Move the Mountain

Dec. 10th

written 3 days before surgery

He is teaching me to find Him in desert places.

I’ve seen him move, he moved the mountains, and I believe, I will see Him do it again. He made a way, when there was no way and I believe He will do it again.

Do it Again- Elevation Worship

Desert places are familiar, gaps of time…of emptiness. The lost places of feeling alone, and far away.

Where there are no words to describe the vast, open spaces, there is still a blessing because He is there in the valley, even yes, the valley of death. His presence is with me in the desert places. I cannot escape His promises, to keep me in His love.

There is great endurance in me. That is His gift. I know when to accelerate and when to slow down. My confidence is in the one who never changes. I change, I sway to and fro at times, frustratingly so…coming close…moving far…in my mind. But He is always near because He does not change like shifting shadows. There are no gaps in time with Jesus. My Father never changes. He is the same, yesterday, today and forever.

Restore the broken places…all the impossible places.

You will do it again.

Now everytime I witness a strong person,

I want to know:

What dark did you conquer in your story?

Mountains do not rise without earthquakes.

-Katherine MacKinett


Dec. 29th

written 16 days post surgery

I feel crippled by this loss. I miss my Mom. Yes, she survived the grueling 7 hours of brain surgery, but the Mom I have known for 47 years is not the same one whose hand I hold now. She has lost years. Memories are trapped in the synapses of neural connections…severed pathways, redirections and misfires. The Mom I have known didn’t wake up…didn’t come back. The Mom I knew, the Mom who knew me doesn’t remember.

She doesn’t remember our phone calls, our laughter or our tears. She doesn’t remember getting the phone calls about babies born, birthday surprises or graduations. She doesn’t remember the life we had together.

When I look into her sweet eyes, she is reaching for me…physically close but so very far away. And sometimes, now, I glimpse sadness in those beautiful steel blue eyes. The eyes that have run tears of joy and pain…those eyes that have met mine with knowing glances, now I see reflected in them an eerie emptiness.

But God said this: that I would see the goodness of the Lord in this land of the living.

But God said that no weapon fashioned against me would prosper.

But God said that He has given me everything I need for life and godliness.

But God said He would fight for me.

This battle is His.

I love you Mom…and I am not done fighting.

Greatly encouraged through this song and Jonathan Helser’s declaration to sing in the face of the giants.

Raise a Hallelujah

worship hands