I Need You to be Okay Without Me

This post is about my dog. And about so much more than my dog.

It’s also about me, and possibly you, too.

You see, when the pandemic hit, I was one of the lucky ones. Through a series of fortunate arrangements, I have been working remotely for the past two years. My dog loves this deal, and despite the constant teleporting between virtual meetings, I love it too. She lays by my feet all day. We enjoy lunch on the back porch. We go for walks in the evening. We are, as the saying goes, attached at the paw.

Which will be a problem in a few months when I return to the office.

For two years we have rarely been apart. She co-pilots our route to the curbside groceries. She mooches treats from every drive-through establishment in town. She protects me from the brave and friendly delivery people.

And pretty soon she will have to be okay without me.

Except I know – and perhaps you do too – that sometimes there is nothing okay about being apart from those we want to be with.

It’s been three years now since my father passed away. I still catch myself expecting to see him, expecting to hear him, expecting to talk to him. I don’t think that will ever go away. The absence of his presence is nearly as tangible as his actual presence. It’s as though someone took that piece of my life and carved it into a metal ink press. The part that’s missing is the part that makes the picture when it’s stamped.

It’s not gone. It’s just completely inverted. And I don’t like it at all.

If our definition of okay is who we were “before,” then we may never be okay again. Instead, we become okay with not being okay. We become okay with being who we are “after.”

That’s what I’m working on with my dog now. The differently hard. And the differently joyful.

Dog chewing on toy.

We’ve started a robust separation desensitization routine. A dozen times a day I walk out the front door and right back in. Or gather my keys and then set them back down. Every day we practice quiet crate time in the other room.

Little by little the panic is a little less panicked. Little by little she is learning – I hope – that she can be okay without me.

She might even find that although this is new, and it’s not what she asked for, that there will be good things, too. There will be opportunities she wouldn’t have had otherwise – and no, I don’t mean sneaking into the garbage unobserved.

What can any of us say about the road ahead? We can say this: that our eyes have not seen, our ears have not heard, and our hearts have not begun to imagine what God has prepared for those who love him. We have the strength of the Father guiding us through both the lines and the spaces. We can embrace both the joy and the pain. And we can cling to the one presence that we never need to be okay without.

This post was originally written for inspireafire.com.

Thinking Sad. And How Not To.

Sometimes there are sad thoughts I have to think. Life, it turns out, is not always happy.

But sometimes there are sad thoughts I don’t have to think… and I think them anyway. I bet this has happened to you, too: I could be going about my day seemingly fine and the next thing I know I have brought myself nearly to tears from a conversation that happened no place except in my head.

Why on earth would I do this to myself? And more importantly, how do I stop it?

Let me share what I learned recently.

Just the other day I caught myself ready to launch off the cliff of sad thoughts. The fact that I even recognized where my thoughts were headed is a miracle in and of itself. But I stopped just long enough for an SOS prayer: Dear God, I’m headed no place good. What should I think about instead? Tell me what to focus on.

Cliff of sad thoughts.

It has been said that the answer to every problem we face is in the Bible. I have not applied this theory enough to vouch for its complete validity, but I can say in this case the answer was surprisingly black and white. Because in response to my plea, the Bible records Paul’s letter to the Philippians where he explicitly states: think about these things.

It doesn’t get much clearer than that.

Unfortunately, I can never remember exactly how the verse goes, so I stood there for quite some time trying to remember it. It’s like I was handed the answer to my prayer in a package and I needed to unwrap it piece by piece. I know there are things that are true and lovely, something about noble and praiseworthy.

Perhaps it’s good that I can never completely remember this verse, because the longer I spent trying to recall the verse, the more my mind began thinking about the thinking that I should be thinking and less about the thinking that I shouldn’t be thinking.

(It’s okay, read it again.)

In other words, the process of recalling to mind what I should be thinking helped pull me from the wrong path my thoughts were headed down. There is likely a neuro-cognitive explanation for this. I’m no brain scientist, but I know our emotions can run rampant when certain parts of our brain get triggered. When this is starting to happen, the process of trying to recall a verse can help by firing up a different part of our brain – the part involved in language, reasoning, and metacognition. These are the things that let us step back and perceive what is happening to ourselves rather than being swept away in the emotional response. Once certain parts of our brain are activated, we have a greater ability to redirect our thoughts.

