My Ebenezer
Despite the snow, ice, and general ickiness of this Minnesota Sunday, Mr. M insisted we go to "new-new church". My son has names for everything. Ace Hardware is the Chainsaw Store, Wal-Mart is the Cookie Zoo, Target is the Brown Cookie Store, Aldi is the Muffin Store, Festival is the Donut Store, Fleet Farm is simply the Farm. And Grace Fellowship, our church, is "new-new church".
One of the most difficult things for me to maintain, but is so important for my kids, is our everyday routine. Not knowing whether or not I will be a crying heap in the morning, or somewhat vertical, I would prefer to have my days as loose as possible, always leaving me the escape hatch of my bed. However, my children are 2 and 4. Their daddy went to the hospital and never came home. For the week that Andrew was in the coma, they were shuffled between their aunt and uncle's house and their grandparents' house. For days in a row Mom came to get them late, and their routine was just shot. Then daddy dies. Even though they don't totally understand what that means, they are keenly aware that daddy is not home. He hasn't come home. He's been gone for a long time. Sleepovers at Grandma and Grandpa's became sources of concern. Being picked up at school by someone other than Mom was panic-inducing. Deviating from our routine brought with it feelings of uncertainty, fear, and lots of tears. Only recently have we been able to make it through a night without constantly verifying Mommy is still here (we still do, but its down to 2 times each, rather than 5 times each.) So, while I can't bring our lives back to normal, I can do my part in making sure it is as close as we can. And that means going to "new-new church" on Sundays (and Wendy's afterward with Grandma and Grandpa).
The speaker this morning was telling the story of Joshua and the Israelites crossing the Jordan river at flood stage. The priests carrying the Arc of the Covenant were told to walk ahead and when they touched the water, it would stop. They would step across the Jordan on dry land. Despite the raging water in front of them, they stepped. They stepped, and the water stopped. The people walked across on dry land with a wall of water to the side of them. After everyone had crossed, Joshua instructed one man from each of the tribes of Israel to go back into the Jordan and gather a rock. (The Bible says rock, but think more...small boulder.) They stacked the rocks in a tower, and that tower was to signify for the generations to come what God had done. This tower was called an Ebenezer. A reminder of God's faithfulness and presence. As a church, we were encouraged to find our own personal Ebenezers and post them for the church to see. I don't have an Ebenezer yet for this current storm. I'm still in the middle of it. I'm stepping into the flooded river. Much like the Israelites in Joshua's day, I've read the stories. I've heard of Moses, the Red Sea, and the water stopping, then cascading over the Egyptian army. On November 15th, I came to the edge of the flooded river. Behind me was the life I had been living, the path I had been going, and it was no longer possible to go back. Before me was a raging river, full of doubt, uncertainty, and pain. In truth, the moment that Andrew's heart beat for the last time was the moment I stepped into the river. God has stopped the flood from consuming me, but that doesn't mean there aren't rocks in the way. I'm still standing, but only because I'm being held up by the God of the Universe. Yes, God is keeping the flood at bay, but often it feels like I'm shuffling along on the dry ground at night. I can't see 2 inches in front of my face. Some days I feel brave, strong, ready to face the world as a widowed mom of 2 young children. Other days, I fall flat on my face, angry that this is my life. I did everything I was supposed to. I followed the rules. I put my marriage first, and gave it everything I had. I worked harder in the 5 and a half years I was married than in anything else in my life, and what do I have to show for that? A dead husband, two toddlers, and two dogs (soon to be 1, but that's another story for another day.) Some days I flip between the two every few hours.
Until God shows me the Ebenezer from this walk in the storm, I'll keep singing. The Bible says that if I don't sing, the rocks and stones will start singing. Today, I'm singing "Never Once":
One of the most difficult things for me to maintain, but is so important for my kids, is our everyday routine. Not knowing whether or not I will be a crying heap in the morning, or somewhat vertical, I would prefer to have my days as loose as possible, always leaving me the escape hatch of my bed. However, my children are 2 and 4. Their daddy went to the hospital and never came home. For the week that Andrew was in the coma, they were shuffled between their aunt and uncle's house and their grandparents' house. For days in a row Mom came to get them late, and their routine was just shot. Then daddy dies. Even though they don't totally understand what that means, they are keenly aware that daddy is not home. He hasn't come home. He's been gone for a long time. Sleepovers at Grandma and Grandpa's became sources of concern. Being picked up at school by someone other than Mom was panic-inducing. Deviating from our routine brought with it feelings of uncertainty, fear, and lots of tears. Only recently have we been able to make it through a night without constantly verifying Mommy is still here (we still do, but its down to 2 times each, rather than 5 times each.) So, while I can't bring our lives back to normal, I can do my part in making sure it is as close as we can. And that means going to "new-new church" on Sundays (and Wendy's afterward with Grandma and Grandpa).
