I've been reading Ann Voskamp's blog for a while. Her beautiful writing compels me to. And after reading her post today, I couldn't stop thinking about the question her husband posed back to her in response to some of her questions: "So. Are we doing anything at all in our lives that requires real faith in God?"
Does that wash over you the way it did me? Did you look at your day to see if there was anything in it that required faith?
I did, and here's the mental list I initially thought of:
Going to work.
Taking care of Annie.
Having a relaxing evening at home.
Nothing out of my comfort zone, so not much faith required to get through my day. But as I pondered this, something not so obvious came to light. I had to take another look at that list and the unspoken part about it.
Going to work.
Taking care of Annie.
Having a relaxing evening at home (by myself).
Similar to Ann's son's wait for the egg to hatch, I wait. I wait on the Lord to see if He will choose to fulfill my desire to be married. And though that may seem like something I should fix on my own, I choose not to. I choose instead to wait for His provision, if that's His will for me. He made me, He sees me, and He knows me, and I believe He knows what's best for me. That's why I wait.
It's not always easy. It's not always fun. And it's not always obvious.
Kind of like faith.
Showing posts with label trust. Show all posts
Showing posts with label trust. Show all posts
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Monday, January 12, 2009
One-Word Resolution
We're almost halfway through the first month of the year, and I'm just now nailing down my New Year's resolution. It's not that it wasn't on my mind on January 1; it was. It's that it takes longer to settle on only one.
In the past, I've set resolutions in various areas of my life: physical, spiritual, emotional, financial, etc. The volume of resolutions overwhelmed me. I couldn't keep all the plates spinning and felt like a failure at the end of each year. I knew I needed to change the method to my madness, so I came up with a new plan that I instituted last year.
Towards the end of 2007, my writers' group wrote a book of Advent devotionals. The first one I wrote under the theme of "prepare" dealt with how Mary spent Advent. After finding out she was pregnant with the Christ child, she went to visit her cousin Elizabeth to celebrate what God was doing in their lives and spent three months with her. This idea of Mary focusing on relationships--with her family and with her God--during such a pivotal point in her life spoke to me. For years, my to-do list had controlled how I spent my time, luring me to choose to accomplish tasks over investing time with friends and family. I wanted that to stop, and so I chose a one-word resolution for 2008: relationships.
I can't say that I mastered relationships last year. My resolve was tested while I was teaching, and I often didn't do the best job of balancing relationships with that added job. But I can say that by making that one word my focus, I spent a lot more time thinking about relationships than I ever had and chose them more often than tasks.
As I began 2009, I wanted to choose another one-word focus. But choosing just one word out of all the things I want to improve on or add to my life is difficult. I want to show more love, to reflect more joy, to experience more peace. But ultimately, none of these is possible if I'm constantly doing battle with fear. Not just the fear of flying, but fears of illness and loneliness and even typing this out here. And now that I have, I know I will be tested. It's inevitable; after all, I've been being tested for a long time and succumbed. But now I want to conquer them. And that can only come through trust.
So "trust" it is for 2009. I'm buckling my seat belt for this one because you can't be too careful around a loaded word like that.
In the past, I've set resolutions in various areas of my life: physical, spiritual, emotional, financial, etc. The volume of resolutions overwhelmed me. I couldn't keep all the plates spinning and felt like a failure at the end of each year. I knew I needed to change the method to my madness, so I came up with a new plan that I instituted last year.
Towards the end of 2007, my writers' group wrote a book of Advent devotionals. The first one I wrote under the theme of "prepare" dealt with how Mary spent Advent. After finding out she was pregnant with the Christ child, she went to visit her cousin Elizabeth to celebrate what God was doing in their lives and spent three months with her. This idea of Mary focusing on relationships--with her family and with her God--during such a pivotal point in her life spoke to me. For years, my to-do list had controlled how I spent my time, luring me to choose to accomplish tasks over investing time with friends and family. I wanted that to stop, and so I chose a one-word resolution for 2008: relationships.
I can't say that I mastered relationships last year. My resolve was tested while I was teaching, and I often didn't do the best job of balancing relationships with that added job. But I can say that by making that one word my focus, I spent a lot more time thinking about relationships than I ever had and chose them more often than tasks.
