And Then There Were Eight

Over the last two years and two and a half months the word “normal” has lost all real meaning to me. Oh, I use to think I was enlightened as I would tout the saying, “Normal is a setting on your dryer”, as if I had any idea of what a life looked like that wasn’t normal. However, now I know that normal is overrated.

Two years and two and a half months ago my brother got sick. That is when our normal changed, but that story has already been told. What hasn’t been told is what took place in our family four weeks and two days ago. New Year’s Day to be exact.

So settle in, grab some popcorn, and welcome to my life as a Lifetime movie.

The starring role is played by my sister, Rebecca. She is the heroine of this story and me, well, I’m just a supporting role whose name would appear about twenty names down when they rolled the credits.

One day I’ll write the story from our heroine’s perspective. I’ll have a real interview with her with a tape recorder and everything. I’ll ask tons of questions she won’t think are important and she will roll her eyes at me at least half a dozen times. It will be great!

One day you’ll hear her story.

Today you will just have to settle for mine.

New Year’s Eve I went to a party. I played Nertz with new friends, roasted marshmallows with old friends, and rang in 2012 with my new community in Nashville without a care in the world and with so much hope for everything I believed God moved me to Nashville for.

I fell asleep that night content.

Six hours and forty-seven minutes later my phone woke me up, only it wasn’t my alarm. It was my moma.

In the milliseconds it took me to answer the phone I thought a bunch of things.

Really? 7:47am on New Year’s Day when she knew was at a party all night?!? She must feel guilty for not calling me back last night when I called to tell her “Happy New Year”, but seriously, did she have to call me on her way to church?

“Did I wake you up”, she asked.

“Uhh, yea,” I replied with my voice thick with sleep.

“I’m sorry, honey, but I need you to wake up.”

Well that did it.

What happened? Who died? What happened to Daddy? He did just have a very serious health scare several weeks ago.

“Are you laying down?”

Okay, seriously? Now she was starting to freak me out.

“Yes.”

“Okay, there is someone here who needs to share something with you.”

Then my sister got on the phone. I followed her every word as intently as Alice followed the rabbit in Alice in Wonderland. Down the twists and turns of her sentences, trying to figure them out before she got to the end to decipher what she was trying to tell me only to end up flat on my rear end in a dark hole.

“Last night I started to get really sharp pains that made me think I had another kidney stone like I had last year. I tried to deal with the pain but then I told Moma that I couldn’t take it anymore and I asked her to take me to the hospital. We got to the hospital around midnight and after a series of tests it was determined that I did not have a kidney stone, but I was in labor, and at 4:31 this morning I had a baby boy…..”

I wish you could hear the sound of tires squealing on concrete as the brakes shut my brain off at this moment. I vaguely remember hearing her share stats with me and something about him being in the NICU and maybe she said something else but all I remember is an obvious disappearance of oxygen from the room as I began to hyperventilate.

“What? WHAT?!? Who? How? WHAT?!?”

You see, I had just seen her at Christmas. I shared a bathroom with her until November 4th when I moved to Nashville. I didn’t even know she was seeing someone. I had a brief moment of feeling like I was being Punk’d and that the whole lot of my family was going to come bursting through my bedroom door any second. Like I said, that moment was brief. Because in the coolest and calmest voice I have ever heard in my sister, she responded to my questions.

“The how you know. The who is for another conversation. And the what, all you need to know is I have a healthy six pound, six-ounce baby boy.”

The hyperventilation continued.

“What can I do? Do I need to come home? I NEED TO COME HOME! What do you need me to do?”

Again, cool as a cucumber…”You can help me pick out a name.”

“Okay, I can do that.” Names are right up my alley. I love them. I love what they mean about a person’s destiny in the Lord. THAT I could do.

Something happened and my moma was back on the line and again, I was asking if I needed to come home and then alternating between asking and then declaring that I was coming home. Then I asked my moma how she was doing, hoping desperately that she would know what I meant so I wouldn’t have to speak the words to a question I didn’t even know myself.

“How are YOU?!?”

I’ll never forget her words. They were freedom for me. They released me.

“Your Daddy and I are choosing to celebrate his life.”

I can count on one hand how many times in my life I have cried as hard as I did after that statement.

That statement made him real. I had another nephew. My sister was a moma. My sister had a son and he was in the NICU. I was an aunt again. There was life…and then there were eight.