I find this fascinating. We know, when we are discussing it rationally over a cup of tea, that we should think about things that are lovely, noble, praiseworthy and all the rest. We may even be able to quote Philippians 4:8 verbatim. But when that verse has fled our consciousness and our thoughts are about to jump off the cliff-of-the-not-so-noble, there is still a path back.

“Think about these things,” Paul wrote. And if you can’t actually think about them, think about thinking about them. Try to call that verse to mind. Try to remember what it is you are supposed to be thinking about. Get new parts of your brain engaged. You might be surprised at the power you have to take your thoughts captive. You are, in fact, able to pull yourself back from the brink and start down a new path, but you do it bit by bit, one thought at a time.

God answered my plea with a verse that worked even when I couldn’t remember it. You might be surprised how the simple act of trying to remember can help you move in a new direction, too.

This post was first written for and shared at inspireafire.com.

It’s Time

The new year is a good time to think about new beginnings, but it certainly isn’t the only time. Into creation God has built cycles, seasons, and even mandates that prompt us to pick ourselves up, dust ourselves off, and start all over again.

And again.

From the beginning, God established a 7-day cycle of work and rest. To the ancient Israelites he dictated seasons of rest for the land and jubilees of freedom for their people (See Leviticus 25). Those moments of rest, peace, and freedom are wonderful. Unfortunately, getting to these breakthroughs is not always easy.

Innate in the human existence is a spirit of struggle and triumph. We are drawn to epics detailing the hero’s journey. But the Christian message is not one of an elite few who succeed, but an open door to all who will persevere.

I picture Moses leading the Israelites muttering past the same rock formation for the 32nd time. “Are we almost there yet? How much further? We are sick of this miserable food! Did you bring us out here to die?”

A new beginning is coming.

Do these words echo challenges that you face? They certainly do for me. “How much longer? Which way am I supposed to go? When will this end?”

A new beginning is coming.

The process is as important as the new beginning itself. All their wanderings in the desert allowed the Israelite’s hearts and minds to be transformed by God. They entered into their promised land when both they and their new land were ready. Only God knew the perfect timing.

Paul and James both admonish us to rejoice in our sufferings. “Because we know that suffering produces perseverance, perseverance, character and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts.” (Romans 5:3-5)

Perhaps this new year has already seen amazing breakthrough for you. Hold onto those lessons as you walk forward.

If you feel like you are walking past the same rock formation for the 32nd time, do not lose hope. God is working even when you do not see or feel the results. A new season is coming if you do not give up.

It is a new year, a new week, a new moment. Pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and start all over again.

This post was first written and shared for inspireafire.com. I hope you enjoyed. Happy New Year, friends!

Making Sense of it All

“It doesn’t have to make sense, it has to make faith.”

I was in a small group discussion where one of the ladies was relaying a conversation she had with a pastor. As someone who likes to make sense of everything, I was struck by this point. Sometimes things would be easier to endure if I could just understand it all!

But sometimes understanding is not the point. Sometimes understanding can even be detrimental to how God wants to use what we’re going through to do a good work – not just out there in the circumstances around us, but inside us.

Bible in Mirror

As we come into the Christmas season, it seems a perfect time to reflect on this idea. Christmas itself may be one of the ultimate occasions that was given to us not to make sense, but to make faith. John 3:16 tells us that God loved the world so much that He gave his only son for us, first in the form of a helpless baby, then as a minister to the people, and finally as a sacrifice on Calvary’s hill.

As far as religions go, it doesn’t make a lot of sense.

But the reason, John 3:16 continues, is so that anyone who believes in Jesus will have eternal life. Not understanding, but faith.

One of my favorite analogies for the logic behind the incarnation is in the story of the Christmas ducks that Paul Harvey relayed. (It’s worth hearing if you’ve never heard it.) It offers a sliver of “why” in a story that on its surface is incomprehensible. Despite these glimpses of understanding, the fullness of God will always escape our comprehension.

Ultimately, it doesn’t matter if we understand perfectly. God came in the flesh to make Himself known to us not so we would have a simple understanding, but so we would have a simple faith.

I think of Mary, of whom the Bible says several times after Jesus’ birth that she treasured all that was happening and pondered it in her heart (Luke 2). Even though there is bewilderment, I read a sense of serenity in these words, perhaps harkening back to her reply to the angel Gabriel – “I am the Lord’s servant, may it be to me as you have said.”

