Standing Still

 

I am stuck.  I am stuck in my living room in my big red chair and I think I could curl up here forever.  A few weeks ago I drove to Austin for a meeting with the potential to change my life.  I was so nervous my hands were shaking, and when I stopped at a convenient store to put on lipstick, I had to breathe a lot because my hands wouldn’t stop shaking and I could barely put the color on my pale pale lips.  When I got back in my car, still trying to do the deep breaths thing to calm myself down, I felt God speak to me:

This is the path your feet ARE on.

You can walk.

You can stand still.

Or you can turn in circles.

This knowledge was crazy refreshing.  Here I was, and I was on this road.  And I had some choices.  I could walk.  I could stand still.  I could spin in circles.  But turning back was not an option.  I knew exactly what I was supposed to do in that moment.  I was supposed to walk.  I was supposed to walk the path my feet were on with the confidence of someone who knows their feet are on a path.  It was a great moment with Jesus.  It was all I needed and I was walking straight into a meeting that literally was faith shaping for me.  And I got in my car afterward and thought over and over about what Jesus had said.  You can walk, stand still or turn in circles.  Love that my feet are following a Jesus who likes walking.  Because in my mind, really, that was the only viable option for any and all situations.

Today is not a walking kind of day.

Today I am stuck.

Today I am stuck standing still.

That same week I drove to Austin for my walk-on-this-path meeting, we had been given the news that Hooks Baby #5 was on the way.  I think we were the most excited family ever (maybe not, but man we were at least loud about it).  The kids were excited.  Corey was excited.  This was the grand finale.  This was perfect.  This was the path my feet were on, and it was perfect because we were walking it.  Five kids.  The minivan would finally be full.  The house would get cozier.  There would be snuggles over the holidays with a little baby that couldn’t lift up its head yet.  We would have to juggle a few things.  But we have juggled before.  We talked about it like we had won the lottery.  Because we had.  Five kids. 

I woke up over this past weekend with our 15 month old in my bed with his head in my back, his feet in his daddy’s face.  I woke up and looked at my husband sound asleep after a weekend of coaching both his older son’s soccer teams, and sleepovers, and swimming and dinner with wonderful friends.  I woke up and thought inside my completely quiet house, “I am living a dream.”  I woke up and saw all I had all around me, and the baby coming who would be born into the craziest family, and who knows what 2015 could possibly look like because 2014 is not even halfway over and look at us…look at my life. 

And I didn’t even think this is too good to be true.

And I just was happy.

Totally circumstantially happy.

It was one of the best moments ever.

On Tuesday, just a regular old Tuesday, I wrapped up a conversation with a friend about how pregnant I would be while speaking at a gala in October and how pregnant I would be at my 20^th reunion in September, and we laughed at me being old and pregnant.  And then it was over.  Just like that things completely changed and my path took a nosedive.  And she was picking up my kids from school, and I was calling my mom.  And calling Corey trying to get the words out.  And heading to the doctor.  And it was over.  There was no more heartbeat.  There was no more Hooks Baby #5.  There was no more grand finale. 

And I found myself heartbroken in an elevator.

Standing still on my path.

And I haven’t moved yet.

I’m just standing.

 

Wednesday morning I woke up early.  I sat on my big grey couch with the softest pink blanket and read Psalm 34:18 over and over.  Jude, my 9 year old, came downstairs before anyone else was awake and asked what I was doing.  I told him I was thinking about Baby #5 and reading the Bible and talking to Jesus.  He asked if I felt better and I told him not yet.  I told him I was standing in this one passage from the Bible, and that I would probably stand there all day.

“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted

And saves those who are crushed in spirit.”  (Psalm 34:18)

As Jude inched his way under the blanket he said, “The Lord is close to me and the Lord is close to you too mom because my heart is broken and so is yours.”  And the Lord was so close to me and my Jude as I sobbed under that blanket. 

So these words are an invitation.  Come join me as I stand still for awhile on my path.  Come join me as I stand in a place because my feet won’t move, and I can only guarantee you one thing, y’all, I can guarantee that the Lord is close…My path might be filled with lots of ugly, shoulder shaking sobs today, but God is near me.  Come stand by me and my Jesus.  Lend me a prayer.  I need one.  Lend me a shoulder because this standing still doesn’t come so easy to us walking folk.  And I don’t know how long I’m going to stand here missing what could have been….but for the rest of today and possibly tomorrow and the next day too you can find me on my same good path with Jesus and we’re just taking a breather today.  And you can come take a breather too.  There’s room on the big red chair.

 

Shalom Y’all.