I started writing this prayer when we first found out that my dad was being put on hospice. I couldn’t finish it. The fear and mourning kept me from finding the words to put down. Only after he passed away was I able to finish this prayer.

Lord,

I know who You are.

I know who my God is.

I know the power of Your words.

That with the words of Your mouth the heavens were created.

With words alone You spoke the earth into existence.

With words alone You created all things!

With words alone You called for Lazarus to come out,

And at the words of His God, he walked out.

So I know who my God is!

When I cried out to You and asked to send a ram to take my father’s place,

You reminded me that You loved him first.

That You are the One who formed him in his mother’s womb.

You are the One who wove him together to be fearfully and wonderfully made.

You are the One that whispered his name in his mother’s ear to crown him in humility.

You said, “I will either send the ram, or I will come to get him Myself.”

Because that is who my God is!

I have asked You for another miracle.

And with that You reminded me that when the blind man could not see,

You didn’t cleanse his eyes with water.

No, You rubbed mud in his eyes and only then told him to open his eyes to see.

The miracles You give, they do not always come how we expect.

So when I believed that You would heal him,

I didn’t expect it to be in heaven.

But I know who my God is!

My heart couldn’t wrap around what my head already knew.

I truly believed that the ram would be sent.

Despite the fact that even the night before he passed,

He said, “Jesus is coming to get me!”

And as I held his hand and knew he was about to meet You,

I couldn’t find the courage to whisper for him to go.

I waited for You to call out to him.

To tell him to get up by the power of Your words.

But instead, You whispered for him to “come”.

Because that is who my God is!

It still doesn’t feel real to me. That he’s gone.

You gave us 3 years to prepare, but no amount of time would have been enough.

Three years. That time is no coincidence.

You say it takes 3 years to bear fruit.

And bear fruit is exactly what he did with the years that You gave him.

He didn’t do what the enemy had hoped for.

He didn’t despair or fall into depression.

No, he lived joyously and fervently.

Because he knew who his God was!

And the seeds from his life will bear fruit to a thousand generations.

Not just in his children, but in the lives of many.

He honored his wife and loved her as You loved the church.

The example he set will be to a thousand generations.

He raised his children in the way that they should go, and they did not stray from it.

The example he set will be to a thousand generations.

He relished the reward of his grandchildren, and he enjoyed them to the fullest.

The example he set will be to a thousand generations.

He was a friend who challenged others to meet the highest good with kindness and mercy.

The example he set will be to a thousand generations.

He was a leader who did not abuse authority but instead lowered himself to raise others up.

The example he set will be to a thousand generations.

He was none of these things on his own.

He was all of these things because he was in fellowship with You.

Because he knew who his God was!

I miss him. I grieve and mourn that he’s gone.

But I rejoice in knowing that he is whole.

I rejoice in knowing that his body has been transformed.

I rejoice in knowing that he is crowned in righteousness.

I rejoice in knowing that he has finished his race.

I rejoice in knowing that he heard Your words telling him, “well done”.

I rejoice because I know that I will see him again.

And I am able to rejoice,

Because I know who my God is!

Amen.

When I was on my way to the hospital after having started contractions with my first child, I was so excited. We had made the 40-minute drive from our house to the hospital with my bag in hand only to be told I wasn’t far enough along for them to admit me. I had zero desire to spend another 40 minutes in the car only to turn back around and do it all over again. They had given me the option to instead, walk around the hospital for 45 minutes, lay down for 45 minutes and then walk for another 45. That seemed like the better option as I would at least still be at the hospital.

Fortunately, that got things moving and I was admitted. Once I got settled in the room and was hooked up to all the monitors, my parents joined my husband and I in the room. There were a few chairs down at the foot of the bed that my parents sat in as we settled in for the next few hours of labor. At one point, my dad got up and walked into the bathroom and emerged a few seconds later with some wet paper towels. He walked to the foot of my bed and began to quietly wipe the bottom of my feet.

What I hadn’t said earlier was that I hadn’t been prepared to do all the walking and didn’t bring socks, which left me to do an hour and a half worth of walking barefoot up and down the halls of the hospital. Being large and pregnant, I couldn’t see my feet and how dirty they were. But my dad, without being prompted or mentioning a word, quietly wiped down the feet of his baby girl.

