Fire and Faithfulness: A Testimony of God

It was the Spring of 2009 and God had laid it on my heart to form a small group that would walk through the book titled “Power of a Praying Parent” by Stormie Omartian. I kept arguing with the Lord “but God who am I? I am not equipped or qualified to lead a group of praying parents. I've failed miserably, I've done a lot wrong. How can you use me after all I've done?” I stayed obedient to the call and was about to witness one of the biggest favors God has ever had on my life. God was about to be big and mighty and powerful and awesome and so undeserved. He was going to save my 2 older son's lives....

On Friday May 29th 2009 I kissed my two boys as they carried their backpacks out to their daddy's car. It was a typical friday night that Jacob and Connor would be heading over to their dads house to spend the night. I was all packed and ready to head over to Black Lake for the Women's Retreat with the women of ALFC. As the boys drove off with their dad I prayed like always that God would protect them and bless them as they spent time together. In my small group Power of a Praying Parent, we had just read the chapter entitled “Protection From Harm”. Little did I know, God was about to show me exactly what that meant.

I awoke on May 30th 2009 at 6am to a text message from my husband stating “Sean's house is on fire!” I immediately ran outside the cabin with my cell phone to call Matt. I remember my heart pounding as we spoke because he kept telling me he couldn't get a hold of Sean. I hung up and kept dialing and dialing. Still no answer. All I could think about was “I just want to talk to my kids! Are they okay?” Tears were falling, I was praying “Oh God my God please let my children be okay!” My phone rang and it was my ex husband Sean. He immediately reassured me that the children were just fine and everyone got out of the house just in time. I asked to speak with Jacob and Connor. They sounded alright, but I just wasn't convinced. I wanted to be there, to hold them, to pray with them, to see them. I felt the maternal pull to want to leave the retreat and just be with my children. Many of the women prayed for me and I felt a peace come over me that I couldn't begin to describe. During the morning devotion we were to wander off by ourself and talk to the Lord. I just cried and kept asking him “why did this happen?” I was fearing for their emotions over this devastating experience when I heard the Lord speak to me. He told me to go into Isaiah chapter 43. I began to weep when I read the heading “Israel's only Savior”: “But now, this is what the Lord says-he who created you, O Jacob, he who formed you, O Israel: “Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have summoned you by name; you are mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze. For I am the Lord, your God, the Holy One of Israel.” This scripture sent a flood of memories from my life and flashes of images of the times where I asked “Where are you in this moment God?” I couldn't help but feel the presence of God and His arms wrapped around me. My oldest son's name is Jacob, so that name just jumped off the page at me. Those words came alive and relevant and real. It wasn't until I got home from the retreat that I learned the details of this fire and how God's hand was in it the whole time.

My ex husband rented a room within a large two story house with another roommate who lived downstairs. A few weeks prior to the fire he rented the room in the back of the house. We now know that had he had not moved into the front room, they would have all perished in this fire. Sean is a heavy sleeper and is difficult to wake so he definitely wouldn't have heard the roaring of the fire until it was too late-as the only escape would have been through the stairs or front door which would have been burned or on fire. The room mate had a 2008 Dodge Quad Cab BigHorn Edition Diesel Truck that was parked in the front of the house right outside Sean's bedroom window. Being a heavy sleeper Sean doesn't normally wake to noises. He told me “I think God woke me up because as I sat up in bed I didn't hear anything or see anything. So as I lied back down it was as if God said “no, go to the window”.” As Sean peeled back the curtains he described it as “looking straight into the sun”. He heard the roar of the fire and saw that this bright blazing object was this large diesel truck completely engulfed in flames. He grabbed Connor, our younger son, and put him in the living room next to the couch. Sean immediately ran to open the front door and peeked outside to see if the fire had reached the house. He could hear the popping of the large tires sounding like gunshots as the flames reached the corner of the house where his room was. Sean ran to wake our oldest son Jacob who was sleeping on the couch. “Jacob! Jacob! Get up, the house is on fire! Take your brother and run outside to the neighbors house! ” he shouted. Quickly Sean leaped down the stairs to pound on his roommates door to yell “Mike! Mike! Your truck is on fire, the house is on fire! Get up! Get out!” As Sean ran upstairs he went right into his bedroom to grab his car keys and contact lenses. Jacob and Connor had followed him into the bedroom. Jacob told me he saw the flames coming in the corner of the room and was immediately afraid. Sean turned and saw that the boys were standing right in the doorway and he then grabbed them both and they all ran outside to the neighbors house. Sean's car was parked right next to the burning truck and he got into his car and moved it away from the house. There is bubbled paint along the passenger side of his car from the heat of the fire. Mike kept running in and out of the house in disbelief with his hands on top of his head. He was quickly gathering his belongings as the firetrucks were soaring down the road to get to the burning house and truck. Power lines were coming down and sparking along the dirt road as the neighbor filmed the entire fire taking over the house.