Lately, I’ve been trying to put a name to the emotion that made me begin to cry. I think I’ve settled on shock, and while that may not be an emotion by definition, it was for me that day.

After I got off the phone I walked around on auto pilot. I knew I was going to church so I went into the kitchen to make myself some breakfast. I needed to seek the Lord’s face so I took my breakfast and sat down with my bible and journal in my bedroom. As I was reading, every name I saw was a potential for my new nephew so I looked them up on the internet. I needed to shower so I did.

With every new task there were two things that were constant. My weeping and the Holy Spirit’s presence.

As I was looking up names, I wrote the ones I liked down in my journal along with their meaning. Josiah; God will save. Jesse; Gift. Noah; Rest and comfort.

After wasting about ten minutes putting on my makeup I drove to church. I talked to my brother and sister-in-law on the way.

“Did you have any idea she was pregnant, Kathryn?”

“Are you kidding? No!”

It was beginning to dawn on me that neither had Rebecca. Remember, I shared a bathroom with her until she was seven and a half months pregnant.

She never got sick. She had a cycle every month. She would never have forgone prenatal care had she known she was pregnant. She would never have let our moma take her to the closest hospital to their house, knowing good and well they don’t deliver babies at that hospital.

Still not convinced? Well, I really don’t care because I believed her simply because she told me she didn’t know…even still, the number one reason I know she didn’t know she was pregnant is she would never have let the doctors pump her full of drugs to treat her for a kidney stone, therefore drugging up that sweet baby boy of hers.

Never would she have been that selfish.

I’m not entirely sure how I made it to church that morning but I did and to say I was a mess would be a gross understatement. I was coming a part at the seams. I can’t think of a better place to fall a part though.

During that morning’s time of worship a sweet, godly woman shared a word the Lord had given her. She said that during prayer that morning the Lord had given her a picture of complete and utter chaos; end times chaos. However, in the midst of that chaos the Lord said that the year of 2012 was going to be a year of His unexplainable peace and a year where He would give us His good gift of rest.

Did I mention she was looking directly at me as she said this? Maybe it was because I was a mess or maybe it was because the Lord specifically told her that word was for me, either way, I couldn’t breathe and a whole new wave of tears crashed over me.

His good gift of rest?

Noah; Rest and comfort.

In that moment, I kind of already named him Noah in my heart but there was only one thing…my sister had to like it. Well, she did and later that day, the baby who no one but the Holy Spirit knew about for forty-two weeks was named Noah Riley. Our little man of Brave Rest, since Riley means brave.

I began to pray into his name later that night and God reminded me that the Noah of old believed God when no one else did. He believed God when there was no circumstantial evidence to help him trust. He believed God and because he believed God he saved his family’s life. Because he believed God he provided a conduit where God brought redemption to this world in the form of Jesus.

What an incredible thing, to trust the Lord not because what He says makes sense but simply because it was He who said it.

And then I remembered that is one of the things the Lord wanted to teach me through my move to Nashville. I don’t have to have all of the answers or every little nuance of the timeline of my life figured out before I do something. God’s got it all.

In the days to follow I would catch myself trying to figure things out. “Okay, Becca will need this, and I wonder if she has thought about that, and…..”

Do you know what I heard from the Lord when my thoughts would send me into this tailspin?

“I don’t, all of a sudden, need your help on this. I’ve got this and I’ve had it.”

In that moment I knew that this lesson was so much bigger than Rebecca and Noah.

How often do I find out about something that the Lord has known about from eternity past and since I all of a sudden know about it I have to find a way to fix it? All. The. Time.

When He decides to let me know He has been working in the background of my life and He lifts the veil of knowledge He doesn’t need me to all of a sudden do anything except trust Him. To rest in the knowledge that He has everything and to move when He says move.

I went home to Columbus to see Rebecca and Noah four days after he was born and when I say those were the longest four days of my life I am not exaggerating. They were excruciating and most of those days included me walking around in a zombie-like trance.

On my return trip to Nashville I was talking to a sweet mentor of mine who said, “Kathryn, I don’t know how you are doing it; going back and leaving them.”

I told her I was sure I was where I was supposed to be. That if I was any less certain then I would take my crazy self back to Columbus and live across the hall from Noah and his moma.

