Psalm 121: A Post from Katherine Sasser
I got an email from a friend today and I couldn’t help but think of a few of you who, for some reason, read this blog from time to time. I knew it would encourage you, challenge you and inspire you. I asked Katherine if I could post it for that very reason. I have now known her for several years and could say lots of sweet things about her, but this post will tell you all you need to know about Katherine and her beautiful heart. She began the email like this:
Psalm 121
I raise my eyes toward the mountains.
Where will my help come from?
My help comes from the LORD, the Maker of heaven and earth.
He will not allow your foot to slip; your Protector will not slumber.
Indeed, the Protector of Israel does not slumber or sleep.
The LORD protects you; the LORD is a shelter right by your side.
The sun will not strike you by day, nor the moon by night.
The LORD will protect you from all harm; He will protect your life.
The LORD will protect your coming and going both now and forever.
As I spend time in God's word this morning, this Psalm is today's focus in the study I am doing. True to His nature, God has timed it perfectly for my eyes to drink in these words. Our family had a near-tragic experience yesterday that has left me emotionally spent and mentally battling the unthinkable. I spent some time last night processing what happened by writing out my account of the event. I have shared it with you below so that you will know what happened, and to give honor, glory, thanksgiving, and praise to the God who protects.
Sunday, September 14, 2008
I thought our son had been killed today. It was around 4:00 in the afternoon. Annie and Jake were outside riding big-wheels on the sidewalk in front of our house. I was browsing on-line for Norah’s first birthday dress, casually watching them through the front window. Timm had picked up Norah and had just walked outside to check on the other kids. Something stirred me to get up. I began to feel an odd emotion…an unusual mix of sadness and uneasiness. I decided to go outside too. As I reached to open the front door I heard Timm yell and then saw him begin to sprint down the sidewalk. His tone was horrifying. He was screaming with all his strength louder and louder, “No! Stop! No! Move! No!” The progression of his words and his escalating tone could only mean one thing. He was watching Jake being hit by a car that could not see him. In an instant I was running down the sidewalk and heard myself scream, “Nooooooo!” I could not see where Jake was or what had happened, but I could see that Timm had stopped two doors down at the house of our close friends. In the 50 feet from our house to theirs I had prepared to find my son crushed, broken, bleeding, trapped, mangled, gone. But instead I found him sitting on the curb disheveled and crying. His pants were dirty, his ankle bruised and swollen. I sat on the curb and scooped him up asking him what hurt. He pointed to his ankle. I looked him over, had him wiggle his foot. I asked him if he felt OK, if anything else hurt. The neighbors had come out by this time to see what was wrong. Timm was attending to our friend who had been driving the car. I could not take my arms off of Jake, and we sat on the curb for a few minutes. The seat of his big-wheel was broken off, but that was the worst of the damage. He seemed fine, and after everyone was taken care of we started home.
Once inside our house and in the privacy of our guest room, I broke down. I fell to my knees and could not hold back the sobs. I wept harder than I have wept in a long time and from a place in my heart that I did not know existed until that moment. I’m not sure if ever in my life I’ve felt stronger waves of gratitude and relief. The only words I could form in my mind were, “Thank you for not taking him. Thank you for not taking him.” Beyond that I could only groan from the depths of my being to express the indescribable ache of emotion that filled my heart. Terror mixed with delight. Fear mingled with joy. Anger then relief. I was as undone as I’ve ever been. I wept out of horror at the thought of what almost happened, what could have been. I found myself physically ill at the thought of how close our family came to touching the unthinkable.
When Timm joined me, I asked him to describe the series of events. He said Jake had stopped at the edge of our friend's driveway. The wife began backing out, but could not see Jake. Timm had turned to look for Jake just as the car was beginning to back out. Because of the distance, Timm could not tell how close Jake was to the driveway, but he knew the driver could not see him. He immediately began running and screaming trying to get her attention. She saw Timm and stopped. He got there just as the back wheel of her car was beginning to roll Jake and the big-wheel into the street. Jake was pushed off his big-wheel and scraped the right side of his body.
I was sure my child had been killed as I flew down that sidewalk today. I had never heard my husband scream so desperately. The scene felt like something awful I had watched out of a tragic film. As I ran I felt my heart fill up with grief even before I reached him. And then I arrived and found him very much alive and in good condition. I so quickly thought I had lost him that the gift of holding him on the curb was one of the sweetest I’ve known. All evening I kept imagining how the lens of life would be altered if a few tiny details had been different. If something tragic had happened yesterday I would ache to have Jake back in my arms, to be able to hold him, talk to him, play with him, watch him, laugh with him. I would long for more days and opportunities to appreciate all the wonderfully unique things I love about my son. I would deeply mourn the loss of time spent enjoying and mothering my little boy. And because of God’s great mercy and protection, and for no reason other than He willed it to be so, I get to do all of these things for at least another day.
