weathering the storm...

Good morning! Yes, I can actually say that today and mean it, shout it even, "GOOD MORNING!"

That should let you know that I got some much needed sleep last night and, more importantly, I am being carried by a loving, all powerful God who knows that I couldn't take another step on my own.

There is so much going on in my head this morning so bear with me if this post is a little scrambled. I woke up early this morning, in a bed, beside my husband, and didn't panic. I felt peace. "I know she is OK." I took a deep breath and just looked at the sleeping face of my sweet man. It gave me peace to see him at peace.

Time is back in effect this morning. I know it is morning and I am treating it like morning. I showered, dressed, coffee, quiet time. I walked down the hall to take a peek at my girl and was able to meet the new nurses on shift. One change from last night, the nurses politely informed me that I should try to stay away for a while. They did it ever so sweetly, not pushy, very understanding. You see, she knows if we, Nick or myself, are in there, and she fights harder against the sedatives. She wants us so badly that her other senses have kicked it into high gear to compensate for closed eyes. She can smell us, even feel us without touching us. She knows. I knew someone would have to tell me to stay away from her for me to actually stay away from her, so in a way that is God's provision for me to get some rest. Otherwise I would be right there beside her jumping with every beep and hum from the machines. However, even though time is back in my life, I am working hard to not let it control me so much. I didn't put on my watch. I know this sounds minute, but it is a big deal for a schedule driven, type-A mama. Maybe it is time for me to change.

Another thing, I know that we have a literal God, and that sometimes He has a sense of humor, but really, when I changed the blog song to "Bring on the Rain" I didn't mean bring on the tornadoes! Yesterday afternoon I walked my mom to her car and sat outside for a while on the bench in front of Suttons. I was able to hold my head up and muster up some courage. I held my head up and sang two songs. "How great thou art," and yes, I did sound exactly like Carrie Underwood, and "Bring on the rain," because of this one line..."tomorrow's another day and I am not afraid, so bring on the rain." I even stood up to sing it as if the world could hear me and this is my battle cry. But later in the night, when every tv channel was reeling with tornado warnings, "Seek shelter in a safe place. You are in danger," I wasn't so brave. It is a little embarassing, but I'll be honest. I was terrified.

The crazy scenarios came back: This time the electricity went out and the machines that are keeping my girl alive flicker into silence. The windows burst with pressure and Nick and I fling ourselves over Harper to protect her from glass shards. The nurse stands for hours on end pumping life into our little girl with a green air bag. This is what I deal with in my head. Sick.

Our friends Trey and Jessica spent the evening with us in the hospitality room. They had just dropped their two angels off with the grand's when the outbreak of tornadoes began. The four of us sat with our eyes glued to the damned tv screen. Including the nurses we were the only ones visible in our ward. No other visitors or parents to share the fear with. Nick and I took turns checking on our girl, each one of us jumping when the door to the hospitality room opened, only to lock eyes and say, "She is fine. She is OK." In the midst of our fear our sweet friends were wading through their own. The received a call from inside of the laundry room at grandma's house, "We are playing Barbies. We have pizza. We are OK." My dear friend tried to be strong for me in the midst of fear for her own girls. Then we walked to the chapel and sat together looking at the cross and realized we didn't have to be so strong, that someone bigger and stronger is taking care of everything. Shared tears can be the glue of a friendship.

The climax of our evening was when the lights flickered, lightening flashed, and all of the machines beeped in unison. Jess and I darted to the doorway of the chapel panic sticken. The nurses, sensing our fear, darted down the hallway to yell at us, "IT'S FINE! THE GENERATORS KICKED ON. IT IS OK!"

Standing in the doorway of the chapel I know my heart quit beating. My legs buckled and the doorframe and Jessa held me up. I rested my forehead on the doorframe and said to her, "I am going to have a heart attack, Jess. I really think I am." And then our glassy eyes locked and we laughed an insane little chuckle. It was almost manic. Somehow we weathered that storm together and we are all safe this morning. All breathing and moving forward. We ended the night talking about faith and religion and church. And by the time they left fear was gone because faith took over.