Lyrics from Sanctus Real
I bow my head to pray, I don't know what to say
I'm not sure how to fix the things I'm dealing with
I'm in a desperate place, I need to share the weight
But I just don't know how, to let it all pour out
Though I'm silent, my heart is crying
Cause I was made to come to You
So I pray
God I need You more than words can say
Right here in this moment
You know my heart, You know my need
You know every part of me
So even if it's just to speak Your name
I'm gonna pray
I failed to find the time, but You've been calling out
I let the days go by as if I could live without
But it's gotta be here now, I won't be pulled away
Cause it's just You and I, so let the world around us fade
As I pray
God I need You more than words can say
Right here in this moment
You know my heart, You know my need
You know every part of me
So even if it's just to speak Your name
I'm gonna pray
I'm gonna pray
(Father)
Will You meet me here right now?
(Father)
I surrender, lay it down
(Father)
And every time I close my eyes
I know that I was made
To lift my hands and pray
I lift my hands and pray
You know my heart, You know my need
And every single part of me
So even if it's just to speak Your name
I'm gonna pray
I'm gonna pray
You know my heart, You know my need
You know every part of me
More than words, You are my life
Take it as an offering
Friday, June 28, 2013
Tuesday, June 25, 2013
The Truth
Part Three.
Just to reiterate where my heart falls regarding marriage, when I said I do it was with the intentions that our marriage would directly illustrate the love between Christ and the Church.
Coming home to find dinner on the table, the house swept and cleaned, the laundry washed and dried, and a husband with outstretched arms-my husband is an incredible provider. He not only gets up at the crack of dawn to go to work, but he comes home and tends to the house (inside and out). He helps provide for us financially and maintain my sanity by keeping up with the chores I rarely have time to do. This, in itself, would be a girl's dream come true.
However, as someone that is deeply grounded in traditional views, I constantly find myself struggling with the idea that I am not doing "my part". True, my husband has never once complained or asked more of me. In fact, on my afternoon off early yesterday he specifically asked me to rest rather than worry about cleaning.
No, it isn't just the expectation that I would like to be little miss homemaker-taking care of the house and kids while having dinner on the table when hubby comes home from work (in a suit/tie, briefcase in hand). No, it isn't just the thought that it would be nice to not have to be pulling extra hours and bending over backwards. Contrary to what people may think, my biggest frustration with not being able to pull my weight in the household has to do with something much bigger than myself.
I can only imagine how it breaks God's heart every time someone chooses to go to a little league game over helping disciple baby Christians on the weekend. I can picture his sadness when someone commits to going into work (for the seventh day in a row) and Church is put on the back burner, again. It wears me down to think that a family has dinner in their separate rooms because they have "too much to do" between work and homework that evening to worry about talking together. I think about how upsetting it would be to be the Lord of creation, paint the most beautiful sunrise the world has ever seen, and someone be so rushed that morning-running late-that they forget to thank God for His beauty.
Back to my point. Every single time I put my agenda ahead of my family's, I am saying that it is okay to put my husband on the sidelines. I am telling the world that it is okay to continue living in a hurry and forget to praise God that day-because your boss asked you to come into work. I am saying that it is okay for a person to make God second, or third in their life because bills have to be paid (and that money means more than that relationship). And, each and every time I allow complacency into my life...thinking it is okay for me to selflessly continue to accept each of the blessings my husband gives me without stopping to carry some of the burden...I am saying that it is okay to continue taking for granted the love/mercy/grace/salvation that God has offered us.
No, it is not 'okay'.
I pray that those out there will see that today I am taking the step in our marriage to put my husband ahead of my job, my friends, my plans and my wants. Today, I am taking a step of faith that Christ will be the center of our marriage, and that my love for my husband will resonate into the lives of those around me to see-it is not okay to continue thinking that it is an option to spend time with the God of the Universe. In fact, he has been with you all along.
Just to reiterate where my heart falls regarding marriage, when I said I do it was with the intentions that our marriage would directly illustrate the love between Christ and the Church.
Coming home to find dinner on the table, the house swept and cleaned, the laundry washed and dried, and a husband with outstretched arms-my husband is an incredible provider. He not only gets up at the crack of dawn to go to work, but he comes home and tends to the house (inside and out). He helps provide for us financially and maintain my sanity by keeping up with the chores I rarely have time to do. This, in itself, would be a girl's dream come true.
