Hospital Rooms and TRUST

Hello once again blogger friends!  I know that I have been absent for quite some time, and just maybe you missed me;)  The past two weeks I’ve been living in the mixer (or that’s at least what it felt like at times).

On Good Friday, my mother and I took my father into the emergency room because he had been experiencing dizziness, vomiting, numbness, and headaches since that Wednesday.  We all thought that it was the flu or a sinus/ear infection, but a MRI showed that he had actually suffered a pretty major stroke.  I felt as if the wind had been knocked out of me.  Strokes are for elderly people that I don’t know, not for my forty-nine year old father.  My mind raced- would he ever be able to walk again? would this keep recurring? how long would he have to be in the hospital? how could we run the business without him? what would happen to the bills? would he ever be “normal” again?  I tried to be optimistic and cheerful for Mom and Dad’s sake, but the sobs lodged in my throat threatened to suffocate me.

Four or five hours later, we moved from the emergency room to a second-story hospital room.  I notified Dad’s family that we would not be attending the early Easter dinner that was scheduled for that afternoon and then tried to get some rest while waiting to hear from the doctors.  The nap didn’t go well, and neither did hearing from the doctors.  Finally the neurologist stopped in at 8:30 that evening, but he still couldn’t tell from the cat-scans, MRI, and ultrasound what had caused the stroke.  He did say that Dad was very lucky that his symptoms were mild for the damage that had been done.  I call it the Hand of God.

I left Dad for the night and headed home quite worried yet, but very thankful that Dad’s speech and thinking had not been affected.  I hurried through my work Saturday morning so that I could be with Dad again for the rest of the day.  When Mom and I came in to the hospital, Dad just held onto Mom and wept.  I stood back, feeling helpless.  I rarely every saw my strong father cry.  He was always there when I needed someone to lean upon; and now here he was, lying in a hospital bed, weeping, and unable to control his balance and use of his left leg.  Gradually the sunshine, the beautiful country scenery outside the hospital room window, and Mom and I cheered him up and gave him some hope again.

Easter dawned bright and beautiful.  I couldn’t sleep so I got up early and baked some cupcakes to take in for the hospital staff on Dad’s floor.  This time our arrival was met by a much cheerier father, who was quite proud of the walker that therapists had given him.  He was also relieved to have some of the feeling and use of his left leg back.  We had our own little Easter service in that hospital room surrounded by beeping noises and medicinal smells, but it was more special than ever because we were together.

The hospital finally released Dad on Monday, and we proudly took him home.  Things were different.  Dad had always worked before the sunrise and after the sunset, but now he tired quickly and rested often.  I noticed a good change though, somehow being helpless in that hospital room had given him time to think about how precious each moment is…and he became more relaxed and able to enjoy everything more fully.  Meanwhile my brother had stepped up and taken charge of the business, making important decisions and working incredibly hard to do both his and Dad’s work.

That was almost a week ago that Dad came home, and a lot has happened between then and now.  Dad started attending therapy and doing as much work as he could to build himself up little by little.  He now has moved from the walker to the cane, and doesn’t tire nearly as quickly as before.  He still has trouble with his balance, but God has done amazing works of healing so far so I will keep praying for full recovery.  The doctors still aren’t sure of the cause of the stroke, but Dad will be going in for more testing in two weeks. 

There have been friends and family that blessed us with visits, cards, help, support, prayers, phone calls, and emails during the past two weeks.  There’s a song that says “You find out who your friends are” (Tracy Lawrence), and that really is true.  God has put His arms around my family and I through the people beside us.

The whole experience mixed my comfy little world up pretty well, even though it really wasn’t nearly as major as what some people go through; but I had life going the way that I wanted.  I had the year scheduled out for what I would be doing, where I would be going, and what dreams I would be accomplishing.  God looked at me and said that I really wasn’t trusting and relying upon Him; so He mixed things up a bit.  The family and business need me for right now, and I really have no major future plans anymore except to go day by day with God leading the way.  I realize now that I was putting far too much importance on some very trivial things, when the most valuable things in my life are right around me- like a caring and sacrificing mother, a loving and creative father, a brave and wise brother, friends who are strong for me when I am weak, and most of all a Savior Who died on my behalf and then is willing to walk step by step with me through whatever happens if I trust Him. 

My word that I picked back in January for the year is TRUST- kinda appropriate don’t ya think? 