The boys never brought too many personal belongings to their daddy's house, but that particular night they brought a few things that were very important to them. Jacob was going through a Bible study with his mentor called “Experiencing God”-so his Bible was in the backpack. Connor had a baseball game the next day so he had brought over his uniform and cleats. Jacob was very upset that his Bible may have not survived the fire and Connor was saddened about his baseball shoes. Sean brought me over to the house a few days later to see the devastation. I was praying I would find these two precious items for my son's. I didn't find Connor's baseball cleat, but I did find one of his shoes. See Connor is an amazingly gifted athlete and plays almost every sport with the utmost of ease and with great passion. I know that God is the one who gives such talents to us. I took this shoe, all burned and black, and will one day give this to Connor with the same scripture he gave to me that tragic morning in Isaiah chapter 43. I pray that Connor knows how great and mighty God is and was that day he saved his life. I pray this shoe would represent his gift of athletics and show him how faithful God is.

I went into the living room where Jacob says his Bible was sitting on the glass coffee table. All I could see was the ash of insulation covering the floor and what was left of the glass coffee table and couch. I took a piece of wood and searched through the rubble. I saw the burgundy color of the Bible and as I uncovered more I noticed that it was very wet and partially stuck to the backpack. I gently pulled it and saw that the scripture was completely untouched. There was just a few scorch marks on the cover and the first few pages. I took the Bible home to dry out in the sun. I saw that the bookmark was still there so I opened the Bible up to where it was marked. There was Jeremiah chapter 29. My eyes fixed right on verse 11-15 “For I know the plans I have for you declares the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you a hope and a future. Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart. I will be found by you, declares the Lord, and I will bring you back from captivity. I will gather you from all the nations and places where I have banished you, declares the Lord, and will bring you back to the place from which I carried you into exile.” Knowing that God does nothing by accident, I fell to my knees in tears. “Thank you Jesus for your faithfulness, your protection, your love, your holiness, your might and strength. I'm sorry for making you too small, for taking control of my life, for holding on and not trusting you with everything I have.” I prayed.

A few weeks before this fire happened, Jacob was preparing his testimony to give on a missions trip he was to go on in August of 2009. I remember him coming to me saying “momma, I don't really have a testimony. I don't know what I'm going to say. I've been a Christian all my life and I don't have much to show others about how God has impacted my life.” I see now that God used this event to give Jacob that testimony, one that would not only impact his life, but many lives of others all the way in Honduras.
I presented this “new” Bible to Jacob on the 4th of July. He took it to Honduras with him on his missions trip this summer of 2009 and shared his testimony of how great and mighty God is. He said it touched so many in the congregation and felt so used by God that he came home with a new fire inside of him.

It's been nearly 5 months since the fire took place. Our family has been greatly impacted by this tragedy. It has caused a lot of emotions, a few nightmares, many conversations, a lot of sharing of testimony, a flood of tears but more than anything; we no longer see God the same. Hebrews tells us “he is an all consuming fire” and the element of fire represents purification. He that gives also takes away. But God gave way more to us than he took that fateful day on May 30th 2009. Our hearts are forever changed, our God is an amazing God and he truly is MIGHTY TO SAVE.

Michelle E. McCoy-Atencio

Salt

If there's one thing I've learned about hitting your knees, it's that you can't stay there for long. I found the beauty in my breaking there. I found the safe place to fall. I found perfect love there. I found my strength, my worth and my future there.
Throughout the process of being hit "below the belt" once again, pouring salt in old wounds actually helped heal them. It didn't go without the shedding of many salty tears, the outcry of many salty words, the bruised knees, bruised heart and doubting. It was like surviving the worst beating a person could ever endure. Enduring emotional pain at the hand of your own mother is quite possibly the worst wound a person could have. She thought she had the rod in one hand and the salt in the other, but what she didn't know was that the salt would actually act as healing rather than suffering.
It brought me up off my knees and right into the arms of God. There's no suffering there, only healing. There is no fear, only perfect love. There is no abandonment, only acceptance. There is no stinging salt, only nourishing salt. I've read in my Bible a million times "I will never leave you nor forsake you" and really wondered where God was in the midst of all I've endured. Then I looked up and saw the cross. I saw Him hanging on it, with His arms opened wide. Blood seeping from the nails in His hands and feet. The salty sweat and blood dripping from his forehead, falling down His body. Then I realized that He did this long before my existence on earth. He was there long before I needed Him. I heard my spirit say "I knew exactly what you needed before you had to ask." The blood and sweat dripping down His body was there to fall upon the heads of those who are at His feet. It fell upon mine that day and that's when I finally understood. Not only does it cleanse and renew, but it heals and restores. The same salt that stings is the same salt that can heal-if you find the right supplier.

