Monday, May 18, 2009


family and music

For some reason, after all of the flooding rain and high wind we've had recently, my house has started to make some new creaking noises. It is taking me some time to get used to them.

When you move into new surroundings, there is always that period of time, where you learn what settling noises your house likes to make. Kind of like it is talking to you as you try to drift off to sleep at night. It's pretty much like drinking a cup of coffee an hour or so before bed time. You lay there pleading for sleep to come, and noises to go.

I thought this honeymoon with our house was over.

Ours has started over with some new ones. I am not a fan.

I am a creature of habit. I liked the old noises. I like to know what to expect and do not always do very well when routines get broken.


Deanna and I have a morning routine. We usually get up around the same time. She jumps into the shower and I go make coffee. We go on getting ready for the day, which includes, study time, writing, some discussion, and getting ready to leave for work.

This morning was a bit different. I came to the computer and had absolutely nothing to say. After checking e-mail, I headed to the shower. By this time, Deanna was nearly ready. She kissed me goodbye, and headed off.

After showering, I turned on the iron and the news, chose my clothes, and began to prepare them.

After pressing my shirt, and tying my shoes I turned to head down the hall toward the garage.

I heard a footstep.

My pulse began to race.

This was not the type of step that was trying to be stealthy, but a loud purposeful step. It took my breath away.

I began to speed down the hall, and could see light penetrating through the front windows, casting a shadow of movement where the hall spilled into the entryway. I could feel my heart beating in my head.

I called out..."Hello!"

I think my voice was mixed with anger, surprise and fear.

No response.

Who was this and how had they gotten into the house? They must have broken in while I was in the shower.

The movement continued.

Suddenly, I realized I had no weapon for protection! Just me and a long narrow hallway... kind of like the shooting lanes at an indoor firing range...only I was the paper target.

Then around the corner came the tiny little frame of my high school, teenaged sized wife.

She finally forced out, "it's me."

Too late, my pulse was already traveling the speed of light...I was heaving for breath...my body thought I'd just finished a marathon.

"I decided to stay and check my e-mail before I went to work," she offered calmly.

My bladder was prepared to spill my morning coffee onto the hall floor!!!

Somehow, I usually know when she does this. Today was different for some reason.

I do not like the level of fear and surprise I experienced. Yes, relief flooded in after realizing who was there, but it took my heart a long time to stop pumping enough blood for the two of us... I'm still breathing heavy!


I have seen this kind of fear in the lives of others. Usually at funerals of non-believers. It is a very sad thing to know that people do not have the security of knowledge in where they are headed upon death. This fear preys upon them when they lose a loved one.

It is one of the most difficult places to be... present where you want to offer enouragement and support, but you feel a sense of abiding hopelessness for them.

Interestingly, this can be one of the best times, if you wait upon the Lord and look for open doors, to find out what the other person thinks or believes about God and a relationship with Him.

I don't mean engaging them at the funeral (I tried that once...not a good plan). I'm talking about being sensitive in the days after, and trying to schedule time to meet them for coffee, to see how you might be able to help. I mean, going beyond, "let me know if we can do anything for you," and actually taking an active interest in meeting the most obvious need.

God uses the times of brokenness like these, in the lives of those He is trying to draw to Him. We can help by being intentional in reaching out to them.


Okay, my pulse is nearly back to normal.

I'm thinking of getting my bride one of those kitty bells to put on a necklace, so I will know where she is...


brent

3 Comments:

At 1:49 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Oh my! You really made me laugh at the end with the Kitty Bell for Deanna. Up until then I was very in tune with what you were writing.

 
At 11:08 PM, Blogger autumnvorgann said...

Hi Brent. Thanks for the laughter at the end, although that probably wasn't your intent. I've enjoyed reading the blogs and seeing how committed you and your family are in serving our awesome God. I read, I Would Die For You, last year and have since followed this blog and felt like I've gotten a glimpse of your family.

Actually, just recently you met my friend over Spring Break for the mission trip in Nuevo Laredo. I emailed her right before she boarded the plane to Laredo to see if she could send my greetings to you and Deanna. Her name is Tracy. She had an amazing experience, certainly life changing! I loved hearing what the team witnessed and that they, too, were witnessing at the same time.

 
At 6:09 PM, Anonymous Andrew said...

This made me laugh at some points, but also left an impact(as your family's story also has) on my heart.

~A fellow runner in this race~
God bless,
Andrew

 

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