To put it lightly, my perspective on mothering has changed. I can’t imagine ever taking for granted the days I have been given to enjoy each of my children. Nor will I see hard days at home with them as burdens I have to bear until they outgrow their childish ways. If Jake had been killed, I would have given anything to have back even the most challenging days with him. Even hard days are a gift. I get to hold his hand, see his smile, hear his voice, watch him play. We got to fix pancakes together tonight, and sit next to each other while we ate dinner. I got to kiss him good night, tuck him in, and sing him a song. Today all of that could have been over. It could have been my last day with him, but instead it was a day of emotional gratitude that will be tucked away in my heart for years to come. I’m not sure I’ll ever look at Jake the same way, or Annie, or Norah, or Timm.
I know God is sovereign. I know He is good. And I know both of these things would still be true even if Jake had not been OK. I also know that it is the grace of God alone that protected my son from being injured or killed. What keeps bringing me to tears is the realization of just how close we came to losing him. What if Jake had stopped six inches closer to the driveway, or if Timm had waited 30 seconds later to go outside, or if the driver had turned on the radio and didn’t hear Timm screaming…then what? What would I have done if my son had been killed by our friend backing out of her driveway? How would I have survived? These questions that keep haunting my mind and leading me down paths of fear and despair are answered so beautifully by the truth of God's word, "The LORD protects you." Even if something bad had happened, He would protect me, hold me, sustain me. Today he physically protected Jake. Today He also emotionally protected me and Timm from unimaginable loss. He protected Annie from knowing tragedy at such a young age. He protected Norah from never remembering her older brother. He protected our neighbor from a mountain of heartache and guilt. He protected Luke, Beckett, Brighton, and Graham from having to face the loss of a play-mate. He protected our extended family and close friends from walking down a terrible road with us. God was not asleep yesterday at 4:00. He was hovering, tucking all of us under his wing, carefully and intimately holding all things together.
Yesterday evening as I held Jake in my lap, rocking him and crying, I struggled to find four-year-old-words to express how I felt. When he saw my tears he asked, “Mommy, why are you doing that?” All I could do was hold his face, look in his eyes, and say, “Because I love you so much. Do you know that I love you? I do. All of my heart loves all of you and always will.”
Father, thank you for saving my child from injury and death today. Thank you for being the God that does not slumber or sleep, that protects our ways, that does not allow my foot to slip. Thank you for keeping Jake safe in the face of danger and for allowing him to walk safely home. Thank you for opening my eyes to see each day with him as a gift and for entrusting me with his life while he is on this earth. Impress on his precious heart your deep love for him.
I raise my eyes toward the mountains.
Where will my help come from?
My help comes from the LORD, the Maker of heaven and earth.
He will not allow your foot to slip; your Protector will not slumber.
Indeed, the Protector of Israel does not slumber or sleep.
The LORD protects you; the LORD is a shelter right by your side.
The sun will not strike you by day, nor the moon by night.
The LORD will protect you from all harm; He will protect your life.
The LORD will protect your coming and going both now and forever.
As I spend time in God's word this morning, this Psalm is today's focus in the study I am doing. True to His nature, God has timed it perfectly for my eyes to drink in these words. Our family had a near-tragic experience yesterday that has left me emotionally spent and mentally battling the unthinkable. I spent some time last night processing what happened by writing out my account of the event. I have shared it with you below so that you will know what happened, and to give honor, glory, thanksgiving, and praise to the God who protects.
Sunday, September 14, 2008
I thought our son had been killed today. It was around 4:00 in the afternoon. Annie and Jake were outside riding big-wheels on the sidewalk in front of our house. I was browsing on-line for Norah’s first birthday dress, casually watching them through the front window. Timm had picked up Norah and had just walked outside to check on the other kids. Something stirred me to get up. I began to feel an odd emotion…an unusual mix of sadness and uneasiness. I decided to go outside too. As I reached to open the front door I heard Timm yell and then saw him begin to sprint down the sidewalk. His tone was horrifying. He was screaming with all his strength louder and louder, “No! Stop! No! Move! No!” The progression of his words and his escalating tone could only mean one thing. He was watching Jake being hit by a car that could not see him. In an instant I was running down the sidewalk and heard myself scream, “Nooooooo!” I could not see where Jake was or what had happened, but I could see that Timm had stopped two doors down at the house of our close friends. In the 50 feet from our house to theirs I had prepared to find my son crushed, broken, bleeding, trapped, mangled, gone. But instead I found him sitting on the curb disheveled and crying. His pants were dirty, his ankle bruised and swollen. I sat on the curb and scooped him up asking him what hurt. He pointed to his ankle. I looked him over, had him wiggle his foot. I asked him if he felt OK, if anything else hurt. The neighbors had come out by this time to see what was wrong. Timm was attending to our friend who had been driving the car. I could not take my arms off of Jake, and we sat on the curb for a few minutes. The seat of his big-wheel was broken off, but that was the worst of the damage. He seemed fine, and after everyone was taken care of we started home.
