That Morning I Thought the Kids Died

BRIE

I was almost to work, turning down a residential street when I smelled a strange odor. You know how smells can invoke certain remembers or believes? Well, this stench coupled with people that I recognized standing outside an apartment complex introduced into my brain a recent, local news article. A home complex had been shut down after a leak had been discovered. A few people had been procured deceased in their couches with carbon monoxide poisoning being the cause of death.

First, I predict I should tell you that my recollection is a wood of tangled dreams. It’s a Rand McNally roadmap of distorted tangents of mental madness. Call it over-thinking, call it a rabbit flaw. My head follows its own thought road forever. I’ll find myself “re thinking of” something off the wall and am wondering why I got there. I’ll backtrack through it, how one consider led to another, and usually be able to untangle the mess.

Okay. Where was I?

So, somehow a bouquet led to a news story, which gave rise to anticipates of an strange smell outside my RV since we started participating in the gas. This led to me recollecting how I turned up the heat before I left that morning, which led to me thinking of looking at my sleeping clas as I ambled out the door. I aimed up property at the conclusion that my husband and daughters could be suffering the effects of carbon monoxide poisoning at that extremely time!

carbon monoxide gas detector

Yes, we had a carbon monoxide gas detector!

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Yes, it was working the last hour I checked it!

No, I hadn’t checked it this morning!

They could be dying right now!

They could be dead already!

My whole world extended all at once!

What would I do ?!

Well, I wouldn’t lose faith in God.

Remember Job.

I wouldn’t crave a brand-new family, though, God.

I like the one I have.

I wouldn’t get remarried.

I’d be so lonely, though.

God, please don’t tell my family die.

This is silly, Brie. They’re not dead!

They could be.

God, are you trying to tell me something?

Should I call the police?

The feeling is so strong that something is wrong!

God! Help me hear your articulation! Are they ok ?!

My passions wanted to soar, but my flavor said[ to] settle down.

I trust you, Lord. I surrender this fearful situation to you. I know your hopes are to prosper me and not harm me. No was important that, I’ll ever trust in you. I know you maintain my family in the palm of your hand. They are yours; you just let me take care of them for you here on ground. I liberate this to you and let go of my fret. I pray they’re ok, but I rely you in all situations.

I quieted my spinning psyche, and at that point, I felt the Lord impress this upon my heart.

You asked me to drain your soul.

And so I had. Earlier in my travel, a worship song came on titled “Empty My Soul, ” with the premise of being refilled by more of God. I had sung along, and as I recited the words, had spoken them as a heartfelt prayer. So when He reminded me of that I realized that one residence that needed consistent emptying was my bent to dread, my perturb for things I couldn’t command, and my anxious thoughts.

This morning He had emptied those things out of me in a commotion, then He had shown me that He could change the uneasy specific areas of me with His sovereignty. Trusting in Him took up the rooms of my judgment and nerve where fret had resided. It was a good remember for me, and as soon as He had spoken the words above to my heart I felt treaty come over me like a blanket.

I knew my husband was fine.

I knew their own children were fine.

They were warm and slumber, and God was in control.

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