Anyways, just thought I’d explain my absence=)  You’all have a wonderful evening!

It’s a sweet trip to the candy shop

Daily Prompt:  What’s your biggest junk food weakness? Tell us all about it in its sugary, salty, glory.

Junk food hasn’t really been a huge thing for me…  I don’t receive any enjoyment from chips, instead they make me feel greasy and salty.  Donuts and cakes are uninteresting to my taste buds; and even sweet drinks do not impress me much.  Hot dogs and frozen meals taste as fake as cardboard and usually make me feel sick in my stomach.

I think a lot is due to the fact that my mother tried to raise us children on three healthy meals a day without a bunch of junk food to coat our systems with nastiness.  When we would go to the cabins with friends, they would snack all day long on whatever junk food they found laying around, and then they would not be hungry for a proper meal.  I could never quite understand how Pringles could be more appealing than grilled chicken and baked potatoes, but I guess each person has his own likes.  When the hereditary diabetic problems began to tickle me with its nasty fingers, I started to limit my sweets and junk food intake all the more.  It is surprising how when you give something up, it does not even taste good when you go back to it.  Pies used to call my name, but now they taste sugary and blah.

However before I sound perfect in my food-intake choices, I should let you know that I still do have a huge weakness.  This weakness comes in the form of frozen yogurt machines with countless choices of flavored yogurt, followed by miles of toppings like fudge, cookie dough, granola, cinnamon cereal, peanut-butter sauce….

And the thing is, I can con myself into believing how good it is for me since there are options for non-fat, low-calorie, and sugar-free yogurts.  When I arrive at the scales and my non-fat yogurt is weighed in, I soon realize though that the fun toppings which I could not resist account for most of the weight and completely do away with my good intentions.  But oh, that chocolatey, peanut-buttery goodness just melts in your mouth!  I guess everyone has their battles, and mine will continue to be with the frozen yogurt shops that are encamped around my neighborhood.  But I shall boost my self-control and win (well, that is, after I have at least one more peace talk with the enemy)!

“I’ve thrown away my toys,
Even my drums and trains,
I want to make some noise,
With real live airplanes.
Some day I’m going to fly,
I’ll be a pilot to,
And when I do,
How would you,
Like to be my crew?
On the good ship
Lollipop
Its a sweet trip
To the candy shop
Where bon-bon’s play,
On the sunny beach
Of peppermint bay
Lemonade stands,
Everywhere
Crackerjack bands,
Fill the air,
And there you are,
Happy landings on a chocolate bar.
See the sugar bowl
Do a tootsie roll
In a big bad devils food cake,
If you eat too much,
Oh, oh,
You’ll awake,
With a tummy ache.
On the good ship
Lollipop
Its a nice trip,
In to bed you hop,
And dream away,
On the good ship
Lollipop.” – Whiting and Clare….sung by Shirley Temple

Buckets, Lists, and Dreams!

The daily prompt for today is to create a list; so I decided to share some of my bucket list in hopes that I can hear about some of your *dreams*!  My father is a dreamer; he often says that everyone needs to have a dream to plot and plan and chew on.  God intended for man to dream and hope.  Abraham kept hope for years that he would have a son.  David dreamed and planned the building of the tabernacle- he never actually was able to accomplish it, but his son did.  Some times, God gives us specific dreams so that His will may be accomplished, and some times our dreams are just fantasy and may never actually happen.  As long as we’re open to God’s plans and forming our hopes on Him and not against Him, I think He likes to see us DREAM.  So go ahead- dream big!

A few things from my Bucket List—-  I won’t tell you all of them, and let me quote Jamie from the movie A Walk to Remember, “I’d tell you, but then I’d have to kill you” – okay, I really wouldn’t (remember I’m nonresistant;).  Some are crazy, unachievable, and will never happen, some are of no real value except to say that I did it, and some are great ambitions….but all are fun to dream!