As I began 2009, I wanted to choose another one-word focus. But choosing just one word out of all the things I want to improve on or add to my life is difficult. I want to show more love, to reflect more joy, to experience more peace. But ultimately, none of these is possible if I'm constantly doing battle with fear. Not just the fear of flying, but fears of illness and loneliness and even typing this out here. And now that I have, I know I will be tested. It's inevitable; after all, I've been being tested for a long time and succumbed. But now I want to conquer them. And that can only come through trust.
So "trust" it is for 2009. I'm buckling my seat belt for this one because you can't be too careful around a loaded word like that.
Friday, June 27, 2008
Childhood Dream Come True
For as long as I can remember, I wanted to be a teacher. Growing up, I subjected my sister, along with every neighborhood child I could round up, to endless hours in the "classroom."
The initial classroom was the metal storage shed towards the back of our property. It was blazing hot in summer, had the potential to house bees and other critters, and thus only allowed for brief teaching sessions.
Next up was a huge spool that must have held utility cable at one point. I have no idea where it came from, but a doorway was cut out, it was painted inside and out, and it became the place where I taught school, along with occasional classes taught by my friend Misti.
After we outgrew the spool and it found a home elsewhere (a/k/a the dump), smaller, more formal classes were taught on our enclosed back porch. It was complete with a real chalkboard, an official pen-like chalk holder, and two real student desks. Unfortunately, we weren't often allowed to run the air conditioner out on the back porch, and so school days couldn't last long there either.
I guess never having had an ideal classroom kept the dream alive. At least long enough to mark down on my freshman high school English teacher's form that I wanted to be a math professor when I graduated.
And then real world numbers started speaking. At first softly whispering how one can't live on the salary that a teacher, or even a professor, makes. And then shouting louder. Loud enough to pursue other career fields.
But God has a funny way of often straightening out my path when I haven't allowed Him to use me for the purpose He wired me for. And this is the week He chose to surprise me with a path correction.
On Monday, out of nowhere, a contract employee who works full-time for an "institution of higher learning" asked me if I would be interested in teaching as an adjunct faculty member one afternoon a week in the fall. Surprisingly, I heard myself reply that I would be interested. He gave me some of the details and then asked me to set up a time to meet with the academic dean. I did that today and will begin teaching August 19. I will not be teaching math, but more along the lines of writing and speaking, which is even better since I haven't officially "done" any higher level math in years.
Though I'm really excited, I don't feel the least bit confident in this new endeavor. I haven't taught grown-ups before, and my days of teaching Sunday school to four year olds showed me that I'm not exactly one to hold people's attention very long. I'm trusting that God will equip me for this task if I continue to lean on Him and seek insight and wisdom on how to creatively teach this class. My goal is to be more interesting than Ben Stein in Ferris Bueller's Day Off. By God's grace, hopefully I will realize that goal and come out on the other side of this twelve-week adventure with some good experience and some new insights about myself as I learn through the teaching process.
The initial classroom was the metal storage shed towards the back of our property. It was blazing hot in summer, had the potential to house bees and other critters, and thus only allowed for brief teaching sessions.
Next up was a huge spool that must have held utility cable at one point. I have no idea where it came from, but a doorway was cut out, it was painted inside and out, and it became the place where I taught school, along with occasional classes taught by my friend Misti.
After we outgrew the spool and it found a home elsewhere (a/k/a the dump), smaller, more formal classes were taught on our enclosed back porch. It was complete with a real chalkboard, an official pen-like chalk holder, and two real student desks. Unfortunately, we weren't often allowed to run the air conditioner out on the back porch, and so school days couldn't last long there either.
I guess never having had an ideal classroom kept the dream alive. At least long enough to mark down on my freshman high school English teacher's form that I wanted to be a math professor when I graduated.
And then real world numbers started speaking. At first softly whispering how one can't live on the salary that a teacher, or even a professor, makes. And then shouting louder. Loud enough to pursue other career fields.
But God has a funny way of often straightening out my path when I haven't allowed Him to use me for the purpose He wired me for. And this is the week He chose to surprise me with a path correction.
On Monday, out of nowhere, a contract employee who works full-time for an "institution of higher learning" asked me if I would be interested in teaching as an adjunct faculty member one afternoon a week in the fall. Surprisingly, I heard myself reply that I would be interested. He gave me some of the details and then asked me to set up a time to meet with the academic dean. I did that today and will begin teaching August 19. I will not be teaching math, but more along the lines of writing and speaking, which is even better since I haven't officially "done" any higher level math in years.