That is the kind of man my dad was. That was the kind of father he was. It’s been one month exactly since I held his hand as he passed from this life to the next. The pain of watching him draw his last breath was something I had hope to never experience, but something I wouldn’t have wanted to miss. The last words we spoke to each other were when I bent down to kiss him on the cheek the night before to say goodnight. He whispered in my ear, “You know how much I love you right?” I didn’t have to think about how to answer that question. “Yes. You know how much I love you right?” was my question back to him.

The last words we exchanged felt like a beautiful summary of the 36 years I got with him. Because the truth is, he constantly reaffirmed his love for me. There was not a day that I ever doubted how much my daddy loved me. The story above is just one small example of his love. Whether he said the words out loud or showed me with actions, I knew he loved me. From being exhausted and still doing Indian princess with me, to showing up at every single volleyball game no matter where they were, to crying and refusing to leave when I moved 45 minutes away, to saying “her mother and her” when asked who gives this woman at my wedding rehearsal, to wiping my feet when I was in labor, to constantly watching all 3 of my children so I could go play with my mom and the list could go on and on.

The night before my dad’s last doctor appointment, I had felt God prompting me to look up what my dad’s name meant. His first name means, “crowned” while his middle name means, “humility”. When God says “Before I formed you in your mother’s womb; I knew you”…I imagine this is what He meant. I picture God whispering his name in my grandmother’s ears while my dad was in the womb as he was a certainly a man crowned with humility. He honored God, cherished his wife, led his children, and enjoyed his grandchildren. By no means was he perfect, but as a friend referred to her dad after his passing, “he was perfect for me”.

It feels far too long since I’ve sat down and written anything. I’ve thought about so many things to type out about what all God has been doing, but the motivation to actually do it never came. I couldn’t bring myself to type the words out. As I’ve stated a few times already, the last couple of years in my life have felt like I was just on survival mode. It was simply just trying to get through each day. And being in that place, sitting down to write about the things that God was hard. I couldn’t write anything because I was so busy just trying to understand it. Trying to grasp at something…anything.

But when God reveals, sometimes you just have to get it out. So here I sit again, reveling in His revealing! Several weeks ago, my mom sent me a song and told me that God had given her names of certain women and was told to send them the song. She explained that God told her why to send it to the other women, but nothing for me. Only that she was to send it to me. It’s a song I had heard many times before, but still I turned it on and listened. When I got to a certain point in the song, I started crying. And not pretty tears. I mean full on ugly crying (and of course it was as I was trying to get ready for work). I didn’t know why something I had heard so many times suddenly moved me to tears.

I’ve listened to it many times since then and every time at the same point in the song, I either tear up or cry. I still didn’t know why God had my mom send it to me or why it stirred something in me. Until today that is. I was thinking back on the word that is in the song and that I’ve gotten a few times since. “Glory”. I know that God has been telling me that this year, I will see His Glory but I still didn’t know what He meant.

This song I mentioned tells the story of Hagar, Ruth, David and Mary Magdala. When she sings of Hagar, Ruth and David, she sings of God meeting their needs where they are. That’s where I was last year. God was busy meeting all my needs through the loss of a family pet, my husbands deployment, a freeze, a flooded home and sudden move, a child’s broken arm, financial worries and many more. But when she gets to Mary of Magdala, It’s only “Glory! Glory! Glory, Hallelujah! I will be the Glory in your midst!”

And as I had a moment of silence in my car today, I thought back to 2021 as I listened to the song again. Every month I cried. Not tears of joy, but tears of sadness and hardship. Tears of worry and overwhelming stress. Trying to understand what God was doing. But then today God spoke. “Yes, but last month you cried tears of gladness and awe at My Glory and Goodness.” They were no longer tears of desperation, but of an overwhelming, underserving love. Tears at recognition that only God could do what He did. Only Him.

January of 2021 started off with tears of sorrow and loss. However, January of 2022 started off with tears of overwhelming awe at His goodness. This is the year to revel in the revealing of His glory!

I find myself at the end of myself. Only then to remind myself that this where God wants us. Only once we reach the end of ourselves do we move out of the way for Him to work. This is something I have known for such a long time and yet I still find myself unable to move out of the way. Desperate to cling to whatever “control” I have.

Month after month, I have felt blind sided and been hit with something. Month after month, I feel more and more as though I’m falling. With my husband deployed, no home, no certainty of income and 3 kids to tend to, I have absolutely zero control. Every time I start to plan and move forward, God hits me with something else as to “it’s not this.” But have I learned? No. Because month after month I continue to try to make plans.