Has it been hard to be away? Hard doesn’t even begin to scratch the surface. Do I feel a little sore towards the Lord for requiring me to move before he was born because He didn’t want me there when it happened? A little.

But here is what I know.

I was sitting in the church I now call home in April of 2011. My sister and moma and I had gone to Nashville for my cousin’s wedding and we visited New Song while we were there. I sat right next to my sister as I began to sense the Lord lay out a strategy for me to move to Nashville in the fall.

I was sitting right next to my sister when the Lord made plain my way to move and she was already pregnant. Noah was already among us and God called me away.

Does that sting a little bit? Yes, but I can’t be sorry.

Is it a sacrifice? Absolutely, but God’s word is clear that we are to die to ourselves so that we may live in Christ Jesus.

Does it seem counter productive to be here taking care of someone else’s babies when I could be there helping to take care of my sister’s? To my checking account, no, but to my heart, yes!

But then God reminds me of the Promise. He reminds me that the Promise is here and I know that it will all be worth it in the end. When I choose to remember this I stay encouraged. I don’t care who you are, you can’t hear a story like this and not be encouraged.

Where there was nothing, all of a sudden there was everything?!? Isn’t that the entire creation story?

Genesis 1:2 says,”Now the earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters” There was nothing until God spoke and then there was everything.

“Let there be light,” verse three.

“Let there be a vault between the waters to separate water from water,” verse six.

“Let the water under the sky be gathered to one place, and let dry ground appear,” verse nine.

“Let the land produce vegetation: seed-bearing plants and trees on the land that bear fruit with seed in it, according to their various kinds,” verse eleven.

“Let there be lights in the vault of the sky to separate the day from the night, and let them serve as signs to mark sacred times, and days and years, and let them be lights in the vault of the sky to give light on the earth,” verses fourteen and fifteen.

“Let the water teem with living creatures, and let birds fly above the earth across the vault of the sky,” verse twenty.

“Let the land produce living creatures according to their kinds: the livestock, the creatures that move along the ground, and the wild animals, each according to its kind,” verse twenty-four.

“Let us make mankind in our image, in our likeness, so that they may rule over the fish in the sea and the birds in the sky, over the livestock and all the wild animals and over all the creatures that move along the ground,” verse twenty-six.

The earth was formless, God spoke, and then all of a sudden…

What are you hoping for? What are you believing for? What is impossible for God?

The day after Rebecca gave birth to Noah her ankles and feet started to swell. The day AFTER he was born. She asked the nurse why they were swelling now and not before. The nurse looked at her and said, “Your body didn’t have enough time to get use to the fact that it was pregnant so now it is trying to get use to not being pregnant.”

I’m sorry, what? She was pregnant for forty-two weeks! How on earth did it not have time to get use to the fact that it was pregnant? And then it hit me…God hid Noah from her body as well as her mind.

What is impossible for God?

That loved one whose salvation you are praying for, aching for; they are just one decision away. That disease in your body is subject to the King of Kings, believe that! That husband you are waiting for, that wife you are waiting for, they are closer than you think. That womb that is barren and that baby you have prayed for, you believe God! The earth was formless, there was nothing and then all of a sudden!

He is constantly working behind the scenes of our lives and while it is His good pleasure to surprise us with the joys of life, the miracles of life, He works to make His name famous among the earth.

He works in such a way that a young woman would walk through her entire pregnancy, save the final hours, without knowing anything about it so that no shame would rest on her and thus rest on that baby.

Noah was wanted from the moment the knowledge of him was given.

But for forty-two weeks it was just Noah and the Holy Spirit hanging out in Rebecca’s womb. Noah growing and the Holy Spirit protecting, preserving, and sustaining his life as his moma didn’t know to be careful. Noah stretching out in the long torso of my sister and the Holy Spirit loving and ministering to this new little life that was not planned by his earthly parents but set apart and called forth by his Heavenly Father.

Psalm 139 tells us all about this sort of thing, but I admit I had heard it so much it had lost all of it’s magic. Well, no more.

¹³ For you created my inmost being;
you knit me together in my mother’s womb.
¹⁴ I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
your works are wonderful,
I know that full well.
¹⁵ My frame was not hidden from you
when I was made in the secret place,
when I was woven together in the depths of the earth.
¹⁶ Your eyes saw my unformed body;
all the days ordained for me were written in your book
before one of them came to be.