-Tutor children with learning disabilities and have the privilege of helping them learn and understand
-Visit all 50 states (only need Alaska, Hawaii, North Dakota, and Maine yet)
-Own a vintage VW Beetle
-Go on CAM’s disaster relief teams
-See the northern lights
-Help out at a children’s home and work with foster-care kids that are hurting and neglected
-Set foot on all of the continents
-Camp on the water, on a raft
-Be in a professional musical (favorite choices would be “The Sound of Music” or “Anne of Green Gables”)
-Publish a book through a reputable publisher—– and then write some more and publish some more and write some more…..
-Volunteer at a children’s hospital
-Teach first grade
-Have a library in my house
-But most of all I want my life to be this quote

“I don’t want to drive up to the pearly gates in a shiny sports car, wearing beautifully, tailored clothes, my hair expertly coiffed, and with long, perfectly manicured fingernails.
I want to drive up in a station wagon that has mud on the wheels from taking kids to scout camp.
I want to be there with a smudge of peanut butter on my shirt from making sandwiches for a sick neighbors children.
I want to be there with a little dirt under my fingernails from helping to weed someone’s garden.
I want to be there with children’s sticky kisses on my cheeks and the tears of a friend on my shoulder.
I want the Lord to know I was really here and that I really lived.”

Now it’s time to share some of your bucket-list dreams.  I would love to hear about them=)

Wisdom from the Smallest: What Children’s Books Teach Us

 “A children’s story that can only be enjoyed by children is not a good children’s story in the slightest.”

― C.S. Lewis

“You can’t stay in your corner of the Forest waiting for others to come to you. You have to go to them sometimes.”
― A.A. Milne, Winnie-the-Pooh

 

“A person’s a person, no matter how small.”
― Dr. Seuss, Horton Hears a Who!

“It’s not what the world holds for you. It’s what you bring to it.”
― L.M. Montgomery, Anne of Green Gables

“… if God took the trouble to tell us eight hundred times to be glad and rejoice, He must want us to do it—SOME.”
― Eleanor H. Porter, Pollyanna

“It seems like once people grow up, they have no idea what’s cool.”
― Bill Watterson, The Complete Calvin and Hobbes

“Why did you do all this for me?’ he asked. ‘I don’t deserve it. I’ve never done anything for you.’ ‘You have been my friend,’ replied Charlotte. ‘That in itself is a tremendous thing.”
― E.B. White, Charlotte’s Web

“It can’t beat us!” Pa said.
“Can’t it, Pa?” Laura asked stupidly.
“No,” said Pa. “It’s got to quit sometime and we don’t. It can’t lick us. We won’t give up.”
Then Laura felt a warmth inside her. It was very small but it was strong. It was steady, like a tiny light in the dark, and it burned very low but no winds could make it flicker because it would not give up.”
― Laura Ingalls Wilder, The Long Winter

“I am sorry to say that Peter was not very well during the evening. His mother put him to bed, and made some camomile tea; and she gave a dose of it to Peter!
‘One table-spoonful to be taken at bed-time.’
But Flopsy, Mopsy, and Cotton-tail had bread and milk and blackberries for supper.”
― Beatrix Potter, The Tale of Peter Rabbit

“It made her think that it was curious how much nicer a person looked when he smiled. She had not thought of it before.”
― Frances Hodgson Burnett, The Secret Garden

“People should think twice before making rude remarks,” said Mrs. Lambchop. “And then not make them at all.”
― Jeff Brown, Flat Stanley

“None of the children knew who Aslan was any more than you do; but the moment the Beaver had spoken these words everyone felt quite different. Perhaps it has sometimes happened to you in a dream that someone says something which you don’t understand but in the dream it feels as if it had some enormous meaning–either a terrifying one which turns the whole dream into a nightmare or else a lovely meaning too lovely to put into words, which makes the dream so beautiful that you remember it all your life and are always wishing you could get into that dream again. It was like that now. At the name of Aslan each one of the children felt something jump in it’s inside. Edmund felt a sensation of mysterious horror. Peter felt suddenly brave and adventurous. Susan felt as if some delicious smell or some delightful strain of music had just floated by her. And Lucy got the feeling you have when you wake up in the morning and realize that it is the beginning of the holidays or the beginning of Summer.”
― C.S. Lewis, The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe

“I shall be satisfied if young people who read this record of our lives and adventures should learn from it how admirably suited is the peaceful, industrious life of a cheerful and united family to the formation of strong, pure, and manly character.”
― Johann David Wyss, The Swiss Family Robinson

“Real isn’t how you are made,’ said the Skin Horse. ‘It’s a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real.’ ‘Does it hurt?’ asked the Rabbit.
‘Sometimes,’ said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. ‘When you are Real you don’t mind being hurt.’
‘Does it happen all at once, like being wound up,’ he asked, ‘or bit by bit?’
‘It doesn’t happen all at once,’ said the Skin Horse. ‘You become. It takes a long time. That’s why it doesn’t happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don’t matter at all, because once you are Real you can’t be ugly, except to people who don’t understand.”
― Margery Williams, The Velveteen Rabbit

Footprints on the Sands of Time

Footprints on the Sands of Time

Daily Prompt:  Wasted Days and Wasted Nights

Time is a gift that is given to each of us.  Some of us have eighty years in our box, and some of us only have twenty.  We have no idea what amount is in the gift that we hold in our hands.  Our gift is nonexchangeable; and once spent, it can never be regained.

