August 19, 2015 - Beginning

Hi, my name is Kim Norton.  I live in Northwest Arkansas with my husband of 24 years and two beautiful daughters.  This is my daily journal.  Hopefully, if you find this it will be an encouragement to you in some way.  I pray God's very best for you today and everyday!


August 19, 2015

I've been going through a transformation over the past few months that has been WAY LONG OVERDUE.   If you hit rewind on my life back 6 years ago, my life was altered. Shattered might be a better word.  Up to that point in my life, I was a happily married momma of two, loved the Lord and had served in congregational ministry for 8 years.  I then produced a series of music based Bible Memorization CD's called The Kingdom Kidz Club and marketed those nationally at christian retail and through events around the country.  We had sacrificed every penny and then some to get it to retail and didn't have the funds to full out market it so we were drained.  I remember sitting out front of Lincoln Junior High waiting on my daughter and thinking, "I don't have any more to give."

Shortly after that, our family was relocated to Central Arkansas for my husbands job.  Four days after we moved, my father suffered a catastrophic heart attack and my summer was spent in the ICU waiting room living day to day on whether or not he was going to make it.  He slowly recovered and school was starting so we made our way back to Central Arkansas.  The first day of one of my daughter's 4th grade year was perhaps the worst day of her life.  When she raised her hand to tell her teacher that her previous school only taught Denilion and not cursive, the teacher (with a mic on so the whole class heard) berated her in front of the class and went on a rant about she is not prepared to be in this class.  My sensitive child broke.  We attempted moving her to another class but after a month realized that we were going to have to make a dramatic change, so I pulled her and home schooled her.  My older daughter was not taking the move well either and when she cried out, "Momma, I just want to go home."  We made the decision to move back to NWA, even if it meant Patrick finding a new job.

On top of ALL of that, I was working as a Children's Pastor in a local congregation and went through a very difficult situation.  I am not at liberty to divulge the details but at the time I needed support and answers and was unable to get closure. I was hurt and angry and coupled with the stress my children were under and my father's failing health...something shut off inside of me.

The only word picture I can give you is it was like the faucet of my heart that normally flowed with love, compassion, mercy and worship was manually shut off.  Not even a drip was coming out of that baby.

I floated along for a while on the reserves I had still in my spirit.  The kids went back to their schools in NWA and were elated.  My father was getting better.  I was happy in a new job.  However, I could feel that something was different inside of me.  The worship, the creativity and the songs that had flowed out of me for decades was gone.  At first I thought it was classic writers block.  Nope.  It was worse...much worse.

May 2011 my father went to UAMS for a "minor" surgery to remove a benign mass that was in his carotid/neck area.  He was only to stay one night and then discharge the next day to come home.  The surgery was a success and we had a wonderful evening talking to my Dad about everything under the sun.  We all went back to the hotel to rest and were heading out the door to come pick him up when he called us to tell us he was discharged.  On the phone with my mom, he had a massive blood clot hit his heart and he stopped breathing.  The nurse took the phone and said that Mr. McMillan couldn't talk right now.  We rushed to the hospital and found that he was on life support but was without oxygen for over 20 minutes.  After 3 days of waiting, hoping and praying, we were told he was brain dead and we had to make the decision to remove him from life support.

My mom had a breakdown over the events and the next 3 years was spent with her in our home. During that time, we were in but mostly out of church.  We couldn't leave my mom and as I previously stated, my spiket was shut off so I was walking through life...completely numb.  I did not lose my faith in God or my knowledge of Jesus Christ as my Savior.  I just didn't feel anything and I was mad.  Mad at how things ended at my previous ministry position, mad at the way a teacher carelessly and single-handedly ruined my daughters trust in teachers, mad at my dad dying, mad at the doctors who should have given him blood thinners, mad that the thing I LOVED "Kingdom Kidz Club" was essentially dead.  AND, the job I had been working went bye-bye when the economy tanked which cut our income in half. To top it off, we had not figured our taxes correctly during a time I was self-employed and the IRS came to our door.  Yes, they do make house calls.  No notices...nothing.

That was the final straw.  I broke.  On my face before the Lord I unloaded. There was nothing left.  Where had all of my anger gotten me? Nowhere except bitterville.  I didn't want to be that person anymore.  Maybe God gave our pastor a sermon series just for me or more likely, I was now open to hear the Word of the Lord but whatever, I started allowing God to feed me.

More tomorrow