Beautiful Mystery

“My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place”…it was so secret that his moma didn’t even know. Tell me, what is impossible for our God?!?

I am more than a little excited to see what kind of Kingdom-Building relationship Noah has with the Holy Spirit as he grows older. His very entrance into the world has brought fame and glory to the Lord already. His Aunt Kathryn has fallen more deeply in love with the Lord than ever before, more enthralled with God’s majesty.

As I was feeding him his bottle this weekend during one of the middle of the night shifts I was overcome.

The room was dark but I could still make out those incredible, big brown eyes staring right into mine and as he sucked on that bottle and made his sweet little baby noises I just began to weep. How great is our God to give our family and this earth such a miracle? And even more than that, how much He must love and trust my sister to have entrusted such a miracle to her? Was there sin involved? Sure, but like I Peter 4:8 says, “Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins.” I’m fairly certain that the Lord loves her A LOT and so do I. So when I look at her at don’t see what she did but who she is and who she is is a great moma to her boy.

So, welcome to the world Noah Riley. Thank you for existing. Thank you for teaching us all how utterly dependent we are on such an awesome and sovereign God. Thank you for already making God’s name famous. I scarcely feel worthy to be called your aunt.

O Great God, Give Us Rest

My Sweet Little Nephew

:::bragging to commense:::

I have mentioned several times in the course of this journey that I am a new aunt. Let me say again, being Gabriel David’s aunt is one of the best things I have ever been.

The fact that I get to be a part of that little boy’s life and destiny is mind blowing. God is going to do huge things in and through that little man.

Well, my sister-in-law just started a new blog highlighting how this little guy is growing and other happenings in their family, so I think all of you should go check it out.

If only to see how precious he is, then so be it!

http://gabesadventures01.blogspot.com

:::ok, bragging is over:::

And Then There Were Seven

There I was, taking up residence on the cold, hard, tile floor, on the other side of a door where a miracle was taking place.

My mother was there and the other mother as well. All of us leaning into that door as if by our very thoughts and prayers being joined together, the process would go smoother on the other side.

It was eerily quiet for a little while and then a quiet, almost reverent counting came from a voice belonging to my brother. Then the strange voices of a doctor and a nurse. An occasional moan and cry made its way into the chorus of calm.

After about forty-five minutes of that, my rear end long past numb, partly from the chill of the tile and partly from sitting on such a hard surface for so long, the pace of things behind that door began to quicken.

The counting became louder and more of a command than a suggestion. The voices of the doctor and nurse became more familiar, with their insistent directions and encouragement. With every 10 second time span of counting, the moms and I held our breath and as we released it and heard the cries on the other side of the door, we whispered prayers of strength, peace, and perseverance.

Another fifteen minutes passed with more of the same.

The counting started coming quicker, louder, and thick with emotion. As I heard it, I had to remind myself that the man it was coming from was indeed my little brother, now so grown up, with a maturity ringing in it I scarcely recognized. The doctor and nurse gave updates on the progress with statements of “Don’t give up now”, and ” You are almost there”.

And then we were assaulted once more with the cries and moans from such a sweet and brave woman. A woman I have grown to love as my own sister. Knowing she was in such pain made my heart hurt and again, I found myself holding my breath.

The counting raised in volume again.

The directives from the doctor and nurse became more pronounced and urgent.

The cries became more determined and purposeful.

All of them together now, followed by the briefest moment of silence.

And then…

…the sweetest little sound I have ever heard. The single cry of my nephew, letting the world know he was here.

Something, in that moment, shifted in my spirit and three days later I’m not entirely sure what it was.

Maybe it was the start of the Clock of Legacy, signaling the start of the legacy I will leave for him. Maybe it was the knowledge that the landscape of our family had changed unalterably. Maybe it was something I will never completely understand. What ever it was, something in my spirit shifted and I knew I would never be the same.

Twelve hours later I felt the shift even more acutely as he was put in my arms for the first time.

As he settled securely in my arms I found myself in the middle of a paradox. My mind was spinning with dreams for his little life; Kingdom dreams he will live to fulfill. However, at the very same time no thought entered my mind save this, “How perfect he is, Lord.”

Such crazy, insane love. Perfect and pure at its core. Willing to give all and do all for the sake of his welfare.

