Through the Stillness

What was it like in Eden? To walk with God, like literally walk with him? My feeble mind cannot even fathom. I used to get near angry when I would think about how they could screw up something so perfect and peaceful. I used to wonder why God would let them screw up. I used to wonder why Eve would converse with a serpent in the first place. Why listen to something so wrong, and ugly over good and God?

I’ve been a bit distraught, a bit fixated, a bit taken down by suicide and drugs. No matter how well things are going in my life, these thoughts are always there lingering in my mind. I know it’s because the last couple years I’ve lost two family members and an old friend to these evils. All three of these people were smart…actually really smart people. If you know me and my lifestyle, you would see why I cannot stop thinking about it. It isn’t something I am used to. Two of these people became lost in their addictions––to the point you wouldn’t know how beautiful and smart they were at one time. The other was just tired of all the pain. Why, why, why has been stomping around my mind for way too long now. I finally see. I finally understand. I still don’t like it, but I see and understand.

Last Sunday during bible study, all my settled questions that had nestled comfortably in my mind were escorted out by a retired pastor who was subbing for the day. I guess I never even thought to go to the beginning to find my answers. The beginning, as in Genesis 3: The Fall of Man.

How many times have I heard this? My goodness, I know he was a crafty serpent. I truly didn’t think I would get much out of the study until he pointed out things I always brushed right past. He then, in a mockingly tone, repeated the words of the serpent, “Did God really say?” He said it over and over again and I pictured myself standing amongst a group of teens. I pictured the ‘popular’ leader of the pack. She rolled her eyes, mocking her friend who was repeating her parents rules. “Did your parents really mean? Will your parents ever even find out if you do this just once with us? Come on, everyone’s doing it…”

He then asked us what we thought the serpent looked like. Oh, the looks on our faces as we pondered this. Hmm. No where in Genesis 3 does it even hint Eve was scared of this serpent. We don’t know for sure what the serpent even looked like. In my limited mind, I always pictured the serpent as scary. I always picture evil as ugly. But, as we all know, evil is many times wrapped in beauty. Our eyes deceive us, our minds fall prey to believing because we want to feel cool and capable and free. Think about Eden the best you can and then ask if Eve would have been scared of the serpent. I know it is hard, for we are sinners from birth. Eve existed for some time before the fall. Peace exuded all around her. She wasn’t exposed to what we’ve been exposed to. She still chose wrong!

It will always hurt when I think about the ones who lost their lives in horrific ways. My questions are gone though. Again, I don’t like it, but I now understand. It’s really quite simple. If the serpent could tempt Eve who lived in Eden, he surely can tempt others in this broken world. The crafty serpent came to them and wrapped the drugs and suicide in an idea that didn’t scare them, but instead preyed on their weaknesses. It is what he does!

“God is the best house to live in.” (Oliver age 5)

Three years ago today, my grandma died. I had a dream about her last night and her presence was so clear that when I woke up it took time to realize it was a dream. Her death came rushing back in my mind. The pain was as fresh as it was that day. I have felt it all day too.

She had a way about her that always made you think of God and living life as a christian. Years of her life were spent working in the church and she loved it. I remember people talking about her at her funeral and to hear what an impact she had on so many people’s life made me even more proud to have her as my grandma.

My other grandma’s sister died a couple days ago and her funeral is today. As a kid, we would go visit my great-grandma and her in West Virginia every summer. It was always my favorite vacation. I can still hear the gravel under the tires as we pulled into her driveway and the creaking of her screen door as we opened it ever so quickly. The smell of her home and food cooking will never fade from my mind. Her smile was always sincere and her strength shone through every part of her. Always, I would quickly say my hellos and run out the door and across the road to see Aunt Opal. She was my grandma’s sister/best friend and I always felt close to her. She knew everything about me because my grandma told her everything. There was always a little part of me that ached for a sister like that. I do have that with my mom, I realize. As a kid, though, my mom was my mom and we couldn’t have what we have now.

Anyhow, my Aunt Opal had a back porch where we would hang out. I would listen to her talk and I never grew weary of her stories. She was a strong, wise, and caring lady. I loved being over there and occasionally I would spend the night. It made me feel special  and I loved the break from my brothers. Ah, such fond memories.