Though I'm really excited, I don't feel the least bit confident in this new endeavor. I haven't taught grown-ups before, and my days of teaching Sunday school to four year olds showed me that I'm not exactly one to hold people's attention very long. I'm trusting that God will equip me for this task if I continue to lean on Him and seek insight and wisdom on how to creatively teach this class. My goal is to be more interesting than Ben Stein in Ferris Bueller's Day Off. By God's grace, hopefully I will realize that goal and come out on the other side of this twelve-week adventure with some good experience and some new insights about myself as I learn through the teaching process.
Sunday, April 6, 2008
Please Fence Me In!
Spring in Texas wreaks havoc on wooden fences, especially ones that are anchored with wooden posts that tend to rot underground. And because the rotting that is taking place is hidden underneath the dirt, the fence doesn't give much warning that it is about to take a tumble.
In my fence's case, it started waving like a flag blowing in the wind about a week ago. It tried to fall down last weekend, but a tree limb caught it. My neighbor pounded on it a few times, mending it for all of four days. By Friday, it was literally hanging on by a thread.
Enter David, the Excellent Fence Builder as touted by his wife, and two days of beautiful spring weather. And now, after saying goodbye to my tax refund, I have this beautiful new fence anchored with metal posts.
Fences are expensive; it's just in their nature. They are labor intensive and take a truckload of materials. But in the end, they are priceless.
When the old fence was removed, an ugly sight was waiting on the other side of the boundary line. Apparently, not everyone shares the same views on what constitutes trash or where it should be disposed of. If I had to look at that scene every day, I would go crazy. The new fence saves me from that awful fate.
The fence allows me to let Annie into the backyard by herself. I don't have to grab a leash and go outside with her, which is very time consuming.
The fence also provides me with a sense of security. But I realized last night, when only the metal posts were surrounding my house, that I can't rely on a fence to protect me. In the end, the fence is merely a barrier, not my protector.
I desire to be hemmed in, protected on all sides. And only One can do that.
"You hem me in---behind and before." (Psalm 139:5)
In my fence's case, it started waving like a flag blowing in the wind about a week ago. It tried to fall down last weekend, but a tree limb caught it. My neighbor pounded on it a few times, mending it for all of four days. By Friday, it was literally hanging on by a thread.
Enter David, the Excellent Fence Builder as touted by his wife, and two days of beautiful spring weather. And now, after saying goodbye to my tax refund, I have this beautiful new fence anchored with metal posts.
Fences are expensive; it's just in their nature. They are labor intensive and take a truckload of materials. But in the end, they are priceless.
When the old fence was removed, an ugly sight was waiting on the other side of the boundary line. Apparently, not everyone shares the same views on what constitutes trash or where it should be disposed of. If I had to look at that scene every day, I would go crazy. The new fence saves me from that awful fate.
The fence allows me to let Annie into the backyard by herself. I don't have to grab a leash and go outside with her, which is very time consuming.
The fence also provides me with a sense of security. But I realized last night, when only the metal posts were surrounding my house, that I can't rely on a fence to protect me. In the end, the fence is merely a barrier, not my protector.
I desire to be hemmed in, protected on all sides. And only One can do that.
"You hem me in---behind and before." (Psalm 139:5)
Friday, April 4, 2008
Misleading Feelings
This week, the days haven't felt like themselves. My community group didn't meet this week, so Wednesday didn't feel like Wednesday. Before I joined this group, I attended a Bible study on Wednesdays at lunch. So Wednesdays just don't feel quite right unless I'm with a community of believers studying the Word. But just because we didn't meet didn't make it less of a Wednesday. It was just my feelings playing tricks on me.
Earlier this week, my mom left for a twelve-day trip to the Holy Land. I'm excited that she desired to go there and had the opportunity to go with a wonderful group. But it's a bit unnerving that she's so far away and in an area that is known for instability. And because of their traveling itinerary and the time difference, I can't pick up the phone and check in with her to see how she's doing. I have to trust God with her and put aside my fearful feelings about her security because there's nothing I can do to change the situation.
Today, a friend sent me a link to a blog that has redefined what it means to write authentically with unabashed feeling. One of the members of the Christian group Selah is named Todd Smith, and his wife Angie started a blog about her journey of carrying an infant daughter, named Audrey Caroline, who will not survive because her body does not have all the organs necessary to live outside the womb. She will be born on Monday, April 7 at 4 p.m. EST. Every word of their unthinkable journey demonstrates what it looks like to run to Christ in unbearable times and to give Him the glory for letting them know and love Audrey. In spite of their feelings, they are believing God and clinging to His promises.