I have loved fully and I have loved well, in my 27 years, but I have never loved as I do now.

Gabriel David

November 7, 2008

8lbs 12oz

20in

Jeremiah & Ashley – Proud Parents

Gabriel David

***NOTE*** Many of you know that my brother and sister-in-law are expecting their first child in November. Since moving home this little one has been the topic of many conversations and my anticipation of being an aunt grows with Ashley’s belly.

What will he live to do? Who will he live to be? The thought that he may not follow the Lord is not an option to me at all and I am contending for victory and purity to reign in his little life.

Today we had a family shower for them. As all the ladies “Oooed” and “Ahhed” over the little bitty clothes that he will soon be wearing something in those moments seemed very holy to me. This little bitty baby boy, still growing in his mother’s womb, will one day be a man of great destiny…

…and I have been chosen to be his aunt.

It was a very overwhelming moment filled with awe and wonder.

As I was sitting in the parking lot of the church I visited today, I wrote in the card that was to go with the present and cried the whole time. I might mention that it wasn’t until I got home and looked in the mirror that I realized no one had told me in the almost 4 hours I was at the shower that my mascara had run! So much for family! 🙂

This is what I wrote in his card. ***END NOTE***

————————————————————————————

The moment I knew you were on your way I fell in love with you.

Oh sweet little boy, I am believing big, God-sized things for your precious life.

Your first name, Gabriel, means “God is my strength” and your middle name, David, means “Beloved”.

Sweet nephew of mine, I am believing you will grow to be a Beloved Warrior in the Kingdom of God who finds his strength in the Holy God who has unimaginable greatness reserved for you; Who has a destiny for you like none other.

The promise of your life is one I rejoice in and I am eagerly awaiting our meeting.

I love you to the stars and back again,

Aunt Kathryn

My Beautiful, Fabulous, World-Changing Four

For the last nine months I have been meeting with four 8^th grade girls on a weekly/bi-monthly, one-on-one basis.

One wanted help in learning how to forgive.

One was struggling with feelings of insignificance and unworthiness, wanting desperately to know that her Heavenly Father was proud of her.

Another wanted to know for herself why she believed; was it because it was her parents’ faith or her own?

And another had faced more life changing tragedies in her short fourteen years than any adult should ever have to face.

Four fourteen year-old girls.

Who would have thought they could change the life of someone almost twice their age.

I went to their 8^th Grade Promotion three months ago. It is kind of like a high school graduation but for middle school. Some may say a ceremony like that is silly but as I sat there I thought back over the previous six months and how much they had grown and I found myself believing that they could do and be anything they want at this point. I thought back to when they shared with me some of their dreams for the future and belief settled in my gut for them.

They ceased to be the dreams of fourteen year-olds and instead became the futures of the beautiful, fabulous, world-changers they are.

Kali, with her sweet spirit and old soul, has so many things she wants to do but if she is anything she is an artist. Her dream is to start a fashion line that is trendy, fashion forward, and modest all at the same time. I can see her now, walking down the runway with her models, kids just like she is now, in Bryant Park during Fashion Week in New York City.

LeeAnn wants to live in Washington, DC as much as she wants to take her next breath. When she talks about it the air around her charges with a kind of electricity that only comes when you want something so bad you can taste it and sometimes I think she actually can. She wants to be the President’s assistant and when she first told me this I balked. My reaction was, “The President’s assistant? Why not the President?” Her response was full of wisdom beyond her years. She said that while the President is the most important and powerful person in the world, he could not do what he does without his assistant. Whether she accomplishes this particular dream or not, in this one response, I see a servant leader in her, if ever there was one.

Erika is the middle of five children. Her mother passed away when she was eleven and she is just now beginning to rebuild her relationship with her father after six years a part. Erika is talented and bright and on Promotion Night in her new dress, with her hair down, she was beautiful. Right now she is just trying to figure out what to do with all of the grief her short life has held. Oh, but if she could only see what I see on the other side of her healing…greatness beyond measure. I believe the Lord will give her a voice to help heal the broken. It is what her mother believed for her and it is what I believe for her.