Geese and baby

I have heard these words read many times with the emphasis on Mary’s subservience and willingness to go forward with God’s plan. I also see something beyond simple submission. I see trust the God will take care of her whatever is to come. She is not just any servant. “I am the Lord’s servant,” she said.

No amount of pondering was going to make sense of all the Mary was about to witness. But as God’s plan unfolded just as was foretold, there was the opportunity for faith.

We have the same opportunity to allow God’s Sprit to work within us. God can use whatever we are facing to grow our faith. And our faith, as Peter wrote, is of greater worth than gold.

Our God is not hidden. He made himself known on an unexpected Christmas morning, and He continues to make Himself known to us through the scriptures and through His Spirit. Regardless of whether this particular Christmas is a time of joy or a season of struggle, take a moment to look through your circumstances and see God’s presence in your life.

He has come, and he will continue to come, so that we may have faith to believe in Him.

This post was first shared at inspireafire.com. Merry Christmas!

Crazed. Or Not. Finding Balance in the Midst of Extremes.

Digital display

There is a good kind of stress.

If you’ve always thought of stress as a four letter word in the plural, then this may come as a surprise. But it’s true. It’s even reasonable, once I stopped to consider it.

An environment with absolutely no stress is an environment void of stimulation or purpose. As human beings we need something to engage us. That something, to the scientists among us, is called “eustress” – a beneficial stress in just the right dosage to give a feeling of fulfillment.

Too little and we get bored. Too much and we get overwhelmed.

Balance is the key.

Unfortunately, life seems to try everything it can to send us in any direction except the one that leads to balance.

Take as an example of extremes these past 12-18 months. Not many people have been spared. You may be one who has had far too much to do: front line workers, parents juggling work and at-home schooling, caretakers trying to navigate a system that has been completely upended. Or you may be one who has not had enough to do: quarantined and alone with no visitors and limited chances to venture out. There has not been much middle ground.

I hope and pray along with everyone else that the slow return to a middle ground keeps progressing. And along the way, I am trying to learn what it means to find my own middle ground when the world around me is completely crazed, or completely not.

Either extreme can feel like a prison, and I’ve been in both. I’ve spent time strangling under the tangle of my to-do list and panicked over things left undone. I’ve also battled waves of crushing lethargy that come in the dark nights of an isolating depression. Once the scales start to tip one way or the other, it’s easy to keep spiraling in the same direction. Freedom comes only when I move back against the tide and seek balance. Recognizing where I am is the first step.

One of my favorite Bible verses is 2 Timothy 1:7: For God did not give us a spirit of fear, but of power, and of love, and of self-control. This tells me that when I start to feel trapped, powerless, and afraid, those feelings are not from God. God has given me the self-control and the strength to make any necessary changes. I can do it, even when it doesn’t feel as if I can.

The amplified translation drills down into the meaning of that last word “self-control” even further, to say it includes a calm, well-balanced mind. Do you see that word in there again? Balanced. No matter what is going on around me, the Spirit within me has the capability of maintaining a calm, well-balanced mind. My mind in turn can direct the self-control needed to keep from leaping to extremes. Exercising myself in this way is freedom – freedom to think, be and act how I choose regardless of what swirls around me.

This past year has been a severe example, but much of life will tip us one way or the other. If we aren’t careful, we can feel trapped under the confines of our own days. It’s up to us to discover the freedom God has waiting for us, back in the balance, even in the midst of extremes.

How I Started Recycling: An analogy of our Father’s method for change

I recycle because I have a friend who recycles.

I mean, I have a friend who recycles.  She carries a bag with her when she goes on walks simply so she can pick up trash.  When she comes to visit, she brings me all the recyclables she can’t recycle in her own town, because my town has a broader recycling program.  “Maybe I’ll inspire someone else,” she says.  And by someone, she occasionally means me.

Any activist will tell you that the hardest thing to initiate is a change in someone’s behavior. This was certainly true for me.  I agreed 100% with everything my friend told me.  “Be the change you want to see in the world,” she’d quote.  “Absolutely!”  I’d agree.

But my behavior didn’t change.

Plastic bag in hand.

