You move me

01 What It's Like.mp3 by Laura Marie (USA)

This morning I had the pleasure of beginning my birthday performing with Chris Taylor, Onel Jimenez, Tim Phillips and Justin Schneider for our friends at Rockhills Church. It was comforting to sing and play with them because this is always, as it is for many, an emotional day for me. Yes, it's a day I celebrate life but also a day that I reflect on those who lost theirs in the events that took place 10 years ago. Last year, I remembered how I woke up on 9/11 and, with my infant son in my arms, headed downstairs to tun on the news. It hit me that we have been at war his entire life and, now, at 10 years old, he has questions about the events that took place then and concern about the events that are happening now. Here in Texas, the fires have us all on edge. We were concerned for friends and family on the East coast after earthquakes and hurricanes and remain concerned for those recovering and for those devestated by drought and fire here in Texas. This is a troubling time and my son has a compassionate heart. He struggles with it. 

As our friends and leaders led us in prayer this morning, they called for a moment of silence. My younger son is 6 years old and I looked out from the stage at him when the moment of silence began. He immediately started to giggle. My husband quietly shushed him. I watched him as he snuck his arm up to his mouth thinking he was going to make a funny noise to break the silence. One look from his dad stopped him. I had to smile. I am so very grateful that the gravity of the moment didn't occur to him. That's what I want for both my children. Joy and innocence for as long as possible. As my 10 year old begins to realize that the world isn't always what he wants it to be, I have no doubt that his heart will be moved to help others in need. I have no doubt that my younger son will do the same as he gets older. But, for now, on this day with it's very solemn moments, I want to take time to giggle and make silly noises too. I want to remember, not just the fear but, the innocence we had before the fear. I want to celebrate life because I'm pretty sure that those who gave theirs would want that for us just as we want it for them. 

 

Much love to you and yours.  - LM

 

What It's Like

I’ve been sitting pretty. I’ve been standing still. 

You move me to pieces with just your force of will. 

And, oh, how much I suffer for all my thinking small 

while you walk up in wonder and have no fear at all 

and now I’d like to know what it’s like 

to have the world at your command, 

drop the reigns when life gets heavy in your hands. 

With a spark of youth and a heart so full, 

you’re my living proof that everything is possible 

and now I’d like to know what it’s like 

to be you as you’re living every moment. 

Must be nice to be you taking life with arms wide open. 

I think I’d like to know what it’s like 

Will you show the world to me, the one I need to know, 

with the innocence you see so I can watch you go. 

And you keep running with your head held high, your arms outstretched, 

a smile the only reason why. 

And now I’d like to know what it’s like 

to be you as you’re living every moment. 

Must be nice to be you taking life with arms wide open. 

I think I’d like to know what that’s like.

 

Posted via email from Laura Marie Blogs

I'll never forget and I believe (Mom blog)

I'll never forget the moment that I knew everything was alright. I had a difficult labor with my first child. His heart rate and my blood pressure kept dropping. They were prepared to rush me into a the operating room for an emergency c-section. I was terrified but then, all of a sudden before the doctor even said so, I just knew. He was fine. 

And, it isn't the first time I held him that sticks in my mind. It's a moment when we were alone at home and he was awake in my arms and I picked him up so that we were face to face. I looked in his eyes. I mean, really looked. I wasn't just seeing him. I was filled with a deep sense of recognition. The only way to explain it was that something inside of me remembered him. His eyes were my eyes. I knew who he was inside and out. 

I'll never forget the first time he walked. It really did feel like my heart was outside of my body, completely vulnerable. I was thrilled and terrified at the same time. 

I'll never forget the moment I knew I was pregnant with my second child. I woke up in the middle of the night and my whole body was tingling. I'd never felt that way before but, I knew what it meant.  

I'll never forget the phone call from the doctor saying something was wrong. I was alone. Pete was in Germany. My parent's came rushing over. I couldn't stand up. I felt like the wind had been knocked out of me. There was so much emotion and I couldn't express any of it.

I'll never forget my friend Tricia saying, "You don't know what's wrong yet. Don't worry until you know what you have to worry about." It turned out to be nothing. A false positive on the test. He was fine, better than fine. That boy was 9 pounds at birth and he giggled from the moment he was born like he'd been playing a joke on us all along. By then, the fear was forgotten. 

It wasn't until we got the phone call that our dear friends were in trouble that it all came rushing back. There was something wrong with their baby. Both baby and mother were in grave danger. Just after hearing the news, I sat down and wrote "Surface". I think it took less than an hour. I cried the entire time and, for a long time after, couldn't sing it without crying. I remembered the fear and knew that it had to be greater than anything I'd ever felt. 

We all prayed. There was nothing else we could do. And, I remember how I felt when the doctor's declared the survival of both mom and baby a miracle. The fetus had a torn diaphragm and should not have been able to process the amniotic fluid. The mother had been swelling dangerously and the baby's lungs were underdeveloped. He needed surgery just after birth. Then, another surgery when the diaphragm tore again. But, they survived and are alive and well today.  I think of them and believe in things I didn't believe in before. 

Surface was and is a mother's prayer. 

 

Posted via email from Laura Marie Blogs