song for a season

Thursday, October 22, 2009


I cried secret when I posted yesterday. I cried awkwardly at my midwife appointment over Piper's ballistic two-year-old tantrums this week. I dropped tears again on the way home to a babysat Piper, listening to this song that will likely be my song for the duration of this pregnancy. I cried too when I talked with Pete this morning about my night-dreams and the inevitable labor that is coming to bring Button into life.

With Piper, my heart-question was "what kind of love is this?" Through labor, God reminded me over and over at the height of each contraction, "I'm here and I love you. You are not alone."

I don't know what my question is now, with everything tired and changing. I'm fresh out of words, questioning everything I am or have been, aware of God's Godness and hoping I am not letting Him down with my humanness, my exhausted broken.

Here, I think, must be where grace is made perfect, in my weak, where Love Himself is the only answer for my fears, where dream-deferred heartsickness isn't so big as it feels sometimes. So long as He is... There is more than my today.
Pencil marks on a wall
I wasn't always this tall,
You scattered some monsters from beneath my bed,
You watched my team win,
You watched my team lose,
You watched when my bicycle went down again,

And When I was weak unable to speak,
still I could call You by name,
and I said “Elbow healer, Superhero,
come if You can,” and You said “I am”

Only 16, life is so mean, what kind of curfew is at ten PM
You saw my mistakes, You watched my heart break
Heard when I swore I’d never love again

When I was weak, unable to speak,
still I could call You by name,
and I said “Heart-ache Healer, Secret-keeper,
be my Best Friend” and You said “I am”

You saw me wear white, by pale candlelight,
I said forever to what lies ahead
two kids and a dream, with kids that can scream
too much it might seem when it’s two AM

When I am weak, unable to speak,
still I will call You by name.
“Oh Shepherd, Savior, Pasture-maker,
hold on to my hand,” and You say “I am.”

The winds of change,
And circumstance blow in and all around
us so we find a foothold that’s familiar,
And bless the moments that we feel You nearer
Life had begun, I was woven and spun,
You let the angels dance around the throne, who can say when,
But they’ll dance again, when I am free and finally headed home

I will be weak, unable to speak,
still I will call You by name
“Creator, Maker, Life-sustainer,
Comforter, Healer, My Redeemer,
Lord and King, Beginning and
the End, I am, yes I am.”


- Nichole Nordeman, "I Am"





(Image © Informal Moments Photography)

6 comments:

Maureen said...

Yes, you are, dear Kelly.

Cassandra Frear said...

This place in a mother's life is extremely challenging. I cried a lot, too.

Rachelle said...

My labor mantra became "I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me." I've started having to remind myself of that already. I'm terrified of labor. I've been there. I'm know what I'm getting in to. We'll make it Kelly!

Heather of the EO said...

"aware of God's Godness and hoping I am not letting Him down with my humanness, my exhausted broken."

Me too. But it is there that I see grace so fully.

There have been times in these early years of mothering that I have been so at the end of myself...SO at the end. I know it will get harder in many ways as they get older...but MAN is this ever physically exhausting. It's just really hard.

Beautiful post.
(I love Nichole Nordeman) :)

T. J. Knowlton said...

Three things.

I love what you are doing with your site.

Marathon house cleaning counts for everything some days, so no need to take up running.

He is...isn't that comforting?

Thank you, again, for your words.

Jennifer @ Getting Down With Jesus said...

Love that song....

And you, sweet Kelly, ... ever-more-beautiful even here in your weakness.

You radiate Him.

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