Now I should clarify.  I would occasionally pick up trash and pack it out of my favorite hiking haunts.  Or I might pick up something blown from a dumpster and return it.  I would recycle when it was convenient, but when it took a little more effort… not so much.

This same friend sent me an article about the impacts of plastics in our oceans.  It made me sad at what we are doing to our planet. It made me feel guilty over my part in it. But it still didn’t drive me to action.

So what was it that actually changed my behavior?  First, my friend’s persistence.  But more importantly, she didn’t drive me to it.  She led me to it.

Too often when we are trying to change someone’s behavior – or even when we are trying to change our own – we try to drive the change like a cowboy driving a herd of cattle.  We crack the whip of reason. We coerce. We plead.  But instead of a stampede toward the corral, the result is usually more like a baulking bull.  Even when we want to change, we find ourselves pushing back rather than embracing a new behavior.

The Bible gives us a different analogy of change.

Jesus didn’t ride herd with a whip.  He simply entered the pen through the gate.  “I am the good Shepherd,” Jesus told his followers. “The one who enters by the gate is the shepherd of the sheep… He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out” (John 10:2-3,14).

Jesus wasn’t driving the change; Jesus was leading the change.  And this is precisely what my friend did to change my recycling habits.  One time when she was visiting, she threw me and her recycling in the car and drove to the recycling center.  She never said: “I’m going to show you how to recycle so that you will start doing it.”  We simply went and recycled together.  And after I had done it once, there was no reason for me not to continue.

Sometimes in life, change is elicited simply because we have someone come alongside us and show us how. We have a Father in heaven who first demonstrated this principle for us, by sending Jesus to not just instruct us from afar, but to walk alongside us. Now we can do the same for others.

I wonder how many of us can say, “I am a Christian because I have a friend who is a Christian.”  And more importantly, how many of us have friends who can say about us, “I am a Christian, because I have a friend who is a Christian.”

A slightly different version of this post was shared in 2012 – can you believe I have been blogging that long? It was revamped to share recently at inspireafire.com. I hope you enjoyed it!

Who Invented Dental Floss

I heard the comment once that conversations never end in ”I don’t know” anymore. Inevitably someone will whip out their cell phone and ask Siri, and the answer magically will appear.

This was certainly the case for me the other night when I was – you guessed it – flossing my teeth. Perhaps you’ve never wondered about the invention of dental floss before, but if you’re like me, you’re wondering now.

I grew up on the cusp of the internet era. I still remember card catalogs and microfiche machines and giant reference books in the stacks. A question like “Who invented dental floss?” was not something that just anyone could know. You would need to do research. Find an expert who specialized in the history of dentistry, read a dental history textbook, or visit a museum of dental history.

Today, any question I can dream up has an answer sitting in my hip pocket.

Well, almost any question. Ask Siri what the meaning of life is, and she’ll give you one of several snarky answers ranging from “42” to “I don’t know, but I think there’s an app for that.”

Depending on your question, an internet search may not be the best way to find your answer.

Perhaps as this new year has its beginning, you are also looking for a fresh start. An internet search can point you to a lot of excellent resources, ranging from organizing your closets to inspirational guidance, but if you’re looking for a deeper new beginning, you need to access a deeper source.

The Bible tells the story of Nicodemus, a scholarly man who, as a member of the Jewish ruling council, would have had every resource of that day at his fingertips. Yet despite all that access, the knowledge equivalent of today’s internet search engines, he apparently still had a question that remained unanswered. He came at night, perhaps afraid of public ridicule or worse. But he came. To ask the deeper Source a question.

Jesus talked to Nicodemus about new birth, a more radical new beginning than Nicodemus could even fathom. But it was a new birth that was available to Nicodemus, and it is available to each one of us still today. God promises that when we seek Him earnestly, He will be found by us. (See John 3:1-21 and Deuteronomy 4:29)

What are you searching for?

We cannot talk to Jesus face to face, but I have found that when I have an earnest question on my heart and ask Him to guide me, then He brings resources across my path that point me to the truth. It could be a piece of scripture that jumps out at me, a sermon crafted just for me, a song lyric, even an internet search result. Wherever they come from, those words resonate around the question in my heart in such a way that I know that regardless of the source, there is a deeper Source responding to me.

The answers we seek are not reserved for the experts, for the elite, or for those who have been granted access. Answers are available to me. And to you. And to everyone who asks.