I laid in bed last night after having a crying pity party for myself with the Lord and could not get the words of Ruth out of my head. “Where you go I will go, and where you stay I will stay.” (Ruth 1:16) I couldn’t get those words out of my head. It was as if they were on repeat. Then God reminded me that I had recently prayed about how to operate in the gift of ‘faith’. “This is how you operate in it,” is what I heard. Where He goes, I will go. Where He stays, I will stay. His people will be my people and He is God, my God. Where He died for me, I will be buried with Him. May the Lord deal with me, be it ever so severely, if even death separates me from Him.

Ruth followed Naomi. No husband and no home. No income and no source of food. She faithfully went to a new land and she faithfully did what Naomi instructed her to do without question. She gleaned in the fields and laid down on the threshing floor. She did so with total faith that God would provide. And He did. God took care of every single need and I imagine desire that Ruth had. Marrying Boaz, owning the field that she gleaned, having children and even being in the lineage of Christ. Her faith took her there.

As I meditate on what God is doing currently in my life, I must ask myself, do I have faith like Ruth? With so many uncertainties, will I cling to Him as Ruth clung to Naomi or will I turn back like Orpah? I pray her words over and over again, where He goes I will go and where He stays I will stay. I do not know what tomorrow will look like. I do not know when my husband will be home. I do not know where we will be living in a couple months. I do not know what our income will be in a few months. I genuinely do not know anything.

My prayer is to be like Ruth. To cling to Him and to follow Him. Where He goes I will go and where He stays I will stay. His people will be my people and He is God, my God. He died for me and so I will be buried with Him. May He deal with me, be it ever so severely, if anything separates me from Him. If He tells me to glean, I pray that I will have the faith to glean. If He tells me to lay down on the threshing floor, I pray that I will have the faith to do so. I know that He works all things good for those who love Him (Romans 8:28).

“But Ruth replied, ‘Don’t urge me to leave you or to turn back from you. Where you go I will go, and where you stay I will stay. Your people will be my people and your God my God. Where you die I will die, and there I will be buried. May the Lord deal with me, be it ever so severely, if even death separates you and me.”

Ruth 1:16-17

“And we know that in all things God works for the good for those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose.”

Romans 8:28

Dancing in the darkness. It’s a phrase that my mom and I have been using the last several weeks. It started last month when the electricity went out. The daytime was fine, but when night came and the electricity had still not come back on, we worked to gather every candle we could to light up the house as much as possible. Taking turns to stand in front of the fireplace to warm up, my daughters took turns to dance with their Papa. We loved that though we were freezing in a dark house, we could still find joy enough to dance. Dancing in the darkness.

It was even more so because a short 10 months ago, doctors had told us that my dad would most likely not be here to experience that moment. With the question of life and death looming over our family, it’s naturally hard to find moments of joy. You don’t want to dance, you don’t want to sing, you sometimes don’t even want to laugh. You’re scared and it’s hard to put that fear behind you.

Yet God requires praise. Whether you praise Him through worship, through dance, through prayer…we must praise Him. We praise through the fear. That is what He taught me when my youngest daughter needed major surgery on a condition that was fatal. Despite my fear, He required me to simply praise Him through my fear. Despite my dad’s diagnosis, as a family we praised God through the fear and fight for his life. We learned how to “dance in the darkness” as that is not something that comes naturally when you’re fearful.

And so last week, when my dad went back for his 6-month MRI scan, the darkness was gone. The doctor himself said he couldn’t medically say that the tumor was gone, but he could not find traces of it. It is a miracle that science cannot explain! All that remained was scar tissue. And how does scar tissue look on an MRI scan? It’s white. As I looked at the image of his scans all I could hear was God saying that the light has overtaken the darkness. How beautiful that we must simply praise Him in the dark moments until the light overtakes it? What a beautiful picture of our loving King!

I don’t know why hard things happen. I don’t know why there is disease and death. I don’t know why God heals some and takes others. All I know is that we were not meant to know these things. These are all a result of the fall in the garden. This was not God’s original plan. But what I do know is that when the world tells us to curse God and die just as Job’s wife did (Job 2:9), we say “No. I will praise Him and live!”

Despite the paralyzing fear of what lies ahead, we must find the strength to stand up and dance in the darkness. For the Light has come to overtake the darkness and He is victorious!

“Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.”

Joshua 1:9

“I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.”

John 16:33

You know that popular saying, “When God closes a door, sometimes He opens a window”? I was laying in bed the other night asking God what He’s doing in my life. What is the purpose in all these hard and difficult things? And when that quote popped in my head, I thought, yeah right! Sometimes He closes the door so we just have to stand in the room we’re in and wait.