Give them a Fish or Teach them to Fish?

I'm in the midst of raising a teenager, my oldest. It's an interesting season of life as a mother, to say the least. The 'magic number' is coming up next December and I can't help but feel a bit anxious. That comes from both feeling elated that he'll graduate high school and enter the Airforce Academy (hopefully) and feeling worried that I might not have given him all the tools he'll need for life....I can hear my father saying right now 'baby, life is hard. But it's harder if you're stupid.' I used to think that was the dumbest thing a parent could ever say! I chuckle at that now because I GET IT! As a mother it's been difficult to balance the giving with the teaching. We're made to be more compassionate and loving than our counterparts as well as more patient. (although I didn't get much of that) Some of the best times in my motherhood have been where I gave and gave and gave, all to feel little arms wrapped around my neck and wet snotty kisses on my lips. It just makes me feel so needed, so loved, so adored, so admired. There's nothing like it, snot and all. Some of the times in motherhood I've spent teaching, or leading, or disciplining. Most of the time I didn't get the desired hug and kiss, it was an evil glare or a stomping off, then the slamming of the door or the roll of the eyes. (that's always my favorite) Not the warm and fuzzy feeling I covet. I remember going fishing with my dad as a young girl. My dad was an 'old school' fisherman. You know...get up at 3 am, drive up to the mountains, hike 4 miles to the right spot (in the rain!), tread through a freezing cold creek (I got to ride piggy back sometimes) and then finally find the right spot. It's only 6am at this point.(ugh!) Then, dad would say you have to be quiet or you'll scare the fish. No talking! (that's tough for a girl!) He showed me how to bait my line (I hated how the worm felt when I stuck the hook through it, it got all stiff!), cast my line and then he taught me to wait. (without talking) I remember being ecstatic when the pole would bow and I'd reel it in so fast! Dad would come over and talk me through taking the fish off the pole, all by myself. First, get your hand kinda sandy (helps with the grip), grasp the fish here, with your other hand gently guide the hook out trying not to pull and make it bleed. Even if I had to throw the fish back it was exciting! Until.....he made me clean my own fish! He taught me that you have to make a slow cut up the belly, gently pry out the 'guts' and careful not to squeeze the bladder. I remember using my thumb to go up the spine of the fish and watching all that 'goo' fly out. I cut the head off and fed the heads and guts to the racoons outside. (they're cute!) We cooked them together and ate them together. My dad was so proud! He gave of his time and his heart, he showed love and compassion (hence the piggy back ride and the giggles when I'd squeel over the worm). He taught me the importance of patience, hardwork, determination and the value of being quiet. All by fishing.

So in my quest for finding balance in raising a teenager, and as my other 3 children grow into these awe-some creatures, I can always rely on good old dad. His 3am fishing expeditions provided the balance between giving and teaching, and the funny thing is...I didn't roll my eyes. I just wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed his cheek with my cold, snotty nose pressed against his face. Heaven.

I'm going fishing with my kids......

You Asked

You asked me what I miss the most.....I miss the feeling of new love where you believe in timeless love, twin hearts and bulletproof marriage.

You asked me why I do what I do....in a touch starved world, this is how I save it.

You asked me what's it like to be a mom of 4?.....it's like loving, laughing, crying, stomping, screaming, fearing, hoping, believing and pure joy all wrapped into one.

You aked me why this profile pic is my favorite memory....someone special drove me across the state of Florida just to watch the sunset on the Gulf of Mexico.

You asked me if I still believe in God.....that's like asking if I believe there's enough air for all of us to breathe. Yes, without a doubt, there's a God.