Reflecting on these examples has reminded me how often my feelings cause me problems. They tell me things that do not line up with the Truth of God's Word. They make me sense things that aren't real. They make me fearful of things I can't control. And if I let them run amuck, I would be paralyzed with fear.
I have experienced overwhelming anxiety numerous times in my life. It is grueling. It fed on itself and caused lots of health issues. None of which responded to medication. Probably because the source wasn't medical; it was emotional.
I grew up without my father at home, and I constantly dreamt of burglars (even Amish burglars, which is quite an oxymoron). I felt unprotected. And I still do at times.
I look for all sorts of holes in my life--those places where I feel vulnerable--and pray for God to cover them. But I get fearful that I've left out something. And that I'm unprotected in some area of my life.
All of this boils down to whether I trust God or not. And that's not a feeling. It's a decision that I have to make. Sometimes multiple times in a single day. To believe Him, not my feelings. Because as far as I can tell, He's got a much better track record than my feelings do.
Father, I confess that my feelings often get in the way of trusting You. Thank You for loving me, pursuing me, and protecting me. Be with Angie and Todd and others who are struggling right now. May the Truth shatter their fears.
Earlier this week, my mom left for a twelve-day trip to the Holy Land. I'm excited that she desired to go there and had the opportunity to go with a wonderful group. But it's a bit unnerving that she's so far away and in an area that is known for instability. And because of their traveling itinerary and the time difference, I can't pick up the phone and check in with her to see how she's doing. I have to trust God with her and put aside my fearful feelings about her security because there's nothing I can do to change the situation.
Today, a friend sent me a link to a blog that has redefined what it means to write authentically with unabashed feeling. One of the members of the Christian group Selah is named Todd Smith, and his wife Angie started a blog about her journey of carrying an infant daughter, named Audrey Caroline, who will not survive because her body does not have all the organs necessary to live outside the womb. She will be born on Monday, April 7 at 4 p.m. EST. Every word of their unthinkable journey demonstrates what it looks like to run to Christ in unbearable times and to give Him the glory for letting them know and love Audrey. In spite of their feelings, they are believing God and clinging to His promises.
Reflecting on these examples has reminded me how often my feelings cause me problems. They tell me things that do not line up with the Truth of God's Word. They make me sense things that aren't real. They make me fearful of things I can't control. And if I let them run amuck, I would be paralyzed with fear.
I have experienced overwhelming anxiety numerous times in my life. It is grueling. It fed on itself and caused lots of health issues. None of which responded to medication. Probably because the source wasn't medical; it was emotional.
I grew up without my father at home, and I constantly dreamt of burglars (even Amish burglars, which is quite an oxymoron). I felt unprotected. And I still do at times.
I look for all sorts of holes in my life--those places where I feel vulnerable--and pray for God to cover them. But I get fearful that I've left out something. And that I'm unprotected in some area of my life.
All of this boils down to whether I trust God or not. And that's not a feeling. It's a decision that I have to make. Sometimes multiple times in a single day. To believe Him, not my feelings. Because as far as I can tell, He's got a much better track record than my feelings do.
Father, I confess that my feelings often get in the way of trusting You. Thank You for loving me, pursuing me, and protecting me. Be with Angie and Todd and others who are struggling right now. May the Truth shatter their fears.
Sunday, February 10, 2008
Safety First
I must confess a new obsession: I am addicted to running searches on the cosmetic safety database. For those of you who haven't heard of it, the website is run by a nonprofit corporation that rates cosmetics from 0 to 10 (with zero being best) according to how safe they are to use. The website allows visitors to run searches to see how safe their hand soap, sunscreen, deodorant, shampoo, body wash, make-up, etc. are. The website's counter keeps track of how many searches it has performed and was showing over 44 million when I last visited, and I attributed a great deal of those searches to me. I possess this insatiable need to know what products are "safe."
When my family and I played the game Imaginiff at Christmas, the card came up asking my family to Imaginiff I had a motto and to choose one of the following to describe what my motto would be: (1) pedal to the metal; (2) stop and smell the roses; (3) take the road less traveled; (4) better safe than sorry; (5) an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth; or (6) love makes the world go round. If I remember correctly, I think the winning answer was #4 better safe than sorry.
Safety. That seems to be a resounding theme in my life. I always want to be safe and protected. From sickness. From crime. From being hurt. From making foolish decisions that will harm me. And so I pray often for my own protection and for my family's protection.
