Pendants and promises
I'm sitting here waiting on my youngest to finish gymnastics and contemplating the events of this morning. It was a "normal" morning by Koehn standards, everyone running around, trying to get ready for the day. I'm making lunches and feeding breakfast and packing bags. The girls are fighting over who gets to hold the little boy I watch while attempting to get dressed and love on the guinea pigs at the same time.
It's our typical mad-house routine. And in the chaos of everything, I happen to notice my necklace chain lying broken and helpless on the kitchen floor. Said chain usually holds the really nice (and likely expensive) diamond cross pendant my dad gave me for Valentine's Day.
The pendant was nowhere to be found.
Panic set in and I started searching frantically for it everywhere I could think to look: the floor, under the kitchen table, the laundry room (where I had just finished starting a load of laundry), the living room, the bedroom. I even shook my shirt out and felt around in my bra (yes, I really did).
My search came up empty.
Still panicked and with tears in my eyes, I began to enlist the girls' help. This was the third time that stupid chain had broken (the second time that it broke without me doing anything to it), and I was not about to lose that cross because the jeweler did a shoddy repair job.
Searching and searching and searching and nothing.
I went outside to catch my breath and about that time, I happened to notice one of my cardinal friends having breakfast in the feeder. She looked up at me after a few seconds, then flew off into the hedge row.
"Hi, Mom," I uttered softly. "My necklace broke, and my cross pendant is lost. Can you help me find it?"
I do this every so often - ask my mom for help. Whether it's locating certain items or advice in the form of a sign, I still seek her out because I still need her.
So there I was this morning, standing on the back porch, asking my mom to help me find my pendant. I got one last urge to go and check my van. I hadn't been out to the van yet today, but I thought maybe the necklace broke last night, and the pendant came off in the van and the chain hung on until I made it inside.
One could only hope.
Van searched. No pendant.
As I was getting ready to give up for the time being, I looked down and saw a penny underneath the driver's seat.
"Hi, Mom," I uttered again.
And as I bent down to pick up the penny, my cross pendant fell out of my shirt hem and onto the driveway in front of my feet.
Yep.
The same shirt I so violently shook in the kitchen hoping for a pendant to fall out.
I won't pretend that the past 14 months haven't changed me. I'm a pretty open book when it comes to doing this life thing, and I've shared some fairly private posts. I have dealt with a lot of crap this past year, sometimes by myself... but then again, not really.
One thing that hasn't changed is my faith. If anything, it has grown stronger, even in the face of great sadness. I know not everyone can say this when dealing with a profound loss. But, my faith is something I cling to with my whole heart because I choose to believe in the promises made in the Bible.
God knows I still need my mom, and she shows up in the most spectacular ways. I choose to believe this - feel this, live this - because I believe in God and the afterlife. I believe in heaven and angels and spirits. I believe she is out there, watching over me (in the non-creepy sense, of course).
God's running a pretty cool ship, and I'm so blessed to be on it, especially through the storms...
The pendant was nowhere to be found.
Panic set in and I started searching frantically for it everywhere I could think to look: the floor, under the kitchen table, the laundry room (where I had just finished starting a load of laundry), the living room, the bedroom. I even shook my shirt out and felt around in my bra (yes, I really did).
My search came up empty.
Still panicked and with tears in my eyes, I began to enlist the girls' help. This was the third time that stupid chain had broken (the second time that it broke without me doing anything to it), and I was not about to lose that cross because the jeweler did a shoddy repair job.
Searching and searching and searching and nothing.
I went outside to catch my breath and about that time, I happened to notice one of my cardinal friends having breakfast in the feeder. She looked up at me after a few seconds, then flew off into the hedge row.
"Hi, Mom," I uttered softly. "My necklace broke, and my cross pendant is lost. Can you help me find it?"
I do this every so often - ask my mom for help. Whether it's locating certain items or advice in the form of a sign, I still seek her out because I still need her.
So there I was this morning, standing on the back porch, asking my mom to help me find my pendant. I got one last urge to go and check my van. I hadn't been out to the van yet today, but I thought maybe the necklace broke last night, and the pendant came off in the van and the chain hung on until I made it inside.
One could only hope.
Van searched. No pendant.
As I was getting ready to give up for the time being, I looked down and saw a penny underneath the driver's seat.
"Hi, Mom," I uttered again.
And as I bent down to pick up the penny, my cross pendant fell out of my shirt hem and onto the driveway in front of my feet.
Yep.
The same shirt I so violently shook in the kitchen hoping for a pendant to fall out.
I won't pretend that the past 14 months haven't changed me. I'm a pretty open book when it comes to doing this life thing, and I've shared some fairly private posts. I have dealt with a lot of crap this past year, sometimes by myself... but then again, not really.
One thing that hasn't changed is my faith. If anything, it has grown stronger, even in the face of great sadness. I know not everyone can say this when dealing with a profound loss. But, my faith is something I cling to with my whole heart because I choose to believe in the promises made in the Bible.
God knows I still need my mom, and she shows up in the most spectacular ways. I choose to believe this - feel this, live this - because I believe in God and the afterlife. I believe in heaven and angels and spirits. I believe she is out there, watching over me (in the non-creepy sense, of course).
God's running a pretty cool ship, and I'm so blessed to be on it, especially through the storms...
"Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the Lord your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you... The Lord himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged." ~Deuteronomy 31:6, 8
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