However, as someone that is deeply grounded in traditional views, I constantly find myself struggling with the idea that I am not doing "my part". True, my husband has never once complained or asked more of me. In fact, on my afternoon off early yesterday he specifically asked me to rest rather than worry about cleaning.
No, it isn't just the expectation that I would like to be little miss homemaker-taking care of the house and kids while having dinner on the table when hubby comes home from work (in a suit/tie, briefcase in hand). No, it isn't just the thought that it would be nice to not have to be pulling extra hours and bending over backwards. Contrary to what people may think, my biggest frustration with not being able to pull my weight in the household has to do with something much bigger than myself.
I can only imagine how it breaks God's heart every time someone chooses to go to a little league game over helping disciple baby Christians on the weekend. I can picture his sadness when someone commits to going into work (for the seventh day in a row) and Church is put on the back burner, again. It wears me down to think that a family has dinner in their separate rooms because they have "too much to do" between work and homework that evening to worry about talking together. I think about how upsetting it would be to be the Lord of creation, paint the most beautiful sunrise the world has ever seen, and someone be so rushed that morning-running late-that they forget to thank God for His beauty.
Back to my point. Every single time I put my agenda ahead of my family's, I am saying that it is okay to put my husband on the sidelines. I am telling the world that it is okay to continue living in a hurry and forget to praise God that day-because your boss asked you to come into work. I am saying that it is okay for a person to make God second, or third in their life because bills have to be paid (and that money means more than that relationship). And, each and every time I allow complacency into my life...thinking it is okay for me to selflessly continue to accept each of the blessings my husband gives me without stopping to carry some of the burden...I am saying that it is okay to continue taking for granted the love/mercy/grace/salvation that God has offered us.
No, it is not 'okay'.
I pray that those out there will see that today I am taking the step in our marriage to put my husband ahead of my job, my friends, my plans and my wants. Today, I am taking a step of faith that Christ will be the center of our marriage, and that my love for my husband will resonate into the lives of those around me to see-it is not okay to continue thinking that it is an option to spend time with the God of the Universe. In fact, he has been with you all along.
The Plea
Part Two.
When I said I do it was with the intentions that our marriage would directly illustrate the love between Christ and the Church.
I would be lying if I said that my perception of marriage was always this way. Just as His people are sin-filled and undeserving, I had come with a lot of baggage and mistakes. When my husband and I started dating, I was less than perfect. I selfishly clung to the things of my past, to the security of what was certain. I wanted so badly to be loved, but struggled with the concept that anyone would ever want me. If only I had a ring on my finger, then I might feel like someone wanted me. If only I were married, then they couldn't leave me. If only I could have a child, then they would stay with me.
Over the years, the Lord managed to prove to me just how wrong I truly was about what I thought was certainty. The only thing I knew to be true was that someone did love me. I didn't need a ring on my finger to prove their love-they layed down their life for me. Even without the commitment on my part, they loved me unconditionally. Even if I could never bless them with a child, I was the person they would take care of until my dying breath. It was in the final moments of desperation that I realized it was not about me at all.
In the time leading up to this realization, I had managed to taint the reputation I worked so strongly to have. As a young Christian, I wanted nothing more than to shout my testimony from the rooftop to lead others to Christ. Through my actions as an adult, however, I spoke otherwise.
It would be wrong to blame the downhill spiral of relationships on anyone but myself. I allowed myself to be compromised, I hid the truth from those I was close to, I exposed myself as someone that I promised I would never be, and in the end I hurt them just as much as they hurt me.
Even at the beginning of our relationship, I made decisions in my relationship with my husband that compromised his trust. Standing at a crossroads one fall, it was up to me to continue going down the path I knew was comfortable or do something different.
It was in slow motion as I sat in the quiet. It took me back to a busy street on a cold night. The lights changed from green to red as the signs ahead told me where to go.
Don't walk, run.
This time, rather than running into the arms of someone to hold me-I reached out for the one that could catch me at my lowest of my lows-my Savior. The decisions I made that year not only did wrong by my husband, but hurt those around me in the process. I strongly believe that I will forever be saddened at the thought of how much pain my selfishness caused those I loved. Forgiveness is all I can ask from them.
When I said I do it was with the intentions that our marriage would directly illustrate the love between Christ and the Church.
