So. Much. Throw Up.

I think the count is 12 and we are still in the air. We woke up at 4am to get to our 6:50 flight. Andrew woke up exhausted and not in the best of moods. Standing in line to check our bags he says his tummy hurts. I think he’s just hungry but before you know it, vomit is spewing forth all over the floor by the ticket counter line. 1, 2, 3 times… we are trying to catch it, trying to move him to the side and trying to move forward in the line. People are looking on in horror and then proceed to cut in front of us in this very long line. I was honestly thinking it was motion sickness from the car so I thought we were done. While we stood in line at TSA, he looked green. Joy stepped through the metal detector and as I followed and went through, I look back to see him puking 1, 2, 3 times all over the floor. I can’t go back, and Steven is left to handle the aftermath. We shut down 2 TSA lines, left side and right side of this wet floor. Also, since Steven took off his sweatshirt - they made him run it through the scanner. They then let Andrew through but not Steven because “they don’t want him to walk through vomit.” Standing at the metal detector in his socks - they tell Steven to use another line that is still open and the only way there is through the vomit (again in his socks). Steven finally gets through but they end up pulling two of our bags because of our frozen elk meat and my jar of apple sauce, and as we stand there waiting for them to give us the go ahead, he throws up another couple times for good measure (We we’re fortunate this time though- a kind TSA agent gave us a grocery bag. And also hand sanitizer!) We get on the train to get to terminal A - which didn’t help the motion, but we finally make it to our gate. We sit, take a breather and finally get in line for the plane. We got the nazi of Frontier agents so we had to each put our bag in the box to make sure it counted as a personal item. As we were doing that, Andrew throws up some more. I really thought the lady wasn’t going to let us on. But we made it on the plane, sitting down, bag in hand. As we take off, I’m looking out the window at the most beautiful sunset through a dirty airplane window and the Lord reminds me, My mercies are new every morning. Great is my faithfulness. I lay my hands on my son and pray peace and healing over him and then I begin to think back on the faithfulness of the Lord this morning - having a change of clothes for Andrew, the vomit not smelling (due to nothing in his stomach!), the kindest TSA officers I’ve ever encountered giving me plastic bags, sanitizer and an understanding tone, and finally sitting next to a guy in the plane who was so compassionate and understanding. The circumstances didn’t change (he actually threw up a few more times on the plane) but this feels like a holy moment. A moment where Jesus met with me to remind me that he’s bigger and that we are not alone. Thank you Jesus for your new morning mercies.

*Story told with Andrew's permission - and praise the Lord he was completely fine after a full night of sleep! 

Is it more important to feel safe or be safe?

Joy (at her ballet recital): Mommy, will you sit in the front row so I can see you?

Me: Baby, I would love to, but every mommy is going to want to sit in the front row and so I might not be able to get that seat - but I will be there! You might not be able to see me, but I can see you. You can wave and you can know I am there waving back at you, even if you can't see me. 

Even as the words came out of my mouth, I couldn't help but think about Jesus speaking to me, "Sometimes you can't see me, but that doesn't mean I am not there." 

A few Sundays ago, our pastor spoke on the passage in Mark where Jesus walks on the water. "Later that night, the boat was in the middle of the lake, and he was alone on land. He saw the disciples straining at the oars, because the wind was against them. Shortly before dawn he went out to them, walking on the lake." (Mk 5:46-47) And Pastor Don said to us, "Is it more important that we FEEL safe or that we ARE safe?" The disciples didn't FEEL safe. They felt terrified and alone, but you know who saw them? Jesus. They were never in danger of drowning because he was there whether or not they felt him or could see him. Does God allow hard things to happen to us? Absolutely. But is it ever outside His control? Never. 

At that moment it brought me back to Joy at her recital. She was the center of my world. The other kids on the stage were her props (sorry to all the other kids there, nothing personal 😆). If something were to happen, I would have been there in a heartbeat. She had to trust what her eyes could not see. She had to trust my character - that I love her and I was going to show up for her. 

If I can ask my daughter to trust me, a fallible human, is it not completely appropriate for my Father to ask me to trust Him even though my eyes cannot always see? 

You are safe in Him - even in the times you don't feel safe.