And then there is Catherine…with all her love, fire, passion, and her fierce desire to please the Lord. She wants to be an event planner. She loves to organize and plan and make events special for those who attend them. She once mentioned weddings but I see her doing something more. I see her being the head of something like Women of Faith, planning and orchestrating events that create an atmosphere for lives to be changed by God’s power and love. I see her leading the people in her life by example, wanting to get things right the first time and learning from those times when it takes more than once.

World-changers.

All of them.

And on Promotion Night after one of my girls was honored with an award for her leadership within her class one of her teachers approached me to offer her congratulations. I looked at her strangely and asked why she was congratulating me. Her answer brought tears to my eyes. “You’ve done a great job with her this year. We can see the difference. So, congratulations!”

I believe in my girls and that belief has made a difference in their lives. But the belief that has made the most difference is their belief in me.

As their leader it may not be appropriate to admit this, but it is utter truth.

Those four girls have made me believe in myself again. They have aided me in believing in the Jesus in me again. They have let me know, in no uncertain terms, that I matter.

In those moments when I had nothing of worth to say to Erika to help alleviate her pain, the Holy Spirit would whisper such sweet intimate words that brought hope and clarity to her eyes.

In those moments when Catherine needed correction and I, trying to spare her feelings, skirted around the issue until the Holy Spirit required me to correct her and she did not balk against it but received it like the gracious young woman she is becoming.

In those moments when Kali needed someone to let her just talk about her dreams, someone to brainstorm with and I found myself feeling as if it were okay for me to begin dreaming again as well.

In those moments when I failed LeeAnn and all she really wanted to know is that I loved her, that she mattered to me and that she had something to offer to the world around her and I realized, that most of the time, that is all any of us want.

Yesterday I had to say good-bye to them. And while I am sad, I am hopeful. This is the closest thing I have ever felt to being a mother…giving of myself until the brink of depletion and then knowing when to let go and let my beautiful little chicks fly.

Belief is a vast and beautifully powerful mystery. Quadruple that mystery and you will understand how much I love my beautiful, fabulous, world-changing four.

Girls, if you are reading this…I love you. I am proud to know you and call you daughters in the faith. Thank you for letting me be a part of your life and I look forward to the continued development of our relationship. You will be more that okay without me here every week and I am looking forward to hearing about all God will do in and through you while we are apart.

Don’t be afraid to dream.

Don’t be afraid to live.

Don’t be afraid to let people in.

Don’t be afraid to ask for help.

Don’t be afraid to fully be the beautiful creation the Lord created you to be.

I love you more than my life and I believe in you!

Here’s What You Need to Know

I’ve always wanted my words to matter; to strike a chord with someone that would urge them to move. To make such a difference in another’s life they can remember exactly where they were when they first read them. Narcissism? Maybe, but I think there is something deeper here.

I remember sitting at a small table in Barnes & Noble with a Fat-Free Grande White Chocolate Mocha with no whip cream in one hand and Captivating in the other. John and Staci Elderedge’s words in the very first chapter answered more questions about myself than I ever even knew I had. I had never heard before that book that I bear God’s image uniquely as a woman. The Lord changed my world with their words.

I think, like most women, I have heard the old adage “Do you talk just to hear the sound of your voice?” one too many times not to have it stick in the back of my mind to rear it’s ugly head every time I open my mouth to say something. Still, I’ve always wanted my words to matter.

I’ve had daydreams of my grandchildren packing up my belongings after I go home to be with my Lord and they stumble across my piles and piles of journals; my Omer of Manna set aside for future generations to see the abundant provisions of God in my life (Exodus 16:32).

But what if I could do that now? Why do I have to wait until my mission on earth is completed?

What if this time I open my mouth it is not just to hear the sound of my own voice but glorify the Lord, even through my mistakes and imperfections; especially through my mistakes and imperfections?

What if this time I open my mouth I could do for others what John and Staci and so many others have done for me?

What if this time my words matter?

I have entitled this blog, Difficulty Glorious: A Daughter’s Journey, partly because one year ago the Lord gave me the phrase and partly because He gave it to me because He knew it would aptly describe the season we were entering together; the season I have resisted and because of that resistance we are still in.

Either way, it pretty much sums up what I want this to be, a place where I am allowed to chronicle my journey.

I am learning on a daily basis that every day can be a journey. Every day can take you to a different place. A place of discovery of the Lord and who I am in Him. A place of reflection on who He is and who I am not. A place that takes me deeper into my journey.