Whatever new beginning you may be seeking, whatever question you may be asking, hold it in your heart and ask God to guide you to the answer. He has a way of curating what you need more powerfully than any search engine I’ve ever seen. Go ahead and ask.

And while you’re waiting for your answer, you can read about the history of dental floss here. Or here. Or…

There is so much information at your fingertips, my friends. Keep searching.

This post was original written for inspireafire.com. I hope you enjoyed!

Shoveling Rain

The storm started as rain.

Cold and pelting. Then sluicing. Then softer.

The quality of the sound changed, the texture of the rain changed, and I knew it was time for action. By the time I bundled into winter gear and opened the door, giant white flakes were soaking into the wetness. Slush coated every surface in heavy crystals. I put the blade of my shovel to the pavement and shoved a path forward. The sound was a satisfying slop.

Anyone who has ever chipped ice from a driveway knows that those gentle drops can be deceiving. They are soft only until frozen.

As the white swirl intensified, I scraped as much wetness as I could. Beside me there was a loud crack, and a tree branch crashed to the ground. I felt the thud through the soles of my boots. I jumped; my dog barked. The snow was heavy and wet and covering the shimmer of rain-turned-ice. It was not the first, nor the last branch to fall.

I am grateful we had the trees around the house capped a few weeks ago in anticipation of storms like this. “See that tree,” our tree crew leader said, pointing. “The lower branches are dying but the tree is still healthy. All the growth is up top to get the sunlight. That’s nature’s way of pruning. ”

Pruning. I mull this over as I scrape slush amidst the sound of falling branches.

There’s the arborist who trims limbs and sculpts tree crowns so they don’t get too heavy and pull the whole tree over in a storm. There’s also the trimming of dead branches to devote more nutrients to the living, growing ends. Like the vinedresser coaxing more fruit from the vine.

At its simplest, pruning is the process of cutting back in one area to allow for more growth in another. And it happens one way or another. Either by the caretaker. Or by the storm.

Anyone else see an elephant here? Apparently pruning can also make some fun shapes!

I don’t know about you, but I’m not always good at the cutting back part. I take on more, and more, and even more, but I don’t like the pruning part. I spend much more time thinking about what I will do rather than what I will not do. But like the rain turning to ice or the tree cracking beneath its burden, the pruning needs to happen. And it might be better to take care of it early.

As Christians, we can invite Jesus to show us what needs to be scraped away. He is our caretaker, and His Spirit within us will prompt what needs to be pruned. Sometimes it’s an attitude not reflective of the fruits of the spirit. Sometimes it’s a relationship or an activity or a ready-or-not life transition. Sometimes it’s a message to simply wait on Him.

Our caretaker will prune excesses and scrape lifelessness so that our living end can grow toward the Son.

Our job is to follow His lead. Attend to His promptings early, while it is still slush. I’ve learned the hard way that it’s far better to shovel rain.

This post was originally written and shared for inspireafire.com. I hope you enjoyed it!

On the Road to Success

We were on the road to Success.

Literally, I mean. We were driving along route 62 East across Arkansas when we crossed a junction with a township sign pointing to Success. This prompted the conjecture you might expect: How many people do you suppose live in Success? How long does it take to get there, and is Success hard to find?

Before long, we had pulled a U-turn (legally, of course) and were on the road to Success.

Road Sign to Success
Turn here for Success! (Photo by Janet Beagle)

This prompted a great deal of conversation on – you guessed it – success.

“What’s your definition of success?” my friend asked.

“Well, my interview answer is to be in a position where I can constantly learn new things.”

“And your non-interview answer?”

“Probably the same thing,” I admitted.

“I don’t think we can ever really be successful. Success is like this perfect ideal we strive for but never really achieve,” my friend commented.

We talked about work and whether work-in-progress could be deemed successful or whether an event needed to be completed before it could be labelled. We talked about relationships and successful people. We talked about the difference between success and contentment or success and happiness. We concluded that success was not an easy word to define. Apart from being a very small town in Arkansas.

Despite our meandering conversation, it turned out Success was only a few minutes from where we had started. (And to think we almost missed it!) Very few people live in Success – only 180 according to the population sign. It seemed like a nice enough place, but for us, Success was fleeting. We had miles to go before we slept, so we captured a few photos on the edge of town, and then continued on our way. I wonder how often the Successians look out their windows to see crazy tourists snapping pictures of their population sign?