Sobering thought when you think about it.  We can either spend our gift with nothing to show for it or we can use our time to create and build something that will far outlast us.  The things that will outlast our lives are the lives of others, our reputation and heritage, and our service for God.  I too often have spent my time on pointless activities instead of investing into the ones around me; crafting a legacy of honor, honesty, and love; and working as the hands of God on earth.

It is so easy to let a day go by and then realize that it was completely worthless.  How can I use each second, each minute, each hour, and each day to the fullest so that I can give my very best to each moment?

Lists are great ways to accomplish what needs to be done; yet I need to remember that I should not be so focused on what needs to get done that I neglect the special little things of life.  I need to do my job, but yet I need to take time to gaze at sunsets, dance in rain showers, and run in the salty ocean breezes.  I need to make sure that my family is taken care of, but yet I need to take the time to hug them and truly listen to what they are saying.  I need to do my Christian responsibilities, but yet I need to take the time to see each person as a precious individual, look into their eyes and feel their pain, and help to bind their wounds.  Those special things are what will be “the footprints in the sands of time”.

Perhaps the very best way to get things done and not waste time is to remember that time can be wasted.

I think I’ll write myself a note that I can see every morning before I crawl out of bed to remind myself of the gift that I have been given- so that I can always use it to its fullest potential!

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807-1882)
A PSALM OF LIFE

“TELL me not, in mournful numbers,
Life is but an empty dream ! —
For the soul is dead that slumbers,
And things are not what they seem.
Life is real !   Life is earnest!
And the grave is not its goal ;
Dust thou art, to dust returnest,
Was not spoken of the soul.
Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,
Is our destined end or way ;
But to act, that each to-morrow
Find us farther than to-day.
Art is long, and Time is fleeting,
And our hearts, though stout and brave,
Still, like muffled drums, are beating
Funeral marches to the grave.
In the world’s broad field of battle,
In the bivouac of Life,
Be not like dumb, driven cattle !
Be a hero in the strife !
Trust no Future, howe’er pleasant !
Let the dead Past bury its dead !
Act,— act in the living Present !
Heart within, and God o’erhead !
Lives of great men all remind us
We can make our lives sublime,
And, departing, leave behind us
Footprints on the sands of time ;
Footprints, that perhaps another,
Sailing o’er life’s solemn main,
A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,
Seeing, shall take heart again.
Let us, then, be up and doing,
With a heart for any fate ;
Still achieving, still pursuing,
Learn to labor and to wait.”

Do, Re, Mi...

Daily Prompt:  If you’re feeling blah, what is the one thing you do that you can count on to put a smile on your face?

As I was growing up, whenever there was some kind of emotional problem in the family, Dad’s solution was to SING.  When my brother and I were scared, we would sing “When I am afraid, I will trust in Him”.  When I was complaining, I would have to sing “Count your many blessings”.  As weird as it sounds, it worked.  At first I would grudgingly mutter the words, but before long there was complete energy and volume coming out of my mouth and a smile upon my face.

Even now, when I am in “the depths of despair” (a quote I can’t help but love from Anne of Green Gables), I will go sit down at the piano, pull out a songbook, and start singing random songs to lift my mood.

There are times when life seems so hard that the last thing a person wants to do is sing….but I have found that those are the times when singing is needed the most.  No matter how hard it is, it needs to be done.

Singing in some unexplainable way has power with it.  Watch a crowd at a concert compared to a crowd at a speaking event.  Music reaches the soul faster than words.  Somehow it is easier to sing one’s feelings than to speak them.

God designed music from the beginning of time- listen to the birds chirping, waves crashing, leaves rustling, wind howling, kittens purring, rain dripping, thunder rolling, and children giggling.  The whole earth can’t help but join in the symphony of praise to the Creator.  That, I believe, is why music can put a smile on my face when I am feeling blah.  God allows us to use music as a form of prayer and communication with Him when feelings can not be put into mere words.

