(Godwink) An unlikely pair: Moses & Whitney Houston

    I've hesitated to write about this because as I try to explain it, I can't quite convey the certainty I felt in the moments as it was unfolding.  In fact, I wonder if as you read this you'll be slow nodding and squinting at your screen thinking, "Okay, Ash.  It's time to take you to the loony-bin." But Casey has encouraged me to share it, and I guess in all of this new normal, part of my adjusting is being more open to both sharing parts of myself and receiving from others.  So I decided to share in hopes that others can see the Godwink in it like I did. May it can serve as a reminder to be on the lookout for these small "coincidences" that might just be the voice of God speaking to you right when you need it most. 

    About two weeks ago, Silas asked for my phone while we were driving so he could play a song that he wanted me to hear.  I don't remember what the song was.  But you know how Spotify, after you play a specific song, will continue to play music related to the song you've just requested?  Well, after Si's song was over, the next song that started to play was "I Will Always Love You."  The Whitney version.  We had a whole discussion about the song.  We talked about which version we preferred: Whitney or Dolly.  Si asked me if Whitney was still alive. No. How did she die? Overdose. In the middle of the conversation, I had this thought pop into my head that I should watch The Bodyguard.  I've never seen it.  Never had any desire whatsoever to see it.  But for some reason, on this day, it sounded like a good idea.  But then the conversation changed course, we went on about our way, and I didn't think about it again.  

Later that evening, I had started having some anxiety worrying about Silas.  His wellbeing has been heavy on my mind since Casey's diagnosis.  Si tends to be on the anxious side and seems to have already begun to succumb to the societal expectation that "boys don't cry" even in spite of my efforts, since he was born, to fight against that.  I'd been worrying about him on this day particularly because he just hadn't been saying much.  If I tried to ask how he was doing or strike up a conversation with him, he just seemed short and irritable.  Pushing me away in every sense of the word.  Some of this, I knew, was just typical behavior for a 12 year old boy on the cusp of 13; however, I'm well aware that this age is a precarious and transitional one on it's own, much less when your Dad is facing such a scary diagnosis.  So I've tried to be vigilant.  On this day, my worries just felt too big for my body.  By evening time, I was tired, overwhelmed, and emotional.  

Si had been in his room for the greater part of the late afternoon, so I went in to check on him.  Similar to his recent responses to me, he was pretty closed off and distracted.  When I pushed a little, he just snapped at me, "Mom I'm fine! Leave me alone." Oof! This is new.  All I could think to tell him was, 

    Okay.  I'll give you some space.

    Please just know that no matter what I'm always here.

    All of the things you are feeling, I am feeling too, and I wish I could take them away.  

    But you aren't alone.  

    If you need to talk or you just need someone to be with you, say the word. 

    No matter what, I want you to know that I'm not going anywhere, and I'll always love you. 

As I got up to walk out of his room, Silas stood up and hugged me.  We stood there for a good while, and I made sure to allow him to let go first.  I then went into my bathroom, turned on the shower, and began to ugly cry.  Overwhelmed with fear, worry, anger, and sadness, I whisper-screamed at God.  

"Why?  My kids don't deserve this!  What are we supposed to do?  How do you expect me to carry this?  How can I soothe his heart when mine is broken too?  This isn't how their childhood is supposed to be!  What have we done to deserve this? I am so angry at you!" 

Eventually, I climbed into bed and cried myself to sleep.  At about 3:30 in the morning, I woke up because on the TV in my bedroom, Whitney Houston was singing "I Will Always Love You."  I put on my glasses and sat up to stare at the screen and realized that The Bodyguard was playing on TV.  In the middle of the night ... of all movies... under the sun .... The. Bodyguard.  "What the ....?" I was kind of dumbfounded.  I laid back down and kind of drifted back off to sleep thinking about how on earth that movie had ended up playing when I had gone to sleep watching the Lindsay Clancy Trial on YouTube?! 

I must have been back to sleep for only a few minutes when I woke up again to see Kevin Costner standing in a church while a priest recited Psalm 23 - "Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil.  For thou art with me..."  And here I was ... Right smack in the middle of the valley of the shadow of death.  And Whitney Houston was singing to me, "I Will Always Love You."  

I couldn't sleep anymore because the energy of this synchronicity was pulsing through me.  So I got up, made my coffee and opened my Bible App and my Bible to where I'd left off.  Exodus 15 - The Song of Moses and Miriam.  On my app, the pastor introduced the chapter saying, "God gave us music to convey what sometimes words can't."  I paused the app.  So now my bible app is talking about a song?  Like the song that had just woke me up from a dead sleep?  And he's telling me that God intends music to be a form of communication when words aren't sufficient?  This was just too much.  I felt so sure that this was some kind of message I was supposed to be getting.  Everything in my body and heart told me to pay attention.  I couldn't wait to tell Casey. 

Finally he woke up, and I went to sit on the edge of the bed and tell him about my experience that morning.  He was equally convinced that it was something I needed to pay attention to.  Then I asked him, "What on earth did you turn on TV when you came to bed last night?  Because I was watching YouTube.  How did The Bodyguard end up playing?"  He answered, "The Ten Commandments."  

Stop. 

The Ten Commandments.

Moses.

Exodus.

The Song of Moses.

The Song.

Whitney Houston.

The Bodyguard.

Psalm 23

I Will Always Love You. 

And then it hit me.  That was the message.  

I will always love you.  

In the same way that while Silas pushed me away, I sat with him and reassured him of my love and presence   It became clear that God, as the ultimate parent, was telling me, his child, that he was there as I cried, yelled at him, doubted his love, and questioned his presence.  

And he wanted me to know this:  

    Okay.  I'll give you some space.

    Please just know that no matter what I'm always here.

    All of the things you are feeling, I am feeling too, and I wish I could take them away.  

    But you aren't alone.  

    If you need to talk or you just need someone to be with you, say the word. 

    No matter what, I want you to know that I'm not going anywhere, and I'll always love you. 

And then the tears came.  The familiar tears of relief that come when I remember that I am not alone.  That he's never left my side.  In that moment, I knew that it was okay with him that I was questioning, doubting, being angry.  That nothing I could ever do could turn him away and that he will never leave me in the darkness.  He's with me.  And he knew that I needed to hear it.  So he sent me a Godwink.  Thank God I was paying attention. 

Maybe this makes me sound crazy.  It probably does.  Maybe I am.  But this was a message I needed, and I got it right when I needed it most.  I just want to never stop paying attention. 

Give us eyes to see and ears to hear.  

Casey and I have experienced these "coincidences" so many times since this all began.  And what I'm learning is that he will communicate in the MOST unexpected ways.  This time he chose to join an unlikely pair: Moses and Whitney Houston.  And it was perfect.