What I realized was that I was in the never fun “waiting” period. He revealed to me that He has in fact closed the door on a great many things in my life. My husband deployed, my dog gone and now we’re technically homeless. I laid in bed trying to understand why? Thinking on Isaiah 43:18-19, “Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland.” This was a verse that God gave to me 3 years ago when I moved back to Texas after my “wilderness” journey in Louisiana.

I had thought that after that journey I would get a small break from life’s trials. Why I thought that, I have no idea! Instead, my family has taken hit after hit. And when I say that, I mean quite literally there has been something every single month for the past 12 months. And now I find myself sitting in a room with the door almost slammed shut in my face. I was about to walk through when God said nope! There is no choice, but to sit back down and ask why and how much longer? He tells me to just wait. He’ll open the door again when He’s ready.

Ugh! That’s the answer that most all believers can’t stand; wait. How long do I have to wait? What’s next? What do you have for me? Why do I have to wait? Why do things happen to me when I am waiting? Is there another door I should go through instead? Why did you close that door in the first place? Do you have purpose in this? The list of questions could seemingly go on forever.

There are no other doors for Him to open right now. There are no windows either. I stand in a dark room with only one way in or out and He has closed it for now. I can not even find my way back to the door if I wanted to because there is no light. I don’t know if I need to go forward or backward, to the right or to the left. I am at a complete standstill and can only ask questions to the One who knows.

Waiting is never fun, but to wait in the dark feels even worse. I find myself asking every day what His plan is. Every day asking why these things are happening. Yet I am comforted in the fact that He is listening and speaking. It may not be the answer that I want, but He’s speaking. “Wait for Me.” “I have purpose in this for you.” “Remember that I am good.” “I am doing something new.” “I am your provider.” “I told you that I would be your husband while he is gone.” “Your children belonged to Me first so I will take care of them.” “I am your shelter.”

It may not be words telling me which direction to go in, but He is speaking. And soon, that door will fling open and I will finally get to know what new thing He is doing!

You know those cartoon scenes where they have a bunch of big items somehow balancing on something so small, but then as if in slow motion a feather begins to float down, lands on top and everything comes crashing down? Yeah? That’s me right now. Not the feather or the items trying to balance on top. I’m on the bottom and the best way I know how to describe it is that I’ve had many heavy rocks placed on my shoulders and a feather recently sent everything crashing down.

Please let me explain. This all started back in March when my body turned on me and I wasn’t able to eat most food without being in pain. That was stone number one. Next, we got word that my parents cabin had flooded. Stone number two. In the mean time, Covid was happening and many businesses were struggling and I was furloughed. Stone number three. While my parents were away dealing with their cabin, my mom noticed some bizarre behavior for my dad. Turned out my dad had a brain tumor and needed surgery immediately. That was boulder number four. As he recovered, we were trying to decide what to do with his company. The stress of this felt like stone number five.

Not too long after, my dad ended up needing a second brain surgery that we were told there was a 50% chance he would survive. This was the second boulder, but the sixth thing that began to weigh me down. Two days after his surgery, my moms dog knocked her down and she severely broke her wrist. Stone number seven. Pretty soon after that virtual school started. Stone number eight. That same day, my husband was called in for hurricane duty. Stone number nine. Also that same day, my dog, whether intentional or not, bit my daughter on the face. Stone number ten. While dealing with all this, my moms health began to decline. She ended up in the ER which led us quickly to a surgery for her to determine if she too had cancer. Praise the Lord she does not, but that was stone number eleven.

While trying to get through all of these things, my husband and I decided that homeschool would be a better option. Stone number twelve. While preparing for that, it was also determined that I would head back to work part time. Stone number thirteen. Then the long awaited deployment finally arrived. Stone number fourteen. When my husband left, he hit a deer that night in his truck. Stone fifteen. And all the while still dealing with my own health issues. I think it goes without saying that the last 8 months have been a very hard time for our family.

I write all that to say that this all kind of came to a head just a couple days ago. As I said in my analogy, I had all the stones that I had been carrying around, but a small thing happened and sent me crashing to the floor. And I don’t mean metaphorically. My legs quite literally would no longer hold me up. I sat on the floor of my shower and wept as I hoped that my children would not hear me. I cried and then I cried out to God. I told Him how tired I am. In fact, I believe my exact words were, “I’m so freaking tired!” The weight of all this had finally become too much.

