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He caught me.

Alone.

Crying.

No. I was bawling.

“Mommy what’s wrong?”

My Blonde Boy  demanded an answer from his mommy.

“Mommy, TELL. ME. WHAT. HAPPENED?”

I could tell in the tone of his voice he was more than a boy. He was Protector. He would take on anything or anyone who made his mommy cry.

But the only one who made his mommy cry…was me.

He caught me in my brokenness. What do you do when your five-year old catches you sobbing over your messy heart? How do you find the air between the sobs to tell him everything is ok?

When. You. Are. Not.

My burden is not for him to share. I speak simply as I wipe the downpour from my face,

“I just want Jesus in my heart. I just want Jesus to love me.”

Everything fell silent.

I could feel him pondering my words as he sat on the arm of the couch. The silence was thick.

His voice went down a pitch when he confidently said,

“He already does.”

He already does.

If He already does than why the restless stir within me?

I wiped the tears and hugged my boy. But I couldn’t shake the physical restlessness.

I had to move.

Not just move off the couch. But somewhere else. Somewhere deeper.

“Mommy is going to exercise for a few minutes. Do you want to count how many times I reach the top of the stairs?”

Of course he does. He takes his place at the top of the stairs. I turn the only song I know that beats deep within me…

And I run.

Down and up.

Up and Down.

Always crying on the way down.

Always a smile for my boy on the way up.

Something was breaking inside me.

Movement brought release.

I felt it when my thighs burned, when my chest heaved and sobs exploded up and out of my soul.

“5, 39, 1,000, 29…”

He kept counting, encouraging me with every step I took. What five-year old does this?

“Mommy! Mommy!”

He had to shout above the music. The music I pumped up loud to hide the sounds of tears.

“Mommy, I have to tell you something!”

He always has something to tell me.

“What is it?”

“Mommy, I talked to Jesus about you. He said to tell you He likes you!”

His face lit up and joy came over him on announcing the good news.

The Good News. Jesus not only loves me. Jesus likes me.

As I turned to run down the stairs new tears flooded my face.

Movement brought healing.

My ears turned to my son, still at the top of the stairs. He stopped counting only to begin singing the chorus blaring through the house…

“Hal-le-lu-jah, hal-le-lu-jah…”

I didn’t make it up those stairs again. I didn’t need to. The work had been done. I left the Blonde Boy to his Hallelujahs and I fell to the couch in a heap of thanksgiving.

Jesus not only loves me…He likes me.

Hallelujah indeed.

On the journey with you,

Laura

How about you? In what ways is God healing you? How will you MOVE today?

Here or somewhere…be real. Share your journey.

Relevant Worship {the song I ran the stairs to that day}

Hallelujah by Jake Hamilton

Reflective Scripture

Exodus 14:15b-16

… “The Lord said to Moses: Tell the Israelites to MOVE on. Raise your staff and stretch out your hand over the sea to divide the water so that the Israelites can go through the sea on dry ground.”

{My Thoughts} Moses’ MOVEMENT was in simply raising his staff and stretching out his hand. That was it. It took great faith to do even that much. But look what happened. The waters parted and the people of God walked closer to their destiny on safe and dry ground. There is a connection between our physical movement (ie: my running the stairs) and spiritual movement. Something to think on while on the journey)

{Congratulations to Sofia Simpson for winning this month’s giveaway!}

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