My grandma and Aunt Opal’s bond held each other through all times. The day my grandma died, we felt as though she was holding on for some reason. We called Aunt Opal and held the phone to my grandma’s ear. We knew that was it––that was what she needed. Shortly after, she peacefully passed. It was beautiful and gave me peace on the saddest day of my life.

Today, I am sad as I think of my grandmas. Christmas time is not the same without them. Heck, life is not the same. Every one of them taught me so much and they reinforce why I am who I am. There are times when I think about what I should do in life or in a situation. I see one of their faces. I hear their words and stories as I sip my coffee or make dinner. I know how blessed I am to have had such lovely ladies to guide me.

Today, I also anxiously wait for a niece to be born. It will no longer just be a day of sorrow. It will be a day of celebrating a birth.

Typing this reminded me how life has a way of carrying on and bringing along those no longer with us as though they still remain. It is simply beautiful, isn’t it?

Uncertain whether or not I should watch, I almost turned it off. I felt like I was intruding on the last real worship service they shared. Guilt crept in seeing people who had no idea what they would endure a week later. I felt a pulling to continue. The guilt turned into something I cannot quite put into words. It became a privilege and duty, I guess is the best I can describe it. These people who I have never met are my brothers and sisters in Christ. This was them, it is me, it is us every Sunday.

Thus, I sat waiting in my car for my kids to get out of school––my eyes glued to my phone. I heard the song. My heart fluttered and I had to pause the video. My mind took me back to yesterday at church when the very same song was sang. I was standing, swaying, and softly singing. I looked down and watched my beautiful five-year-old standing, swaying, and softly singing just like me. I looked up and saw many others standing, swaying, and singing. Worship. Beautiful pure worship. I pressed play and watched First Baptist Church of Sutherland Springs standing, swaying, and singing to the same song. That very same song, because I loved watching my son earlier, was also replayed (a few times) last night as I cooked dinner. The song was 10,000 Reasons by Matt Redman. I never thought it could have an even deeper meaning to me, as it does now.

Listening and taking in the words of this song as I mourn with those who survived, I cannot help but to also close my eyes and picture those who did not survive as having joined our “cloud of witnesses”. I ask myself, what would they want us to do? I believe they would want us to keep on singing, just as this beautiful song says.

As I continue to reflect and mourn on this horrific event, I will listen to this song over and over again. I will stand, sway, and sing. Maybe I will even sing louder in an act of defiance to show Satan the darkness will not and cannot overcome. Will you join me?

I’ve been staring at this blank page for quite some time. I type a few words. I read the words aloud and then my  finger presses the delete button in a somewhat melodic tune. The process repeats itself. I’m not even sure if it is that I cannot find the right words or if a habit has been formed. I am going to force myself to break through the silence of this page and only press the delete button for editing purposes.  Maybe freely sifting through my thoughts is what I need…

Dear Blog,

I talked to my mom today on some things that have been weighing on me as of late. As I sipped on my coffee and listened, I wondered how I went through my mid to late teen years thinking I didn’t need her advice as much as I actually did. Simple and yet profound is the wisdom she gives. Never has she leaned toward worldly ways. There’s always a following of the Holy Spirit and a confidence that God carries you where you need to be when you trust and obey. Sometimes, I just need to hear my momma say what I already know. I already know because I had her to show me.

There are times when we can’t see beyond the surface and we aren’t supposed to. Maybe we can’t see because it places the control on us, instead of on God. We have to trust in His ways, His timing, and His pulling or pushing.

I found an old journal the other day as I was going through boxes. The first entry spoke of Matt and “what a great guy he is and how I hope to marry him one day.” Another journal was when he proposed to me. One was when I was pregnant. The last was when Luke was ten months old. I read some of the entries to Luke and it was such a great bonding moment. It may be my inspiration for writing this post as well.

My dog is flatulent. I mean, it is beyond normal dog gas. The smell is about to make me pass out. If I start rambling nonsense, it is probably from the toxic fumes.

My blog. I don’t know where to take it next. I feel like I’m being led somewhere, I just don’t know where yet. thats is why I haven’t had as many posts. I need to do some more praying.

It is a bit crazy to watch your kids grow into themselves. I watched my oldest with a special needs kid the other day. His patience and compassion beamed through. There was not one glimpse of him feeling like he had to, it was Luke being Luke.

Between talking to my mom and rambling on in this post, I feel much better. Thanks, blog!