Now, when I say the weight of it, I don’t mean the weight of trying to fix it all. I know who my God is and I know that He will take care of it. My faith in Him has not wavered. No, what I was doing was trying to be strong for everyone. Strong for my parents, strong for my husband, strong for my children, strong to friends, strong at the company. My mom has always used the saying, “One day at a time”. I had been taking one day at a time, but the weight became so much that I couldn’t figure out how to take one day at a time when I wasn’t sure I could even take the next step.

Two days after I cried out, I felt God answer. I have listened to this one song hundreds of times, but this day as I listened to the words, the tears once again began to flow. “You don’t have to do a thing, simply be with me.” With those lyrics, I felt the presence and the peace of God flow over me. Immediately this scripture came to mind, “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.  Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.  For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” (Matthew 11:28-30)

I imagined myself lying in a field, leaning up against a tree with God sitting next to me. Over off to His side, my rocks stacked up. He told me to rest and that I don’t have to do a thing. I don’t need to be strong anymore. He is strong. He will be my strength. He will be my moms strength. He will be my dads strength. He will be my husbands strength as well as my children’s. And what is my strength compared to His? His supernatural peace overwhelmed me once again.

I don’t have to do anything, but to simply be with Him. He says “Come to me.” And isn’t that all He ever wants? Whatever burden you’re carrying, go to Him and lay it down. For His yoke is easy and His burden is light!

In my last blog, I mentioned all the things that my family has been going through some hard times. Part of that includes a brain tumor and cancer treatment for my dad. Doctors had given him a time frame and sent him home to “get things in order” as he prepared to start treatment. Having already walked through all the initial feelings that those words entail with my youngest child, I found myself going back to all of God’s previous promises. Words, scriptures and promises that God gave me to help me process when my daughter was given an open-ended time frame. But those were promises for a different time, a different walk and a different miracle.

As I laid in bed last week, praying and thanking God for a victory I know we already have, He gave me a new vision with a new hope. I do whole heartedly believe that my dad is already healed. I happily proclaim that publicly. You may think that I am crazy or foolish to believe that, but I stand in faith believing that He is still the God of miracles and that it is already finished. Unfortunately, that doesn’t always take the fear or worry along with it. And as I prayed God comforted me in a new way with a new vision.

Moses leading the Israelites through the Red Sea. Now typically when we think of this story in the Bible, we think of Moses holding the staff in front of the waters while it parts with two massive walls of water. We think of the Egyptians closing in behind them, eager to destroy them. But how often do we think of the Israelites themselves? God asked me in the quiet stillness of my room that night, do you not think they were afraid walking through the sea? I thought how it would feel to walk on a muddy sea floor with massive walls of water towering above me with nothing holding it back. How I would probably be distracted from the awe and wonder of it by the fear that those walls would come crashing down and wash me away.

It’s okay to be intimidated or fearful. But we must keep walking. The Israelites kept putting one foot in front of the other until they reached the other side of the miracle. Their feet were once again put on dry land where they could turn to look back with wide eyes in wonder at what God had just done for them. But it wasn’t over yet. You see, the Egyptians were still following. They charged into the Red Sea, eager to use God’s miracle for their own evil desires. But that miracle was not meant for them. Death would not touch His people.

I cling to the promise of this revelation. It is okay to walk in fear, but we must keep walking. It is a choice every day to put one foot in front of the other and with each step a new assurance that God is keeping the water at bay. Every step bringing more hope and conviction for the next. Our faith increasing knowing that we are walking through a miracle. And once we reach the other side, we will turn back with our feet on dry land and watch Him wash away the enemy that was chasing us.

No matter what version of the Red Sea you are walking through, remember that it is okay to be worried but also that you must keep walking. Know that you are amid a miracle and that God will keep the water from crashing down on you. But you must keep walking! I walk in faith knowing that when my family reaches the other side of this Red Sea moment, that we will turn to see Him wash death away! That victory is on the other side of this miracle, but we must keep walking to get there. This is a faith walk.

Life sucks. Let’s just be really honest here. It sucks. And I don’t mean in the sense of the world is exploding in 2020. I mean on a very personal and very real level, it sucks. We found out my husband is deploying, I’ve developed issues with food and am not really able to eat, I was furloughed from my job, my parents cabin flooded with water, my dad had emergency brain surgery that is now being followed up my chemo and radiation. And all this was in a matter of a couple months. So yes, life sucks.