The speaker this morning was telling the story of Joshua and the Israelites crossing the Jordan river at flood stage. The priests carrying the Arc of the Covenant were told to walk ahead and when they touched the water, it would stop. They would step across the Jordan on dry land. Despite the raging water in front of them, they stepped. They stepped, and the water stopped. The people walked across on dry land with a wall of water to the side of them. After everyone had crossed, Joshua instructed one man from each of the tribes of Israel to go back into the Jordan and gather a rock. (The Bible says rock, but think more...small boulder.) They stacked the rocks in a tower, and that tower was to signify for the generations to come what God had done. This tower was called an Ebenezer. A reminder of God's faithfulness and presence. As a church, we were encouraged to find our own personal Ebenezers and post them for the church to see. I don't have an Ebenezer yet for this current storm. I'm still in the middle of it. I'm stepping into the flooded river. Much like the Israelites in Joshua's day, I've read the stories. I've heard of Moses, the Red Sea, and the water stopping, then cascading over the Egyptian army. On November 15th, I came to the edge of the flooded river. Behind me was the life I had been living, the path I had been going, and it was no longer possible to go back. Before me was a raging river, full of doubt, uncertainty, and pain. In truth, the moment that Andrew's heart beat for the last time was the moment I stepped into the river. God has stopped the flood from consuming me, but that doesn't mean there aren't rocks in the way. I'm still standing, but only because I'm being held up by the God of the Universe. Yes, God is keeping the flood at bay, but often it feels like I'm shuffling along on the dry ground at night. I can't see 2 inches in front of my face. Some days I feel brave, strong, ready to face the world as a widowed mom of 2 young children. Other days, I fall flat on my face, angry that this is my life. I did everything I was supposed to. I followed the rules. I put my marriage first, and gave it everything I had. I worked harder in the 5 and a half years I was married than in anything else in my life, and what do I have to show for that? A dead husband, two toddlers, and two dogs (soon to be 1, but that's another story for another day.) Some days I flip between the two every few hours.
Until God shows me the Ebenezer from this walk in the storm, I'll keep singing. The Bible says that if I don't sing, the rocks and stones will start singing. Today, I'm singing "Never Once":
Standing on this mountaintop
Looking just how far we've come
Knowing that for every step
You were with us
Looking just how far we've come
Knowing that for every step
You were with us
Kneeling on this battle ground
Seeing just how much You've done
Knowing every victory
Was Your power in us
Seeing just how much You've done
Knowing every victory
Was Your power in us
Scars and struggles on the way
But with joy our hearts can say
Yes, our hearts can say
But with joy our hearts can say
Yes, our hearts can say
Never once did we ever walk alone
Never once did You leave us on our own
You are faithful, God, You are faithful
Never once did You leave us on our own
You are faithful, God, You are faithful
Kneeling on this battle ground
Seeing just how much You've done
Knowing every victory
Was Your power in us
Seeing just how much You've done
Knowing every victory
Was Your power in us
Scars and struggles on the way
But with joy our hearts can say
Yes, our hearts can say
But with joy our hearts can say
Yes, our hearts can say
Never once did we ever walk alone
Never once did You leave us on our own
You are faithful, God, You are faithful
You are faithful, God, You are faithful
Never once did You leave us on our own
You are faithful, God, You are faithful
You are faithful, God, You are faithful
Scars and struggles on the way
But with joy our hearts can say
Never once did we ever walk alone
Carried by Your constant grace
Held within Your perfect peace
Never once, no, we never walk alone
But with joy our hearts can say
Never once did we ever walk alone
Carried by Your constant grace
Held within Your perfect peace
Never once, no, we never walk alone
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