You will stand again!

2 Samuel 22:34

He makes me as surefooted as a deer, enabling me to stand on mountain 

heights. 

As I sat with tears streaming down my face, staring at my flooded basement, the memories of things and places washed over me.  As I looked around, all I could do was stare in disbelief.  Where do I even begin?   This mammoth cleanup was the last straw.  I sat in the middle of the mess and just sobbed.   

It was on the same day, a dear friendship I had been in had ended in a terrible way.  It had left me reeling, filled with deep sadness and hurt.  I was completely broken and undone.  The faucet of tears wouldn't stop.

As I stood in ankle deep water of pain and loss, God showed himself to me.   He reminded me of a passage of scripture in Habakkuk 3.  Its not often I find myself opening the bible to Habakkuk.  But the old testament prophets prayer was exactly what I needed to hear in that moment.  

It was years earlier, a dear friend shared this passage with me.  "Though the fig tree does not bud and there are no grapes on the vines, though the olive crop fails and the fields produce no food, though there are no sheep in the pen and no cattle in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will be joyful in God my Savior.  He makes my feet like the feet of a deer,  He enables me to tread on the heights."

As I sat in silence, those words began to take root in my heart.  Somehow in the midst of the water soaked pieces of my life and this broken relationship I could still rejoice.  I could find joy in a flooded basement.   

He led me back to all the beautiful ways He had met me during the building of our relationship.  She was without a place to live and struggled to make sense out of her life.  I kept seeing Gods grace and direction through the months of my sharing with her how God meets us right where we are.  In the midst of our pain. 

My own words were now exactly what I needed as I sat in this puddle of grief. 

God was gracious to me in that wet and soggy basement.  He said "I'm refining you."  He took my act of obedience and was making my feet like a surefooted deer, as he called me to keep climbing. The terrain was rocky but he was strengthening me.  He would help me stand again on new mountain heights. 

Was this really how God was ending this friendship? Where was the pretty box tied with the bow. There was nothing tidy about this.  But He was showing me the path to rejoice.  My family and friends offered me love and encouraged me to keep climbing.  

As we offer God our basement experience He passes it through the waters of His grace and love.  We can believe that He will make us surefooted again.  Standing on the heights!  That's what I'm going to do!  

Just show up!

It was a cool November morning, I was in the delivery room when I went flat lined.   I have no memory of the next moments but my husband reminds me.

The little anesthesiologist gave my husband a forearm shiver to the chest, to get to me.  She got my heart beating again.

Our baby boy was born by c-section a few minutes later.   As I knew nothing about what had happened, I sat in a daze staring at our beautiful baby.  Our quiver was now full, actually it was over flowing.   He was our caboose.   #4. 4 and no more was our new motto.    

But I woke up the next morning to sharp horrendous pains.   I could hardly move and wondered if I would live to see another day let alone raise my now full quiver.  

Nurses were beginning to hover.  I had no idea what was wrong.   But the terrible pain took over and I knew I was in deep trouble.   The feeling of utter helplessness completely consumed me. 

As I think back to that time,  I was almost absent from my body.  My body was reacting to something but I had no idea what.  

The following day was Thanksgiving day and the pain only continued to get worse.   My doctor called in a specialist.  In between rounds, the gastroenterologist swooped into my room wearing his beautiful festive sweater.  He was obviously dressed for a thanksgiving feast.  He checked my vitals and the look on his face said it all.  Fear over took me.  

With a grim look, he said "this is one sick patient."   He yelled "we are taking her into surgery now!"  He took off his ready-for-thanksgiving-dinner sweater.  Off we went into emergency surgery.  

That was 25 years ago.

When I woke from surgery I was groggy and frightened.  I found tubes coming out of me in every unlikely place.  

As the darkness fell around me that evening, my spirit was depleted.  I was sick and scared and in great pain.  The blackness of my heart consumed my thoughts.  As I laid in the eerie silence of my hospital bed,  I wondered if I was going to live or die. 

While the night lingered on, fear surrounded me and the echo of my own heartbeat was almost more than I could take.  Tears began to flow down my cheeks.  

A night nurse peeked in my room.  She noticed I was still awake.  She came in and sat down next to my bed in the dimly lit room.  

I remember she had a gruff exterior but she spoke love and truth.  Her wise demeanor spoke grace.  We talked about life, babies, children and God.  My memory of her exact words has faded.  But the words she spoke began to stitch me back together.  I believe it was more about her presence than anything.  She just showed up.  

God knew what I needed in that moment.  I see it was His presence that sustained me through those incredible dark nights. 

That room became for me a sanctuary of grace as I sat in fear and wonder about my future.   Hope began to seep into the crevice of the night. 

He sent an angel in a night nurse to show up for me.  

It's taken me 25 years to put these words down.  I've reflected on the story but somehow never understood its meaning. I realize now maybe it's about showing up.  That's it. 

It was 9 days of intense pain and struggle to get well.  But God blessed me with healing and new life.  He took a dark night of the soul and refreshed it with His presence in an uncommon way. 

Gods reminder to me is that His dwelling place is in us.  No matter how sick or broken we may feel, that's where He resides.  In me.  In us.  In a kind nurse who just showed up. 

When we show up for someone, He does too.  

 Psalm 26:8

I love your sanctuary, Lord, the place where your glorious presence dwells.

Tyler is 25 years old today!  Happy birthday to him.