Of course whatever God made for good, the Enemy tries to destroy and warp.  Just as positive music can uplift, motivate, and encourage so can negative music discourage, irritate, and incite harmful passions and thoughts.  Music is so powerful, that left in the wrong hands, it can cause chaos and confusion and a ripping of the soul.   That is why the lyrics of a song are very important as well, because words with music are absorbed more quickly than the spoken word by itself.

Don’t quite believe yet the power of song?

David’s playing of the harp quieted the evil spirit within Saul.

Paul and Silas’ singing sparked an earthquake.

On the last night with His disciples, Jesus sang with them.

Miriam burst into song after the crossing of the Red Sea.

David, the man after God’s own heart, was continually singing and writing psalms.

Athletes take advantage of music to boost their training.

Research is being done on how music helps those suffering from dementia and autism.

Music therapy is used to help some hospital patients.

It is being discovered that music causes the brain to release dopamine, which is a chemical responsible for feelings of pleasure.

Colossians 3:16 – Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly in all wisdom; teaching and admonishing one another in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing with grace in your hearts to the Lord.

Isn’t it beautiful that we hold such an important key within our larynx!  That key unlocks the door to our soul so that God can refresh and renew us when we lift our voices up to Him through songs of praise and prayer.

You can take the girl from the country, but not the country from the girl

Daily Prompt-  Look out your back window or door — describe what you see, as if you were trying to convey the scene to someone from another country or planet.

I look out my back door, and fences greet me.  They subtly remind me that I am boxed in by neighbors; they tell me that I am now an adult and should be to busy to care about what lies out the back door anymore.  I can see patches of grass and blue sky, but there is something missing; and I can’t help but feel sad about the way humans build and close out the nature that God created.

My absolute favorite years of my life were spent as a child in the country.  Growing up, I could look out my back door and see rolling fields of brown and green hues.  I could hear the farm animals in the distance, and I loved the sound of chickens, cows, horses, and dogs.  I would watch the Amish farmers cultivate the deep rich soil with their team of horses and plow.    Soon, life would begin to spring from the quiet ground.  By summer, there were miles of corn dancing and waving in the country breezes that would blow off the mountain.  I would stand beside the field and look up as the corn would tower above my head and tickle my face with its leaves and tassels.  Fall would come and turn the corn stalks that were left standing into a lonely brown color.  They reminded me of a remnant left behind to face the cold weather on their own.  Pumpkins would start to fill the neighboring fields with shades of brilliant orange.  I would spend countless hours outside gazing at the mountain as it would change into its autumn garment.  Slowly the green leaves of the trees were swept into golds, auburns, mauves, crimsons, and lemon colors.  Then the snow would come and blanket everything in a deep sleep.

I had the most beautiful childhood experiences in the countryside outside my back door.  Spring would find me searching for the first crocus so I could hope that life was starting again.  Then the daffodils and tulips would follow with their cheery faces.  I could not help but feel happy when they smiled at me.  I would find the carefully constructed nests of the robins and then peek in on the eggs from time to time.  I was fascinated when the eggs slowly broke open and scrawny little red creatures appeared.  But those alien-like birdlings were soon covered in down and would quickly devour the food their parents brought them, until they were finally old enough and big enough to strike out on their own.  I would say goodbye as the nest emptied and hoped that next spring would bring Mom and Dad Robin back again to start another family.
Summers were full of dandelions and butterflies.  I would run through the grass barefoot, playing tag and tug-of-war with the dogs.  Dad would grill something on the weekend evenings, and we would have a grand picnic outside.  There was nothing quite like a summer rain; the smell after a rainstorm was indescribable.  I could watch a thunderstorm coming in- the trees would whip back and forth; the sky would turn shades of dark blue, green, and purple; huge clouds would mount in the distance like giants preparing for attack; hail and rain would pelt the house; and I would quickly run downstairs to seek shelter from the booms of thunder and the white strikes of lightning.  Rain meant that there was mud to use in my pretend bakery, and I would create mud cakes and cookies and other “delicious” pastries.  My brother and I would spend our day outside until we were tired and grass-stained, and then fall into a happy sleep while the lightning bugs were our nightlights and the crickets sang us bedtime lullabyes.