But God has been telling me to look for the beautiful moments in-between all the heart break and frustration and sickness. Beautiful moments like Shannon getting the message about my dad and within minutes she’s on her way to my house. Beautiful moments like Bethany saying she’ll hop on a plane the next day to be here. Beautiful moments like Katie who is going through her own trial and heart break texting me to say she’s praying for me and my family. Moments like Kate asking if she can bring a meal over. Moments like Hannah who reaches out to all of my BSF ladies to schedule meals for my children while my husband was gone. Moments like  Kendall who shares what God showed her while praying for my dad and it blesses him. Moments like Sarah who sends me a song and a word that encourages me.  Moments like Ginger who orders flowers to be sent to my mom for her birthday. Moments like Jen telling me she was minutes away from my house to take my kids for me to have a break. Moments like Holly offering to go to the store and drop things off at my house if I need them. Moments like Jen, Lauren and Holly taking me out and letting me cry in the middle of the restaurant and making me feel like it’s perfectly okay and normal.

Moments like my 8 year old son who stepped up as the man of the house when my husband was gone and took care of his mom in a way that was far beyond his years. Moments like my husband coming in to pray over me and then to pray over our children. Moments like when my parents got on a call with my brother and I to give us the news and rather than break down, we prayed together as a family. Moments like the countless men and women who have gathered around my parents to pray over and for them. There are so many other incredible and beautiful moments that I could list, but this post would go on forever if I did.

My mom has been saying the word “perspective” over and over again this year and when I think about what God is doing right now, I hear that word too. It is about my perspective. If I focused solely on the things that are crumbling around me, I would certainly crumble too. But if I change my perspective on the things around me and focus on the beautiful things, they far out number the bad! It’s almost not even a fair comparison. The first paragraph of this blog is far shorter than the second and third and I didn’t even list everything out.

I know that each and every one of us has our own trials in the midst of this trying year, but I encourage and challenge each and every single one of us to change our perspectives. Don’t look at the things that are negative. Look for the beauty, because I assure you that it is there! I have hope and joy for tomorrow, because I know that there will be at least one small moment where He will show me that He is still with me. So while yes, life sucks, it’s beyond beautiful too!

Psalm 34:8

“Taste and see that the Lord is good; blessed is the one who takes refuge in Him.” 

The other night my 4 year old came running into my room crying. Normally I’d tell her she’s fine and send her back to bed, but she was almost hysterical. When I finally got her to calm down enough to tell me what was wrong, she looked up at me with her tear filled eyes and said, “Ruby said when I’m a big kid, I won’t need you anymore. Is that true? I don’t want to be a big kid!” Oh my heart!

When I finally got her to calm down, I explained to her that when she is a big kid she will be able to do a lot on her own, but I will always be there to help her. I told her that mommy is a big person, but her Honey still helps mommy. When she connected this in her own way she looked up at me and smiled saying, “Ruby was wrong!” She gave me the biggest hug before going back to bed. These are the types of moments that we as parents live for.

As I laid in bed later that night, I couldn’t help but smile as I thought on her devastation at the idea of her not needing mommy. So much so that she says she doesn’t want to grow up. While thinking on it, God spoke saying it’s the same with us and Him. As infants in our faith, we rely on Him and others so much. But the day will come when we grow up, become “big kids” and are ready for solid food, just as 1 Corinthians 3:1-2 states.

I’m in a group prayer message with incredible mighty women of God. I posted a prayer request for myself as I’ve had health issues recently. One of the women responded with a word from the Lord. She said she had the word, but not the understanding. As I sat and read and then re-read her word over and over again, I had hoped that someone else would provide the translation for me, but it never came. I prayed then and knew that it was time for me to find understanding on my own. To seek Him separately and to ask Him for the understanding, not wait for others to give it to me.

You see, it is time for me to be a “big kid”. I can cry and protest it all I want, but growing up is inevitable. At some point, I must learn how to be independent. But just as I assured my daughter that I will always be there to help her, God assures us. Independence doesn’t mean we are left alone. He promises to never leave us in Deuteronomy 31:6. So it is time to put the bottle down and move on to solid food. It’s time to grow up and be a big kid!

Deuteronomy 31:6

“Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the Lord your God goes with you; He will never leave you nor forsake you.”

1 Corinthians 3:1-2

“Brothers and sisters, I could not address you as people who live by the Spirit but as people who are still worldly-mere infants in Christ. I gave you milk, not solid food, for you were not yet ready for it. Indeed, you are still not ready.”