Once inside our house and in the privacy of our guest room, I broke down. I fell to my knees and could not hold back the sobs. I wept harder than I have wept in a long time and from a place in my heart that I did not know existed until that moment. I’m not sure if ever in my life I’ve felt stronger waves of gratitude and relief. The only words I could form in my mind were, “Thank you for not taking him. Thank you for not taking him.” Beyond that I could only groan from the depths of my being to express the indescribable ache of emotion that filled my heart. Terror mixed with delight. Fear mingled with joy. Anger then relief. I was as undone as I’ve ever been. I wept out of horror at the thought of what almost happened, what could have been. I found myself physically ill at the thought of how close our family came to touching the unthinkable.
When Timm joined me, I asked him to describe the series of events. He said Jake had stopped at the edge of our friend's driveway. The wife began backing out, but could not see Jake. Timm had turned to look for Jake just as the car was beginning to back out. Because of the distance, Timm could not tell how close Jake was to the driveway, but he knew the driver could not see him. He immediately began running and screaming trying to get her attention. She saw Timm and stopped. He got there just as the back wheel of her car was beginning to roll Jake and the big-wheel into the street. Jake was pushed off his big-wheel and scraped the right side of his body.
I was sure my child had been killed as I flew down that sidewalk today. I had never heard my husband scream so desperately. The scene felt like something awful I had watched out of a tragic film. As I ran I felt my heart fill up with grief even before I reached him. And then I arrived and found him very much alive and in good condition. I so quickly thought I had lost him that the gift of holding him on the curb was one of the sweetest I’ve known. All evening I kept imagining how the lens of life would be altered if a few tiny details had been different. If something tragic had happened yesterday I would ache to have Jake back in my arms, to be able to hold him, talk to him, play with him, watch him, laugh with him. I would long for more days and opportunities to appreciate all the wonderfully unique things I love about my son. I would deeply mourn the loss of time spent enjoying and mothering my little boy. And because of God’s great mercy and protection, and for no reason other than He willed it to be so, I get to do all of these things for at least another day.
To put it lightly, my perspective on mothering has changed. I can’t imagine ever taking for granted the days I have been given to enjoy each of my children. Nor will I see hard days at home with them as burdens I have to bear until they outgrow their childish ways. If Jake had been killed, I would have given anything to have back even the most challenging days with him. Even hard days are a gift. I get to hold his hand, see his smile, hear his voice, watch him play. We got to fix pancakes together tonight, and sit next to each other while we ate dinner. I got to kiss him good night, tuck him in, and sing him a song. Today all of that could have been over. It could have been my last day with him, but instead it was a day of emotional gratitude that will be tucked away in my heart for years to come. I’m not sure I’ll ever look at Jake the same way, or Annie, or Norah, or Timm.
I know God is sovereign. I know He is good. And I know both of these things would still be true even if Jake had not been OK. I also know that it is the grace of God alone that protected my son from being injured or killed. What keeps bringing me to tears is the realization of just how close we came to losing him. What if Jake had stopped six inches closer to the driveway, or if Timm had waited 30 seconds later to go outside, or if the driver had turned on the radio and didn’t hear Timm screaming…then what? What would I have done if my son had been killed by our friend backing out of her driveway? How would I have survived? These questions that keep haunting my mind and leading me down paths of fear and despair are answered so beautifully by the truth of God's word, "The LORD protects you." Even if something bad had happened, He would protect me, hold me, sustain me. Today he physically protected Jake. Today He also emotionally protected me and Timm from unimaginable loss. He protected Annie from knowing tragedy at such a young age. He protected Norah from never remembering her older brother. He protected our neighbor from a mountain of heartache and guilt. He protected Luke, Beckett, Brighton, and Graham from having to face the loss of a play-mate. He protected our extended family and close friends from walking down a terrible road with us. God was not asleep yesterday at 4:00. He was hovering, tucking all of us under his wing, carefully and intimately holding all things together.
Yesterday evening as I held Jake in my lap, rocking him and crying, I struggled to find four-year-old-words to express how I felt. When he saw my tears he asked, “Mommy, why are you doing that?” All I could do was hold his face, look in his eyes, and say, “Because I love you so much. Do you know that I love you? I do. All of my heart loves all of you and always will.”
Father, thank you for saving my child from injury and death today. Thank you for being the God that does not slumber or sleep, that protects our ways, that does not allow my foot to slip. Thank you for keeping Jake safe in the face of danger and for allowing him to walk safely home. Thank you for opening my eyes to see each day with him as a gift and for entrusting me with his life while he is on this earth. Impress on his precious heart your deep love for him.
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PS - Your new blog layout is beautiful! I may have to copy!