You asked me what my profile song is about....I'm not sure I could answer that in a single sentence. Let's just say "heartache". (the song was "Stupid Boy" at the time this blog was made)

You asked me how I can be so honest all the time....to me, there's no other way to be. I wasn't born with a filter on my mouth. LOL

You asked me why I stay....a sense of belonging, a longing for "forever" and the belief that there really is timeless love and twin hearts.

You asked me why I love elephants so much....they represent the mother, daughter, sister, being; that I would like to be. Study them.

You asked me why pictures are my most favorite possession.....they tell a story, they capture a moment that you can never get back, they're timeless.

You asked me how I did it for 2 years....lots of coffee, tears, sweat, airfare, a cell phone and lots of support.

You asked me why young girls are the way they are....the same reason why young boys are the way they are. It's called puberty. Look it up.

You asked me "are we almost there"?...my answer will always be yes son. Yes we are.

You asked me if I'll ever have enough patience with you....I'll try everyday, but I'm bound to regress. Promise to forgive me?

You asked me what an orgasm feels like....for a girl it feels like a great big sneeze. I have no idea what it feels like for a boy, but I know what it looks like. It's like watching a cat throw up. Need I say more?

You asked me why my favorite song is Amazing Grace.....it reminds me that I'm not perfect and that forgivenss for my stupidity is granted by God's grace on a daily basis.

Thank You's

Thank you.....

To you who drove me across the state of Florida to see the sunset.

To you who made me a momma for the very first time.

To you who dried my tears with your bare hands.

To you who saved the little girl without a daddy.

To you who forgave my debt.

To you who showed me unconditional love in the face of shame, fear, abandonment, and recklessness.

To you who showed me how not to be.

To you who finally said 'I'm sorry'.

To you who always makes me laugh.

To you who gave me a double blessing of hope, love and joy.

To you whom I've been dreaming about my whole life.

To you who just gave to me without question.

To you whom became my son's mentor.

To you who challenges me to bring it to God on a daily basis.

To you who showed me just how strong I really am.

To you who seeks my advice, yet I am the one uplifted every single time.

To all of you who are the thread of my tapestry in life.

My undeserved second chance....

He lets me sleep in, EVERY single weekend. He brings me coffee, with just the right amount of creamer. He rubs my feet, even when I don't ask. He tells me I'm beautiful, even when I'm not. He accepts my girlness, and loves it. He loves me, even when I'm unloveable. He cleans my WHOLE house, on my birthday, and even when it's not. He worships the Lord, with his whole heart. He drinks wine, when he really wants a beer. He does it, even when he doesn't want to. He plays dolls with our daughter, and superheros with our son. He relates to our oldest, and does it well. He has patience above all others with the second, that humbles me. He makes me grilled cheese and tomato soup, and brings the crackers too. He kisses me with lipstick on, and never wipes it off. He draws me bubble baths, for no special occasion. He works hard, even when no one tells him thank you. He loved being married, even before he was married. He brings me flowers, every single week. He changes the poopy diaper, before I even mention it. He puts pig tails in her hair, better than me. He makes our bed, every single morning. He will buy the girly products, proudly! He's the first one to grab my hand, even in church. He anticipates my needs, as though he's in my head. He put glow in the dark stars on our bedroom ceiling, just to suprise me when the lights went off. He watches chick flicks, when he wants to see action. He dances with me, even when he'd rather not. He's just wonderful, EVERY SINGLE DAY.

Put a Blanket over my Fish Bowl

Ever wonder what life is like for the poor fish who lives in a fishbowl? Everything that fish does is visible. Everything. I see my walk with Jesus like that fish in it's bowl. When you're called to ministry it's as though the tank got bigger but you're still a small little fish. All eyes are still on you only now, they can see even more of your world. There's a certain amount of expectation for a fish who has a bigger tank. Maintaining just who God made you to be while trying to live up to the "big fish" expectations. To be frank, it's intimidating and exhausting. I have more respect for those poor little fish who sit in that bowl. They can't be anything more than just fish, after all, that's who God made them to be. So how does a fish, who's just a fish, manage a visible life? What about those days they just want to swim sideways and upsidedown? The world is much bigger than this fish bowl comparison; however it's a reality for a Disciple of Jesus to swim in a fish bowl to be seen by the world-no matter how you're swimming. Wouldn't it be nice to take the pressure off for once and put a nice warm, cozy, fuzzy blanket over the fish bowl? Not to allow sin to take place, but simply to provide rest. The kind of rest that rejuvinates faith, joy and strength. I'm okay with my bowl sitting on the table for all to see, but occasionally I'd like a blanket over me.