are really going to miss them.
We are blessed with a great many close friends. People we trust and have lots of great times with. However, then there is the inner circle of friends. People we bare our souls to. People who know our dirt. who will pray for us, check in on us, watch our kid for free and we can be 100% real around. These people have seen me on multiple times unshowered and without makeup. (this is a big deal...) This is a small group. I can almost count them on one hand and most of them are family members. Nate and Jo are in that group.
It's really hard having to spend this season of life so far away from one another and even disconnected from typical means of communication (cell phones are limited and internet access is very spotty where they live in Cameroon.) I'm glad they are walking in their calling. and I support them and what they are doing 100% And I'm SO glad the word of God is being spread. But selfishly (very selfishly) I wish it could be spread through someone else.
That is bad.
I repeat...That is SO bad....
But It's true. I love these people so much, that having to see them come and go so often tears a bit of my heart away every time they leave and I'm not even blood related to them, so I can only imagine how much Josh's heart breaks when they go. I'm so glad we were able to spend a few precious nights lingering and sucking out every last drop of time together to sustain us till they come back. We will miss them like crazy.
7.05.2013
Tasting the Wind
The ball park was hot and muggy even for a night game in the 4th inning. Felix was a dream smiling at strangers seated behind us, wearing a cute light blue Orioles baseball cap and soaking in his first baseball game with his intent blue eyes. But the heat started to get to him, or mostly get to me and I decided to take him for a walk.
We went out to the concession area and felt instant relief as the tunnel near the harbor in Baltimore created a breezeway of sorts. After a short walk I decided to just stand off to the side away from the commotion of the game to see if I could sway the little man down for a nap. We stood by an outlook over a green tree lined patio and let the wind rush around us.
The breeze was so strong my hair whipped around my face and the rustle in the trees created a wave like effect. Felix closed his eyes but kept his face up - taking the wind intentionally on his face. One little hand gripping my shirt and the other reaching upwards toward the strands of hair blowing about.
With little success at catching a tendril of my locks he surrendered and just let the wind blow through his clammy fingers. Hand stretched upward toward the sky. I watched as his eyes searched for the source of the sensation, glancing back and forth between me and his hand with a quizzical look. Air rushing around us.
Very methodically he reached his hand out then drew it to his mouth. Over and over. trying to taste the wind. Trying to find out if it was real or not. Was he in a dream? Did this feeling in fact exist? With a shy smile and sleepy eyes Felix surrendered to the mystery of the wind. Burying his head in my chest and yawning.
It's hard to not draw parallels between this simple act of a child and wind and an encounter with Holy Spirit. The spirit is so real. You can see his effects on the world around you. Sometimes you can hear him. Sometimes you can smell him. Sometimes you can even taste him and you can most definitely feel him. But no matter how hard you try to comprehend, the Spirit will remain a mystery.
God, instill in me a childlike encounter with the Holy Spirit. Reaching for you expecting to Taste, Touch, Smell, See, & Feel.
We went out to the concession area and felt instant relief as the tunnel near the harbor in Baltimore created a breezeway of sorts. After a short walk I decided to just stand off to the side away from the commotion of the game to see if I could sway the little man down for a nap. We stood by an outlook over a green tree lined patio and let the wind rush around us.
The breeze was so strong my hair whipped around my face and the rustle in the trees created a wave like effect. Felix closed his eyes but kept his face up - taking the wind intentionally on his face. One little hand gripping my shirt and the other reaching upwards toward the strands of hair blowing about.
With little success at catching a tendril of my locks he surrendered and just let the wind blow through his clammy fingers. Hand stretched upward toward the sky. I watched as his eyes searched for the source of the sensation, glancing back and forth between me and his hand with a quizzical look. Air rushing around us.
Very methodically he reached his hand out then drew it to his mouth. Over and over. trying to taste the wind. Trying to find out if it was real or not. Was he in a dream? Did this feeling in fact exist? With a shy smile and sleepy eyes Felix surrendered to the mystery of the wind. Burying his head in my chest and yawning.
It's hard to not draw parallels between this simple act of a child and wind and an encounter with Holy Spirit. The spirit is so real. You can see his effects on the world around you. Sometimes you can hear him. Sometimes you can smell him. Sometimes you can even taste him and you can most definitely feel him. But no matter how hard you try to comprehend, the Spirit will remain a mystery.