This safety issue is something that has plagued me most of my life. I can remember as a child being very afraid of burglars and thinking that someone was hiding behind every tree in our yard. Maybe that fear was born out of having a father who was sick and lived in a nursing home rather than in our home. I'm not sure. But I do know that all the security systems and security personnel in the world can't keep me totally safe. That's something I have to rely on God for.
And I also have to realize that sometimes God isn't always about being safe. The words of C.S. Lewis in The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe echo in my mind: "Safe?" said Mr. Beaver; "don't you hear what Mrs. Beaver tells you? Who said anything about safe? 'Course he isn't safe. But he's good. He's the King, I tell you." (p.86)
That's often not what I want to hear. Yes, I want the goodness of God, but I also want to be safe. And so I have to wrestle with my will and turn it over to Him. Not an easy task. But one I can dedicate more attention and time to if I'd stop running searches for safe products.
Father God, You know the desires of my heart and what's best for me. Help me to rest in who You are instead of my circumstances.
When my family and I played the game Imaginiff at Christmas, the card came up asking my family to Imaginiff I had a motto and to choose one of the following to describe what my motto would be: (1) pedal to the metal; (2) stop and smell the roses; (3) take the road less traveled; (4) better safe than sorry; (5) an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth; or (6) love makes the world go round. If I remember correctly, I think the winning answer was #4 better safe than sorry.
Safety. That seems to be a resounding theme in my life. I always want to be safe and protected. From sickness. From crime. From being hurt. From making foolish decisions that will harm me. And so I pray often for my own protection and for my family's protection.
This safety issue is something that has plagued me most of my life. I can remember as a child being very afraid of burglars and thinking that someone was hiding behind every tree in our yard. Maybe that fear was born out of having a father who was sick and lived in a nursing home rather than in our home. I'm not sure. But I do know that all the security systems and security personnel in the world can't keep me totally safe. That's something I have to rely on God for.
And I also have to realize that sometimes God isn't always about being safe. The words of C.S. Lewis in The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe echo in my mind: "Safe?" said Mr. Beaver; "don't you hear what Mrs. Beaver tells you? Who said anything about safe? 'Course he isn't safe. But he's good. He's the King, I tell you." (p.86)
That's often not what I want to hear. Yes, I want the goodness of God, but I also want to be safe. And so I have to wrestle with my will and turn it over to Him. Not an easy task. But one I can dedicate more attention and time to if I'd stop running searches for safe products.
Father God, You know the desires of my heart and what's best for me. Help me to rest in who You are instead of my circumstances.
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
Waiting & Trusting/Trusting & Waiting
Today didn't go as planned. I had to go to the doctor to get clarification. Two weeks ago, I had an x-ray done on my back just to make sure that it had healed properly from a car accident a while ago. The x-rays showed that my back was fine, which was good news. But as the doctor read me the report, he mentioned a clip that showed up in my lower left pelvis. He asked if I'd had any medical procedures performed that could account for that clip. I was speechless. The only abdominal surgery I've had was to remove my gall bladder (on the upper right side of my abdomen) four years ago. He said he wasn't concerned about the clip but advised that I should probably have my primary doctor take a look at the x-rays. I couldn't deal with this before vacation, so I decided to wait until I got back to go to the doctor.
So, today I went to see the nurse practitioner. She wanted to order a CT scan. I asked if we could repeat the x-rays first because I was just sure that there must have been a plastic clip in the pocket of the scrubs that they made me wear during the x-ray. She agreed that we could start there and order a CT scan later if necessary. So, I strolled downstairs to the hospital, waited my turn, had the x-rays taken, and returned to work 3.5 hours later.
Right after the x-rays were taken, the tech said that she thought that she saw something that looked like a clip but that she couldn't give me any results. Weird, but that sounded like results to me. Results that I didn't want to hear.
So, during the hour and a half before I got the call from the doctor's office, my mind played out numerous scenarios. Mostly not good. I have a tendency toward that for some reason. And yet I kept hearing, "Do you trust Me?" I kept responding, "Yes, Lord," but my heart wasn't in it.
When the nurse called, she said that I do indeed have some sort of clip and that it must have been used to clamp off something. ???? I couldn't even ask intelligent questions at that time. I felt violated. Why had no one told me that I have this mystery clip floating around my pelvis? How is this normal?
And I heard it again, "Do you trust Me?"