Fall was filled with raking leaves and then jumping into the huge piles we gathered.  There were searches for crickets to feed to my pet praying mantis that I loved dearly.  I thoroughly enjoyed the break from the humidity of June, July, and August and relished the cold nip in the air that would turn my nose red.  The last of the garden would be gathered before letting it retire for the next few months, and the whole earth seemed to be preparing for hibernation.  Campfires and hayrides were autumn highlights that will long be treasured in my bank of memories.  Nothing can replace the smell of the fire, the taste of the s’mores, and the laughing with friends and family while bumping along on scratchy hay bales.

Winter brought snow with it, which meant more outdoor fun.  There were snowball fights, snowmen creating, snowfort and igloo building, and fox and geese games.  There was a little group of trees at the corner of the house that made a tiny hideaway which became magical after a snowstorm.  In my childhood imagination, that place became enchanted and seemed to hold ancient tales of adventure.  My very favorite part of winter was when it would start snowing right at dusk.  I liked to stand outside and feel the flakes falling on my face.  It seemed as if I was the only person in the white, quiet, magical world around me.  In the morning, I would look out the back door and see nothing but white.  There were no human footsteps on it yet to destroy the purity of the beauty.

Those were the things that I saw out my back door; those were the moments that are priceless; those are the “back door” occasions that I wish every child could experience.  My back door no longer looks over those things; but if I close my eyes, I can still see the country joys that awaited me outside my childhood’s back door!

Strong in their Behalf

Yesterday I was reading in my devotions about King Asa.

It seems that King Baasha of Israel was trying to gain control; so he started to build the city of Ramah to put King Asa under siege.  Of course, this worried King Asa , and he immediately started thinking about who could come to his rescue.  Well, he remembered one of his alliances and asked for King Benhadad, the Syrian king’s, help.  King Benhadad came to King Asa’s aid (after receiving great treasures of silver and gold from the Lord’s House as payment), King Baasha left and stopped building the city of Ramah, and everything seemed like it worked out fine for King Asa.  That is, until God sent a messenger to tell King Asa that he, the grand king of Judah, had made a really big mistake—- never once had he asked for God’s help.

“Because thou hast relied on the king of Syria, and not relied on the Lord thy God, therefore is the host of the king of Syria escaped out of thine hand.
⁸ Were not the Ethiopians and the Lubims a huge host, with very many chariots and horsemen? yet, because thou didst rely on the Lord, he delivered them into thine hand.
⁹ For the eyes of the Lord run to and fro throughout the whole earth, to shew himself strong in the behalf of them whose heart is perfect toward him. Herein thou hast done foolishly: therefore from henceforth thou shalt have wars.” (2 Chronicles 16:7-9)

God is telling King Asa that He would have been more than happy to help out.  He is constantly looking for those who are willing for Him to step in and take control.  He even recalls the past times when He helped out King Asa because of the king’s reliance upon Him.


The really sad thing though is that King Asa did not learn his lesson.  The Bible continues his story until the end of his life, and this is how it ends.

“¹² And Asa in the thirty and ninth year of his reign was diseased in his feet, until his disease was exceeding great: yet in his disease he sought not to the Lord, but to the physicians.
¹³ And Asa slept with his fathers, and died in the one and fortieth year of his reign.“  (2 Chronicles 16:12-13)

So I had to stop and think- how often do I really rely upon God?  When a problem arises, I run to my parents or my mentors for advice.  When I’m lonely, I seek my friends.  When I’m confused, I turn up the music or pour myself into a book.  When life is going well, I rely upon myself to make decisions and keep everything going smoothly.


For the past month I felt like the hard things of life were drowning me.  I tried on my own strength to overcome, but it didn’t work.  It was not until I finally gave up and let God that things started to make sense and the fog started to clear.  But why does it take me so long to give up?  Why don’t I go to God first of all?
Is it because of pride?  Is it because I simply take God’s strength for granted?

God wants to help me out.  He watches as I stumble and slip through the mud.  He watches as I fall and scrape my knees on the sharp rocks.  He is walking beside me, reaching out His Hand.  All I have to do is REACH UP.  All I have to do is take His hand, and say, I can’t do it on my own.  Then He will lift me into His arms, dry my tears, bandage my wounds, and carry me through the rugged, hard land.

“For the eyes of the Lord run to and fro throughout the whole earth, to shew himself strong in the behalf of them whose heart is perfect toward him.“