God, instill in me a childlike encounter with the Holy Spirit. Reaching for you expecting to Taste, Touch, Smell, See, & Feel.
7.01.2013
Home
For the longest time when people asked me where I am from I would always say "I live in Nashville, but I'm from Ohio." Within the last year, that answer has morphed to be "I'm from Nashville." I don't know what shifted. I don't know if it was the 5 years of CMA music fests endured (3 years as an employee at the Country Music Hall of Fame), if it was the cicada swarm, the flood, or the sweltering heat that pushed me through my right of passage to be "from nashville" or if it was the gradual knowing of an area. Feeling comfortable driving around without directions and having insight on the best coffee place, our favorite lunch spot or the closest, most reliable salon.
Maybe it had more to do with turning this little condo into a home that is lived in with touches of our own story in each room. Oh my mom, made that. My brother in law banged our ceiling here with a weight. Our friend spilled coffee there ages ago and we could never get the stain out. We bought that at Ikea on our 2nd anniversary. Remember that night when worshiped for hours in the living room? This table has been full of women for wine night and full of men for late night beers and chess. This is where I stood when I spoke the words "I'm pregnant" and this is where I knelt for the first 2 hours of labor in the quite coolness of a January night with worship music washing over me. Over here is where we set up our son's bathtub. It's his favorite part of the day. And in this corner is where he slept for the first 5 months in this world. and so on...and so on.
Yesterday we returned from a 9 day visit with my parents at their new house in Baltimore, MD. It was a great time hanging and spending more than the rushed weekend together. We relaxed and enjoyed cozy evenings watching the Food Network, sharing meals, and laughing. We visited Ikea, the National Zoo, the Baltimore Aquarium, and even saw an Oriole's game. Their new house is beautiful. Throughout the week as I could I would help my mom unpack boxes and settle well loved and recognizable things on to brand new shelves with freshly painted walls and pristine carpets. Felix had ample space to wiggle around on the floor I took advantage of an awesome soaking tub as my mom soaked up time with Mr. Felix. We had a great time, saw some wonderful things, ate some delicious food, and I miss my parents already.
But, there was something about recognizing percy priest lake from the airplane and seeing the Nashville skyline in the distance that put my heart at ease. This is my place. Nashville. Home. Where my husband and I first lived. Where we had our son. Where we run into people we know when we are out to breakfast. Where Felix will have his first memories and where I see many many years of love and growth to come in this town, in our home and in my heart.
Maybe it had more to do with turning this little condo into a home that is lived in with touches of our own story in each room. Oh my mom, made that. My brother in law banged our ceiling here with a weight. Our friend spilled coffee there ages ago and we could never get the stain out. We bought that at Ikea on our 2nd anniversary. Remember that night when worshiped for hours in the living room? This table has been full of women for wine night and full of men for late night beers and chess. This is where I stood when I spoke the words "I'm pregnant" and this is where I knelt for the first 2 hours of labor in the quite coolness of a January night with worship music washing over me. Over here is where we set up our son's bathtub. It's his favorite part of the day. And in this corner is where he slept for the first 5 months in this world. and so on...and so on.
Yesterday we returned from a 9 day visit with my parents at their new house in Baltimore, MD. It was a great time hanging and spending more than the rushed weekend together. We relaxed and enjoyed cozy evenings watching the Food Network, sharing meals, and laughing. We visited Ikea, the National Zoo, the Baltimore Aquarium, and even saw an Oriole's game. Their new house is beautiful. Throughout the week as I could I would help my mom unpack boxes and settle well loved and recognizable things on to brand new shelves with freshly painted walls and pristine carpets. Felix had ample space to wiggle around on the floor I took advantage of an awesome soaking tub as my mom soaked up time with Mr. Felix. We had a great time, saw some wonderful things, ate some delicious food, and I miss my parents already.
But, there was something about recognizing percy priest lake from the airplane and seeing the Nashville skyline in the distance that put my heart at ease. This is my place. Nashville. Home. Where my husband and I first lived. Where we had our son. Where we run into people we know when we are out to breakfast. Where Felix will have his first memories and where I see many many years of love and growth to come in this town, in our home and in my heart.
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