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Tuesday, March 16, 2010

Day 1

March 8th


I’m writing now because I can feel the shortness of breath sneaking in.

I’m feeling stressed, over-whelmed, a clenching in my jaw. I am biting my lip.

I’m a little dizzy.

It’s tornado season.

It will be 11 years in April. April 9th to be exact. Shoot. 4:05 a.m. April 9th of 1999 in Montgomery Ohio. To be exact.

7575 Cornell Road, Montgomery Ohio, to be exact.

The home of Lee and Jacque Cook-my parents to be exact-was struck by a tornado and killed them both.

Not quiet instantly-to be sadly and painfully exact-it cracked my father’s skull wide open and crushed ever bone in my mother’s body to the point that the first neighbor to rush to her said “she had no bones left” .

My heart in beating hard in my chests. I can’t exactly breathe. I’m gonna stop for a second and take three deep breaths and invite the Lord into my broken blown in heart.


In those breaths, I heard the Lord say “Good, Shannyn.”

I’m writing this because I’ve made the decision to heal this year.

Every year, when the spring comes and the snow begins to thaw, I begin to panic sometimes and break down sometimes, and run to the bottle (it’s only a little wine I say) sometimes. This season, this spring, when I begin to panic-I’m going to run to the keyboard and write it all down.

I broke down for the first time this year on Saturday night at a friend’s house.

She lives with her mother, or more like her mother lives with her, and she feels burdened.

I understand but it also tore me wide open. It was less like a scab being picked and more like post-operative sutures being torn apart my hand by someone who said “this won’t hurt” and the someone was me.

I thought I was healed enough to hang with a girl and her mom. I guess I was wrong and so I’ve declared war on my brokenness.

My Plan.

1-Journel. Journal every stinking time I can’t breathe, function, cope. When I’m breaking down-I’m going to journal. I’m doing it every single day. Even on the good days to recount the progress and the Lords goodness in my healing and in my pain.

2-Pray. I attend a small group on Wednesdays and Church on Sundays and I’ve spoken with my pastor. I’m getting all prayed up in whatever I feel I need prayer for and whatever my prayer partners feel lead to pray for.

That’s it.

That’s my healing strategy.

I don’t want another spring to go by and make me feel like I’ve been hit by a train or like I’m being hunted by a pack of dogs.

If that kind of brokenness is what the Lord needs to use me for his glory that I submit to His will but I am going to work hard to get my spring-times back.

Yesterday at church, my pastor, Jim Pool of the Royal Oak Vineyard outside Detroit Michigan, was teaching on honoring your Mother and Father.

I totally lost it in the back row and wept and wept and wept silently. I’ve gotten good at silent weeping, but a wonderful older couple in our church, Tom and Mary Quinlan noticed. They come to me and laid hands on me and spoke healing into my brokenness.

I said “I still feel like I’ve been hit in the chest with a cannon ball”.

Mary said, “When you feel that feeling-don’t ask the Lord to take it away. Ask Him to fill it.”

So now as I feel this brokenness, which at the moment, feels more softball than cannon ball sized, I’m asking the Lord to fill that spot and now it feels like a golf ball.

Thank, Lord.

My scripture today is from Psalm 103

Bless the Lord, O my soul, and all that is within me, bless His holy name.

All that is within me.

That means my broken heart.

My broken heart blesses you name, Lord Jesus.


Jesus, you came to reconcile ALL things to the Father. (Colossians 1:20)

That includes the tornado, my parent’s death and the ruined shell of a girl that was left behind. Me.

I believe you; please help my disbelief (Mathew)

God, send your spirit of healing to me and to all the broken and lost and fill our brokenness by your power.

Meet me here.

Touch my inmost being.

I love you, Father and even though I don’t understand You, I trust you and all of my hope is in you.

Thank you for giving me the courage to walk through this valley of darkness and in the shadow of death.

I know that you are with me. Send me comfort.

In the name of the healer Jesus, I ask.


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