I would be lying if I said that my perception of marriage was always this way. Just as His people are sin-filled and undeserving, I had come with a lot of baggage and mistakes. When my husband and I started dating, I was less than perfect. I selfishly clung to the things of my past, to the security of what was certain. I wanted so badly to be loved, but struggled with the concept that anyone would ever want me. If only I had a ring on my finger, then I might feel like someone wanted me. If only I were married, then they couldn't leave me. If only I could have a child, then they would stay with me.
Over the years, the Lord managed to prove to me just how wrong I truly was about what I thought was certainty. The only thing I knew to be true was that someone did love me. I didn't need a ring on my finger to prove their love-they layed down their life for me. Even without the commitment on my part, they loved me unconditionally. Even if I could never bless them with a child, I was the person they would take care of until my dying breath. It was in the final moments of desperation that I realized it was not about me at all.
In the time leading up to this realization, I had managed to taint the reputation I worked so strongly to have. As a young Christian, I wanted nothing more than to shout my testimony from the rooftop to lead others to Christ. Through my actions as an adult, however, I spoke otherwise.
It would be wrong to blame the downhill spiral of relationships on anyone but myself. I allowed myself to be compromised, I hid the truth from those I was close to, I exposed myself as someone that I promised I would never be, and in the end I hurt them just as much as they hurt me.
Even at the beginning of our relationship, I made decisions in my relationship with my husband that compromised his trust. Standing at a crossroads one fall, it was up to me to continue going down the path I knew was comfortable or do something different.
It was in slow motion as I sat in the quiet. It took me back to a busy street on a cold night. The lights changed from green to red as the signs ahead told me where to go.
Don't walk, run.
This time, rather than running into the arms of someone to hold me-I reached out for the one that could catch me at my lowest of my lows-my Savior. The decisions I made that year not only did wrong by my husband, but hurt those around me in the process. I strongly believe that I will forever be saddened at the thought of how much pain my selfishness caused those I loved. Forgiveness is all I can ask from them.
The Struggle
Part One.
I often struggle with the competing values I face on a daily basis. On one hand, I have the reality of "what I do" versus the mentality of "what I should be doing".
Every day, I have the honor of serving others by helping to bless their marriage/relationship. I meet with approximately 60 of my "own" couples-reinforcing curriculum that I have specifically been trained and certified in. We meet in office visit rooms as we go over tools that can better equip them with the knowledge of how to resolve conflict and maintain a positive relationship through the birth of their child. We set up birth plans and discuss infant cues to help them understand their parenting role. The couples receive my services free of charge-no obstacles. Don't get me wrong...I love my job.
I love the "ah-ha" moments that come across an individual's face when they finally realize the real reason they have been fighting. I love seeing the journey they embark on together to resolve those problems and become stronger in doing so. I love knowing that I have watched some of the best couples become better-and the worst couples become great. I have seen the jobless/homeless/helpless turn their lives around. I have witnessed the abused feel love, and the addicted be set free. I have seen some of the most well-to-do couples open up as they disclose the fact that material things mean nothing when their relationship is lacking affection and passion. My experiences become a testimony to those around me. I too have felt the heartache and pain. I have made mistakes that I cannot take back. I have focused more on the perception of others rather than what I really felt in my heart.
Not to mention-I have witnessed the birth of more babies than I can count, and grieved the loss of those that were taken home sooner than expected. I have consoled the broken hearted and offered a shoulder to lean on when they can't seem to get up. And, let me tell you right now, when I stand in front of a crowd of couples and teach something I am so deeply grounded in...I am in my element.
You see...as much as I love my job, I cannot help but feel the tug at my heart that I am not where I need to be.
I often feel like I'm either whining about the same old things, or rejoicing about how God has brought us through them. However, the past several months have been anything but easy. Working 50 hour work weeks, pulling twelve hour days-teaching late at night, getting home at 10pm without spending any time with my husband and waking up to leave early the next day, being required to come in on weekends to "meet my couple's needs", keeping up with personal matters, spending the little time we have left with family/friends, and managing our own needs-which typically gets pushed to the side. I am definitely feeling the pressures of what everyone around me says is normal.
Let me just say this-I don't want to be normal anymore. I am not the poster child for the latest Wonder Woman campaign, nor do I feel I should be. I am human. I cannot do a million and one things because of this. I am the last person to want to do things half-heartedly and with all of the responsibilities I have been given I can't seem to get them all done to everyone's satisfaction.