In the weeks since I’ve returned from our detour, I’ve often pondered the term. So often “success” is associated with fame, monetary wealth, prestige, or power. In today’s culture, it seems to be obtained in a winner-take-all rush for the top with little regard to the methods used to get there. Yet the Bible gives us a very different definition. “Do not let this Book of the Law depart from your mouth; meditate on it day and night so that you may be careful to do everything written in it. Then you will be prosperous and successful.” (Joshua 1:8) In God’s design, we become successful when we follow His commandments, not the whims of the world. Again and again the history of Israel shows us how generations who were obedient to God thrived, and how those who turned away from God were overthrown. In God’s design, success is not a location to drive through and snap pictures; it is a way of life walking in obedience with Him. It is a journey we take with Him securely at our side.

Town of Success Sign
You never know when God might take you on a detour through Success. (Photo by Janet Beagle)

I encountered my favorite definition of success just the other day embedded in one of those email forwards I usually delete. In it, a little girl asked her grandmother for her definition.

“Success,” she replied, “is when you look back at your life and the memories make you smile.”

What kind of memories are you building? Are they the kind that will bring a smile to both your and God’s face? It is a new day and a new opportunity to start your journey. Take the time to reach out to others, to work hard, to spend time with those you love. Listen to God’s guiding voice. He may just send you on a little detour through Success.

This blog was originally posted May 10, 2016 at http://www.inspireafire.com/on-the-road-to-success/. 

Waiting

I recently found myself in the midst of a possible house purchase.

I don’t remember ever thinking, “Hey, I think I’m ready to go look for a house.” I just woke up one day and discovered I was already looking. Despite my years of happy renting, I was suddenly staring at a potential purchase. Exciting. Terrifying. A little too sudden.

Then just as I was working up the nerve to put in an offer, my realtor went incommunicado.

Who does that? What realtor that close to an offer suddenly shuts down? What if this is my dream house and it’s sold out from under me while I wait? Worse, what if this is a sign that I should back off because it’s actually my nightmare home, and I could end up owning it?

Finally in desperation one night I prayed, “God, I give you this house. Do with it whatever you want…” And then I added, “But if you want me to do something, let me know. Because I could send the realtor another email. Or I could call. Would you like me to call? Or maybe I should see if there’s a different house I should look at. Maybe there’s a reason this is suddenly being put on hold. Maybe there are concerns with this house. Let me think about the possible concerns…”

Two hours later I still wasn’t asleep.

The next day my verse of the day was Psalm 27:14: Wait for the Lord; be strong, and let your heart take courage; wait for the Lord!

The following day a song on the radio reminded me, “Strength will rise as we wait upon the Lord. We will wait upon the Lord.”

I was starting to feel a bit like the lead character in that movie (Was it Bruce Almighty?) that was driving down the road calling out, “God give me a sign!” And all while he was pounding the steering wheel, a giant truck was weaving in front of him loaded with constructions signs that read “Wrong way. Do not enter. Danger.”

So okay, then. If I am supposed to wait upon the Lord, here is one conclusion I have come to: I’m not very good at it.

I have handed that house to God at least 217 times in the last several days, and every time I snatch it right back. I spasmodically check for messages from my realtor. I find myself re-routing my errands to drive past the house. I walk my dog through the neighborhood. I browse listings to see if anything has changed. I have done everything I can possibly think of… except actually turn it over to God.

I’m honestly at the point where I don’t even care what the outcome is so long as the outcome happens so I can stop thinking about it. You’d think that would make waiting easier, but it does not. Because while I don’t care which answer is the right one, I want the right answer to prevail. And what if I’m supposed to be doing something? What if God is waiting on me?

Hahahahahah

It’s laughable, isn’t it? To think almighty God needs something from me before He can act. And yet, in these terrible moments of indecision, isn’t that what it comes down to? Isn’t there some part of us that is scared that we are going to screw it up? As though there is something we could do that could possibly thwart God’s good plan for us.

Now that I think about it, God probably is waiting on me. I suspect He’s waiting on me to let go, and to let Him. He’s waiting on me to demonstrate my trust not just through my words, but through my actions.

God is waiting on me, to wait on Him.

Many are the plans in a man’s heart, but it is the Lord’s purpose that prevails (Proverbs 19:21).