Skip to main content

Defining moments


Reflecting and allowing my soul to quiet
I’ve been living the surreal…and it’s a disorienting place.

Decisions we make set a course – choosing schools, picking who we hang with, jobs, marriages, blah, blah, blah.   Even small picks like what we eat and our sleep habits affect us to varying degrees.  Then, out-of-the-blue, you are smacked with the big stuff – those defining moments that wallop a punch; throwing you into that surrealistic state of not wanting to believe it’s true, that you will wake from the bewildering dream that is reality.  Fortunately, these moments are not the everyday.

This past weekend my family encountered a defining moment – my brother was missing.  The details are not the important part of the experience; the responses are.  We had a desperate need which required ultimate trust. 

The week prior I’d been reading about determined faith – it’s intense.  Now, I needed to live that determination.  My conviction was being pressed; what was coming out?  Trust, doubt, fear and belief; my cocktail was shaken with a dash of bitters and more than a spritz of anxiety. 

I’m overwhelmed and humbled by the behavior of my family.  We prayed with conviction, planned – tapping into each person’s expertise and took action, all while the terror of our hearts screamed.  We came together, united in a cause, driven by love.  We were being pressed to breaking, but the shattered pieces were being reassured with the oil from the press.

All of these reactions were before we knew how the story would end; we couldn’t skip to the last page and remove the unknown.  Life doesn’t allow us to do that and the news is packed with the not-so-happy-endings – fear again creeping up!

My niece’s post on Facebook said, “If you pray please do.  If you don’t please pray anyway.  Our family truly needs every prayer;” an expression of a desperate need in a desperate situation.

Now, 3 days out from the trauma (and happy ending!) I am still reeling in introspection, appreciating the significance of family.  Last Thanksgiving one of my granddaughters prayed, “family together, together.”   Yep, that’s what it’s all about.

Dear God, thank you for your great mercy during perceived fear.   You traded the terror in my heart with ultimate dependence on Your goodness.

Still a bit disoriented, but living in real time…

Missy


If you have been mildly amused, challenged or inspired by what you have read, please pass on my blog to a friend, colleague, family member or even random acquaintance


Comments

  1. you have put into words all of our feelings..God was merciful and our strength ...still not altogether in real time, but much better...Love you...Mom

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. It's very theraputic for me to put words on paper to express a fraction of my emotions. Love you too.

      Delete
  2. Being the cause of this weekend's events, I'm both heart broken that I caused so much fear, and heart warmed to know how much this family cares about each other. I never want to put any of the family or friends through anything like that again and I am taking away one important lesson...let people know how much you love and appreciate them.

    As I was driving home on Sunday I was sickened at the thought that, had I in fact really been missing and/or dead, I would never have the opportunity to tell everyone how much they mean to me. So, my commitment is this: I don't want to let a day go by that I don't tell at least one of my family and friends how I feel about them. So for today, God Bless and thanks.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Baby Brother, I'm doing a skippity do da dance...with a huge dose of reality check. So important to not lose sight of what's most important to us. Besides, what would we do without you being our "mean, hateful, little, deceitful?" Love you!

      Delete
  3. I am really glad there was a happy ending Missy. You had me holding my breath till the end of this story. I don't know what would happen if you were still waiting to hear. Keep holding my breath? Maybe? Those are real and raw emotions from a surreal experience. Glad all is well.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Yes, we were definitely holding our breath. I think I'm beginning to exhale...slowly. Unfortunately, there are many people who experience this and have to wait much longer; and sometimes never have a conclusion. I'm grateful.

      Delete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

lent, not lint

says it all - the grotto It sticks to your clothes and shows up splendidly on black, it gets caught on the screen in the dryer and socks elaborately decorate your toes with the stuff.  Yep, lint:  the fuzzy, ravelings of fabric that cling to everything; like Velcro, only different. Lint actually has a purpose.  By scraping it from linen it can be made into a soft, fleecy fabric.  Cotton staple – lint fibers – are spun into yarn.  While all of this is riveting, especially while staring at the lint in your belly-button, there’s more to Lent than its sound doppelganger. lint: fluffy, minute shreds of yarn lent: a season of preparation These two tiny words sound similar in our vernacular, but have massively different implications in our lives.  We clean-up lint and toss it in the trash.  Lent, however is a prepping time for us to realize we’re not great at cleaning up our own stuff. Lent was originally a season between winter and summer, now called spring.  The s

road tripping: french glen and steens mountain

we took a stinkin' lot of dirt roads, but i wouldn't have it any other way The drive wasn’t long by west coast standards, a mere few of hours; which meant there was plenty of leisure (interpreted coffee time) before leaving on another road trip escapade.  I can’t begin to tell you how much fun it is to pack a bag, gas up the car and set out to see what can be seen. An interesting thing I’ve discovered on these exploits, is that having lived in Oregon for the majority of my life, I’ve missed “seeing” a lot of things. You know, I think we all get into the habit of going to the same places, which is a good thing, but we forget about the “other” places that are right in our own backyards. Case in point, yesterday afternoon, when my darling man and I went to Tumalo Falls. I’ve been to Skyliner Snow Park, but never gone the few more dirt road miles to see the falls. Holy cow! Is that lame, or what? a sweet little place, no frills, but plenty of yesteryear

pebbles

strewn pebbles Walking on the path I noticed the pebbles. I stopped and picked one up, holding it in my hand to feel it’s texture. Tiny and smooth, it felt warm from the sun. Continuing on my walk, the way was scattered with pebbles of different shapes and sizes; some flat and polished, others round and craggy with sharp edges that could cut the skin. I considered the meaning, if any. Some had been sanded to perfection by time and wear. Others recently broken and chipped were harsh, ugly to feel and look at. No matter, all were pebbles; that was fact. Missy If you have been mildly amused, challenged or inspired by what you have read, please pass on my blog to a friend, colleague, family member or even random acquaintance