My dream in life has always been to be a stay-at-home mom. I was so very blessed for my momma to have a flexible job where she could still be involved in each of our endeavors. She was always there when we needed her and managed to cook, clean, and play with us. She was Wonder Woman.
With our personal struggle with fertility problems, my dream in life was cut short when we first got married and disappointment became a reality. Medical debt piled up and we stretched every dime to pay for the next doctor's visit. We started going without-cutting back on "doing things" and started planning how to get ahead. My husband's goal of starting back to school and finding a career he loved was trumped by the little white envelopes showing up every month. What little money we saved went towards the bills or next mishap. Our home flooding, plumbling problems, hail damage, blown out tires, a new car, and yes-the last surgery.
When we committed to intercountry adoption, we knew the expense we were signing ourselves up for. We budgeted accordingly to make sure we put money aside each month-untouched. We estimated how long it would take and I started brainstorming how other parents had done the monstrous task. What we did not consider, however, was the fact that plans change. My health continued to decline and we decided we needed to get away together. Not just for a break, but to help revive our marriage and help our bodies heal.
Our short-lived vacation was anything but relaxing. Our seventeen hour drive (one-way) proved to be just as exhausting as our work days. There was the constant reminder of finances as we arrived at the hotel and realized eating out was not an option. The trip, however, did provide me with a lot of thinking time.
During that time (and every moment of the days since then), I continue to feel the urgency that something in our lives has to change. And, while sitting in church Sunday morning, my feelings were confirmed as the preacher spoke straight to me. Compelled by the Spirit, not knowing where to go...I am certain that God has other plans for my life. With lots of prayers and questions, I ask for Him to show me where to take the first step.
Just like a lamp only reveals the few feet in front of me, I am not certain of the path I will be on. I will, however, commit to taking a step towards my destiny by stepping away from the security that binds me here.
I often struggle with the competing values I face on a daily basis. On one hand, I have the reality of "what I do" versus the mentality of "what I should be doing".
Every day, I have the honor of serving others by helping to bless their marriage/relationship. I meet with approximately 60 of my "own" couples-reinforcing curriculum that I have specifically been trained and certified in. We meet in office visit rooms as we go over tools that can better equip them with the knowledge of how to resolve conflict and maintain a positive relationship through the birth of their child. We set up birth plans and discuss infant cues to help them understand their parenting role. The couples receive my services free of charge-no obstacles. Don't get me wrong...I love my job.
I love the "ah-ha" moments that come across an individual's face when they finally realize the real reason they have been fighting. I love seeing the journey they embark on together to resolve those problems and become stronger in doing so. I love knowing that I have watched some of the best couples become better-and the worst couples become great. I have seen the jobless/homeless/helpless turn their lives around. I have witnessed the abused feel love, and the addicted be set free. I have seen some of the most well-to-do couples open up as they disclose the fact that material things mean nothing when their relationship is lacking affection and passion. My experiences become a testimony to those around me. I too have felt the heartache and pain. I have made mistakes that I cannot take back. I have focused more on the perception of others rather than what I really felt in my heart.
Not to mention-I have witnessed the birth of more babies than I can count, and grieved the loss of those that were taken home sooner than expected. I have consoled the broken hearted and offered a shoulder to lean on when they can't seem to get up. And, let me tell you right now, when I stand in front of a crowd of couples and teach something I am so deeply grounded in...I am in my element.
You see...as much as I love my job, I cannot help but feel the tug at my heart that I am not where I need to be.
I often feel like I'm either whining about the same old things, or rejoicing about how God has brought us through them. However, the past several months have been anything but easy. Working 50 hour work weeks, pulling twelve hour days-teaching late at night, getting home at 10pm without spending any time with my husband and waking up to leave early the next day, being required to come in on weekends to "meet my couple's needs", keeping up with personal matters, spending the little time we have left with family/friends, and managing our own needs-which typically gets pushed to the side. I am definitely feeling the pressures of what everyone around me says is normal.
Let me just say this-I don't want to be normal anymore. I am not the poster child for the latest Wonder Woman campaign, nor do I feel I should be. I am human. I cannot do a million and one things because of this. I am the last person to want to do things half-heartedly and with all of the responsibilities I have been given I can't seem to get them all done to everyone's satisfaction.
