Wednesday, August 24, 2011

Did You Feel the Mountains Tremble?

We just sang this song on Sunday. Little did we know that on Tuesday we would experience it firsthand. I, myself, did not feel the earth moving under my feet but I heard from many friends who did. The news headlines were fixated on it. And, in my head, I kept singing this song.

The news kept the focus on the terror people felt as the buildings shook and tiles and pictures fell to the ground. I am sure that would be a scary experience. But I kept thinking of the mighty hand that can make the mountains tremble.

Living in the valleys of Central Pennsylvania, you cannot help but be moved by the beauty of the mountains all around you. I am amazed every time I see the sun setting behind them or see a rainbow dancing from peak to peak. It is truly breathtaking. As I looked at them last night, I tried to imagine what it would be like to see one actually tremble. I know it would be terrifying. We would run for shelter. But, still, it would be amazing to see.

And the very hand that moves the mountains will be our shelter.

I may not have ever felt the mountains tremble in a literal way but I have stood in the valley of this life and felt the mountains shaking all around me. I have felt as if the earth beneath my feet is slipping away and I am falling into a pit. A pit so deep and dark that I cannot see a way out. I have grasped for something to hold on to, something steady and unshakable. To pull me up and set me on solid ground again.

And the very hand that moves the mountains has been my shelter.

The news may have focused on the science behind the trembling we felt, but I knew there is only One who can make the mountains tremble and the earth quake. Some day all will see Him and bow before Him. The quaking will be our knees as we tremble at His glory and fall at His feet. I long for that day when the mountains will tremble because the people of God are praising Him.

But, for now, I look at the mountains surrounding me. I feel the earth beneath my feet. I enjoy the splendor I see. Knowing that it is just a taste of what is to come. Knowing that there is no reason to fear the trembling of the mountains. Or my own heart.

Because the very hand that moves the mountains is my shelter.

Friday, August 19, 2011

I am...

I am so overwhelmed, busy, stressed, but I also am happy, excited, optimistic, and at peace. Life has been moving at the speed of lightning with so much to do and take care of but I am trying to take it as it comes and enjoy the chaos.

I haven't been a good blogger, I know. So much occupies my day and mind with all the organizing I am trying to get done. Blog posts pop into my head but by the time I can sit down and write my mind is tired and numb.

In all my organizing I have found so many of my journals with random posts from different points in my life. I came across this entry and thought I would share it here. I don't even know when it was written but it shows the heart of someone who is broken and desparate for comfort. I don't remember writing it but I remember feeling this way. Maybe someone you know, or go to church with, feels this way. Maybe they need you today.

I am the Mother

I am the mother of a child with special needs.

I've often wondered why we use the word "special".

I don't feel like our situation is "special".

Different... yes.

Overwhelming... yes.

Exhausting... yes.

Scary... yes.

Lonely... most definitely yes.

But "special"... no, not very.

Don't get me wrong. I love my child. I fight for her. I adore her. I would die for her.

SHE is special.

Her disability is NOT.

I am her mother. I need help. I need hope.

Church, where are you?

Will YOU love my child? Love Me?

Will you be the hands of Christ and help me and my child?

Can you offer us some hope?

Some answers?

Are we SPECIAL to you?

I am the mother who has lost a child.

"Lost". I hate that word.

I haven't lost my child. I know exactly where she is.

She is in the ground. She is gone.

I can't see her... touch her... hear her... hold her.

She isn't lost. She is gone.

But I am lost. Lost in the grief.. the sadness... the numbness.

Part of me has been cut off and I am left with a gaping hole.

Nothing seems to fill it.

Church, I need you to step up and comfort me.

I need you to put your arms around me.

Can you offer me some hope that she isn't lost?

Can you show me some hope that there is something more?

I am the mother.

And I am waiting.

For YOU.

Please don't let me down.