On the drive home, I called a couple of friends of mine who are doctors. They gave me some suggestions on what to ask. One even said that it's probably a clip from the gall bladder surgery that just fell and that it is nothing to worry about. Okay, I'm trying to swallow that.
I realize that in the grand scheme of things this little clip that resides in my lower left pelvis is not a huge deal. And I'm thankful for that. It's just a bit unsettling to have not known about it before now and to have no idea how it really got there.
And yet I continue to hear, "Do you trust Me?"
Unfortunately, my weak-willed answer is "I think so, Lord; I really want to." But my actions show otherwise. And so tonight, I feel a bit like the father who took his son to Jesus and asked Jesus to heal him if he could. Jesus responded, "If I can? Everything is possible for him who believes." And the father replied, "I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief!" (Mark 9:22-24)
I do believe, Lord, that nothing is too big, too little, or too unimportant to take to You. This little clip is merely a speck in Your presence. And yet You care. Help me reflect on Your faithfulness and expand my willingness to trust in only You.
So, today I went to see the nurse practitioner. She wanted to order a CT scan. I asked if we could repeat the x-rays first because I was just sure that there must have been a plastic clip in the pocket of the scrubs that they made me wear during the x-ray. She agreed that we could start there and order a CT scan later if necessary. So, I strolled downstairs to the hospital, waited my turn, had the x-rays taken, and returned to work 3.5 hours later.
Right after the x-rays were taken, the tech said that she thought that she saw something that looked like a clip but that she couldn't give me any results. Weird, but that sounded like results to me. Results that I didn't want to hear.
So, during the hour and a half before I got the call from the doctor's office, my mind played out numerous scenarios. Mostly not good. I have a tendency toward that for some reason. And yet I kept hearing, "Do you trust Me?" I kept responding, "Yes, Lord," but my heart wasn't in it.
When the nurse called, she said that I do indeed have some sort of clip and that it must have been used to clamp off something. ???? I couldn't even ask intelligent questions at that time. I felt violated. Why had no one told me that I have this mystery clip floating around my pelvis? How is this normal?
And I heard it again, "Do you trust Me?"
On the drive home, I called a couple of friends of mine who are doctors. They gave me some suggestions on what to ask. One even said that it's probably a clip from the gall bladder surgery that just fell and that it is nothing to worry about. Okay, I'm trying to swallow that.
I realize that in the grand scheme of things this little clip that resides in my lower left pelvis is not a huge deal. And I'm thankful for that. It's just a bit unsettling to have not known about it before now and to have no idea how it really got there.
And yet I continue to hear, "Do you trust Me?"
Unfortunately, my weak-willed answer is "I think so, Lord; I really want to." But my actions show otherwise. And so tonight, I feel a bit like the father who took his son to Jesus and asked Jesus to heal him if he could. Jesus responded, "If I can? Everything is possible for him who believes." And the father replied, "I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief!" (Mark 9:22-24)
I do believe, Lord, that nothing is too big, too little, or too unimportant to take to You. This little clip is merely a speck in Your presence. And yet You care. Help me reflect on Your faithfulness and expand my willingness to trust in only You.
Monday, June 4, 2007
Enough Doubting
Do you ever doubt?
Usually I doubt the weather. But today, I found myself doubting a recipe. Not just any recipe. An add-one-ingredient-to-this-mix recipe.
Surely hundreds of people have tried this box mix before. Surely if it didn’t work someone would have told the company.
Despite knowing that, I still doubted that 2/3 c. of yogurt would be enough to moisten all of this dry brownie mix.
That got me thinking: Am I am enough Lord? Enough to spread your light in the darkness? Enough to handle mean people? Enough to encourage others? Enough to do the job you've asked of me? Enough to?????
Thank You Lord that You are always Enough. Enough to cover my doubts with Truth, Light, and Love.
Usually I doubt the weather. But today, I found myself doubting a recipe. Not just any recipe. An add-one-ingredient-to-this-mix recipe.
Surely hundreds of people have tried this box mix before. Surely if it didn’t work someone would have told the company.
Despite knowing that, I still doubted that 2/3 c. of yogurt would be enough to moisten all of this dry brownie mix.
That got me thinking: Am I am enough Lord? Enough to spread your light in the darkness? Enough to handle mean people? Enough to encourage others? Enough to do the job you've asked of me? Enough to?????
Thank You Lord that You are always Enough. Enough to cover my doubts with Truth, Light, and Love.
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