My dream in life has always been to be a stay-at-home mom. I was so very blessed for my momma to have a flexible job where she could still be involved in each of our endeavors. She was always there when we needed her and managed to cook, clean, and play with us. She was Wonder Woman.
With our personal struggle with fertility problems, my dream in life was cut short when we first got married and disappointment became a reality. Medical debt piled up and we stretched every dime to pay for the next doctor's visit. We started going without-cutting back on "doing things" and started planning how to get ahead. My husband's goal of starting back to school and finding a career he loved was trumped by the little white envelopes showing up every month. What little money we saved went towards the bills or next mishap. Our home flooding, plumbling problems, hail damage, blown out tires, a new car, and yes-the last surgery.
When we committed to intercountry adoption, we knew the expense we were signing ourselves up for. We budgeted accordingly to make sure we put money aside each month-untouched. We estimated how long it would take and I started brainstorming how other parents had done the monstrous task. What we did not consider, however, was the fact that plans change. My health continued to decline and we decided we needed to get away together. Not just for a break, but to help revive our marriage and help our bodies heal.
Our short-lived vacation was anything but relaxing. Our seventeen hour drive (one-way) proved to be just as exhausting as our work days. There was the constant reminder of finances as we arrived at the hotel and realized eating out was not an option. The trip, however, did provide me with a lot of thinking time.
During that time (and every moment of the days since then), I continue to feel the urgency that something in our lives has to change. And, while sitting in church Sunday morning, my feelings were confirmed as the preacher spoke straight to me. Compelled by the Spirit, not knowing where to go...I am certain that God has other plans for my life. With lots of prayers and questions, I ask for Him to show me where to take the first step.
Just like a lamp only reveals the few feet in front of me, I am not certain of the path I will be on. I will, however, commit to taking a step towards my destiny by stepping away from the security that binds me here.
Tuesday, June 11, 2013
Day 724, A Whirlwind
For those of you that follow me on pinterest, I am certain you can tell by the overwhelming amount of new pins that I have had a little extra free time on my hands. Yes, I am officially recovering from my surgery.
Thursday, May 30th, I woke up early (as if I could sleep much when I knew I was about to be cut open) and headed to the surgery center. With mixed times from the doctor's office and the surgery center, we showed up at 7:30am (just to be sure). They took my insurance information, verified the correct info on file, and took me back shortly to be prepped. Hubby was amazingly supportive. He held my hand as they poked and prodded and helped get me in my hospital gear.
My first nurse was Marilyn. She was the sweetest and only had to poke once to get my IV in! She kept us company and discussed the previous week's tornado to pass the time. She prepared me for who all would be involved in the process and made sure I was comfy with fresh warm blankets.
After a while, two anesthesiologists made their way to my bed side and asked a million questions to make sure they knew everything about my history to help me be comfortable. After a terrible experience with a previous surgery, I told them my concerns and they put my mind to ease. The nurse anaesthetist would also be there to care for me if anything needed to be changed.
Then came the "regular nurse". Her name was Paula and she explained everything they had scheduled for the procedure. I began to feel a little queasy with the details, but she was very helpful and stated the doctor would be in shortly.
My doctor was more than great. He discussed everything, gave me the opportunity to ask questions, and addressed some serious questions in case it came down to the worst. Finally his resident came in and let me know he would be back with me.
Before I knew it, I was waking up (a little nauseous) and hurrying along to go home. I was a little faint, but they gave me something to help settle my stomach and rolled me to the car.
The first day I was in-and-out of it-mostly keeping myself comfortable as hubby and my mom would come in to take my temperature, give me fluids and medicine, and make sure I was doing okay. Knowing that hubby was going back to work the next day, I stayed at my parents' house so they could keep an eye on me.
Then, Friday came. Momma helped me get up & down and walked me into the living room to try to sit me up. I slept off and on again while watching tv and talking to her. It wasn't until about 2/3pm that things went from normal to terrible. The news broke in and said people were getting off of work early and preparing for a storm moving in. With characteristics of the May 20th tornado in Moore, OK just a week prior, they prepared us for the worst. I spoke to my husband as he got off work and asked him to get the dogs and hurry over to my parents' as soon as he could so we wouldn't be separated. My sister, future brother-in-law, and niece were all there when it rolled in.
We took cover in the hallway as I managed to get myself down on the floor (in my pajamas and barefoot) and put the mattress over us. My sweet niece stuck my daddy's bike helmet on me as the sirens began to sound. We braced ourselves for the worst and took pictures off the wall as we heard the news state it was hitting El Reno and was due to arrive in approximately 20minutes.
Just as calm as could be, my daddy walked into the hall with the rest of the family as he stated we needed to go. The news was stating if we weren't underground, we wouldn't make it. We had to get as far South as possible.
Now, I have to admit a few things that were happening at this point: 1)I was on pain medicine and not necessarily in my right frame of mind, 2)I was still in my pjs and barefoot, 3)I was totally against leaving the house, and 4)I was screaming at my poor husband that he was taking me against my will as he helped me get into the car with our three fur babies.
That was when we did the dumbest thing we could have ever done-we split up.
Thinking we could simply get in our vehicles, drive down towards Tuttle past Mustang, and rescue ourselves and cars from any damage-we split up.
We were in my car, my momma was in her car, my daddy was in his pickup truck, and my sister was in her fiance's truck with my niece. As we rounded the corner to get out of the neighborhood (might I remind you that the sirens are going off at this point and we had approximately 16minutes before it was going to hit) we were met with bumper-to-bumper traffic and our plans stopped.
At this point the tears worsened as I panicked and began dialing my family's phones to get ahold of someone, anyone.
Nothing.
We made it to the stoplight where we were to make a very important decision: turn South and hope we end up past this tornado, go straight and pray we make it to my grandparents' shelter in time before it comes.
We chose to go straight.
Unfortunately, my family made the other choice and once again we were split up (now in different directions) with minutes counting down. As I got ahold of my sister, I talked them into going to my grandparents' house (knowing the worst place we could be is on the road getting swept up like a feather). Once at their house, we took cover with the other people from their church that took advantage of their large cellar. We continued to try to get in touch with my parents as we anxiously listened to the weather radio and large hail pelting overhead. Water seeped in through the sides as the ground began to get wet. It was headed straight towards us and seemed to be following the same route as my parents.
Let me just say, every detail of that night still haunts me. It feels like a whirlwind of pain just thinking about the fact that I could have lost my parents-something that too many people in that storm know all too well. I couldn't keep my composure. I couldn't stop crying. Most importantly, I could not stop praying for God to protect my family and watch over them on the roads.
Please, please, please...
Momma and Daddy ended up halfway under an overpass in Moore, OK as the tornado tossed small debris through the air in front of them. Then, they faced the flooding waters as they trecked back home through trecherous waters.
We stayed at Gramma and Pawpaw's for a little while before making the journey ourselves to get back to the house. The uncertainty of what was ahead was nothing compared to the fear we had when we echoed "I love you" over and over while on the phone with my parents thinking we might never hear their voices again.
The roads were awful and the hail had yet to pass but once at their house, the electricity was on and the house seemed untouched. Thank God.
Momma and Daddy arrived at home close to midnight and all I could do was cry in relief as I hugged their necks.
A few busted stitches and an aching pain is something I will take any day of the week to know my family is safe. Thank you, Lord for keeping us all safe. I am so blessed.
Thursday, May 30th, I woke up early (as if I could sleep much when I knew I was about to be cut open) and headed to the surgery center. With mixed times from the doctor's office and the surgery center, we showed up at 7:30am (just to be sure). They took my insurance information, verified the correct info on file, and took me back shortly to be prepped. Hubby was amazingly supportive. He held my hand as they poked and prodded and helped get me in my hospital gear.
My first nurse was Marilyn. She was the sweetest and only had to poke once to get my IV in! She kept us company and discussed the previous week's tornado to pass the time. She prepared me for who all would be involved in the process and made sure I was comfy with fresh warm blankets.
After a while, two anesthesiologists made their way to my bed side and asked a million questions to make sure they knew everything about my history to help me be comfortable. After a terrible experience with a previous surgery, I told them my concerns and they put my mind to ease. The nurse anaesthetist would also be there to care for me if anything needed to be changed.
Then came the "regular nurse". Her name was Paula and she explained everything they had scheduled for the procedure. I began to feel a little queasy with the details, but she was very helpful and stated the doctor would be in shortly.
My doctor was more than great. He discussed everything, gave me the opportunity to ask questions, and addressed some serious questions in case it came down to the worst. Finally his resident came in and let me know he would be back with me.
Before I knew it, I was waking up (a little nauseous) and hurrying along to go home. I was a little faint, but they gave me something to help settle my stomach and rolled me to the car.
The first day I was in-and-out of it-mostly keeping myself comfortable as hubby and my mom would come in to take my temperature, give me fluids and medicine, and make sure I was doing okay. Knowing that hubby was going back to work the next day, I stayed at my parents' house so they could keep an eye on me.
Then, Friday came. Momma helped me get up & down and walked me into the living room to try to sit me up. I slept off and on again while watching tv and talking to her. It wasn't until about 2/3pm that things went from normal to terrible. The news broke in and said people were getting off of work early and preparing for a storm moving in. With characteristics of the May 20th tornado in Moore, OK just a week prior, they prepared us for the worst. I spoke to my husband as he got off work and asked him to get the dogs and hurry over to my parents' as soon as he could so we wouldn't be separated. My sister, future brother-in-law, and niece were all there when it rolled in.
We took cover in the hallway as I managed to get myself down on the floor (in my pajamas and barefoot) and put the mattress over us. My sweet niece stuck my daddy's bike helmet on me as the sirens began to sound. We braced ourselves for the worst and took pictures off the wall as we heard the news state it was hitting El Reno and was due to arrive in approximately 20minutes.
Just as calm as could be, my daddy walked into the hall with the rest of the family as he stated we needed to go. The news was stating if we weren't underground, we wouldn't make it. We had to get as far South as possible.
Now, I have to admit a few things that were happening at this point: 1)I was on pain medicine and not necessarily in my right frame of mind, 2)I was still in my pjs and barefoot, 3)I was totally against leaving the house, and 4)I was screaming at my poor husband that he was taking me against my will as he helped me get into the car with our three fur babies.
That was when we did the dumbest thing we could have ever done-we split up.
Thinking we could simply get in our vehicles, drive down towards Tuttle past Mustang, and rescue ourselves and cars from any damage-we split up.
We were in my car, my momma was in her car, my daddy was in his pickup truck, and my sister was in her fiance's truck with my niece. As we rounded the corner to get out of the neighborhood (might I remind you that the sirens are going off at this point and we had approximately 16minutes before it was going to hit) we were met with bumper-to-bumper traffic and our plans stopped.
At this point the tears worsened as I panicked and began dialing my family's phones to get ahold of someone, anyone.
Nothing.
We made it to the stoplight where we were to make a very important decision: turn South and hope we end up past this tornado, go straight and pray we make it to my grandparents' shelter in time before it comes.
We chose to go straight.
Unfortunately, my family made the other choice and once again we were split up (now in different directions) with minutes counting down. As I got ahold of my sister, I talked them into going to my grandparents' house (knowing the worst place we could be is on the road getting swept up like a feather). Once at their house, we took cover with the other people from their church that took advantage of their large cellar. We continued to try to get in touch with my parents as we anxiously listened to the weather radio and large hail pelting overhead. Water seeped in through the sides as the ground began to get wet. It was headed straight towards us and seemed to be following the same route as my parents.
Let me just say, every detail of that night still haunts me. It feels like a whirlwind of pain just thinking about the fact that I could have lost my parents-something that too many people in that storm know all too well. I couldn't keep my composure. I couldn't stop crying. Most importantly, I could not stop praying for God to protect my family and watch over them on the roads.
Please, please, please...
Momma and Daddy ended up halfway under an overpass in Moore, OK as the tornado tossed small debris through the air in front of them. Then, they faced the flooding waters as they trecked back home through trecherous waters.
We stayed at Gramma and Pawpaw's for a little while before making the journey ourselves to get back to the house. The uncertainty of what was ahead was nothing compared to the fear we had when we echoed "I love you" over and over while on the phone with my parents thinking we might never hear their voices again.
The roads were awful and the hail had yet to pass but once at their house, the electricity was on and the house seemed untouched. Thank God.
Momma and Daddy arrived at home close to midnight and all I could do was cry in relief as I hugged their necks.
A few busted stitches and an aching pain is something I will take any day of the week to know my family is safe. Thank you, Lord for keeping us all safe. I am so blessed.
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