Category: Parenting (page 2 of 7)

Feigning exhaustion

I love to run. That’s no secret. I’m among the <.03% of people that actually looks forward to long runs in oppressingly hot, humid weather. I look forward to my feet pounding the pavement, the the breeze (or lack thereof) whipping through the low spots, and the feeling at the end that, though I’m lying on the ground in a pool of my own sweat, I’ve done something significant. Though, in ultimate irony, I arrive at the same place I started.

My son’s developing this love as well. When he sees me getting ready for a run, he gets ready, too. He ties his shoes on extra tightly. Gets his bottle of water squared away. And queues up the songs he wants to hear as we run.

It’s simultaneously cute and manly.

He runs in ~.5 mile stretches. He’ll run ahead of me for a bit, taunting me as he looks back. Or he’ll run right beside me, talking about how much he loves being outside.

Then .5 mile hits, and he gets bored.

So he starts feigning exhaustion. Breathing hard. Retching his shoulders. Slowing down his words as if to catch his breath.

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Rex’s “I’m tired, but not really…” face

“I think…*big inhale, big exhale*…I want to ride in the stroller a while. I’m…*big inhale, big exhale*…getting…*pause for dramatic effect*…a little tired.”

So I strap him in the stroller as we trudge out a few more miles as he jabbers on about monsters, soccer practice, and one of his new-found friends at church.

He wasn’t tired at all! He wasn’t gassed. Wasn’t sore. Wasn’t out of energy.

He just wanted to quit for a while, and he knew what it looked like when daddy was tired. So he did that.

I wonder if we do the same thing in life?

We give up because we get bored. We want something new. Different. Shiny. And what we’ve been doing…well, we’re going to feign exhaustion so we can jump back in the jogging stroller.

And let us not grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up. So then, as we have opportunity, let us do good to everyone, and especially to those who are of the household of faith. – Paul, Galatians 6:9-10

You see what God’s called you to do. You’ve see it more clearly than you ever have.

  • The ministry he’s called you to start.
  • The small group he’s called you to launch.
  • The book He’s led you to write.
  • The person He’s called you to love.
  • The place He’s called you to go.
  • The job He’s told you to take.

Your “personal best” is way, way better than your perceived “best.” What you can do, who you can become, and the potential that you can accomplish is massively bigger than the expectations culture places on you. Or what your boss thinks you can do. Or who your spouse thinks you can become.

Because you serve a God that’s bigger than others’ expectations.

You have caught a vision for who God wants you to be. You’ve seen where that idea could lead. You’ve realized who it could impact.

But it’s not shiny anymore. It’s actually kind of boring, and the new smell has worn off. It used to give us energy, but now it feels more like a job.

Don’t. Quit. Now.

You’ll reap nothing if you quit now. They’ll reap nothing if you quit now.

Obedience is found in doing the right thing, even when it doesn’t feel right. Even when it feels boring, mundane, and work-like.

It’s time to keep running.

No jogging strollers allowed.

 

 

 

While I still can

My buddy Devin McGlamery (Twitter, Facebook, Instagram) has just released a new album. You can pick it up HERE.

I was blown away by this song. And if you’ve got kids…I think you will be, too. Keep the tissues handy.

 

 

A whole new level of gross

sweet-potato-fries

image credit: www.gimmesomeoven.com/

When we sat down for dinner, I assumed it was going to be a dinner just alike any other. Turns out it would be a dinner like no other.

Rex isn’t a particularly picky eater. He tends to eat whatever we put in front of him. Partly because of his taste buds. And partly because he knows that if he doesn’t eat the dinner my wife and I made, we’re not making him anything else.

This particular night, we were having sweet potato fries as a side. We’d sliced fresh sweet potatoes, drizzled them with olive oil, sprinkled with sea salt, and roasted them in the oven. The sweet aroma weaved its way through the house.

When we sat down to eat, Rex ate his meat, but didn’t want to eat the fries. I told him that he needed to eat at least a few of them. So he pushed them around on his plate, wrongly thinking I’d believe he’d eaten them. “I don’t like orange fries,” he said.

The battle began.

“Rex, you just have to eat 4.”

The battle continued.

Then I saw it happening, but I didn’t believe it. I thought he was faking it, because he’d done it before, trying one more time to get out of eating the sweet potato fries. He started retching a little, talking between heaves: “I really don’t like orange fries.”

“Buddy, you’re going to eat 4 before you leave this table.”

Retch.

Retch.

Then it happened. At the exact moment I’d decided to get on his level and remind him that he’s not getting anything else for dinner…no dessert…no…and I never finished that last sentence before I saw his supper again. He cried. And I wanted to.

I gently wiped his face and hands, and helped him change out of his clothes. I took his plate to the sink, and told him we’d probably had enough dinner tonight. Me, included.

Then I wiped my face off. My mouth out. My hands off. And I put on a fresh change of clothes, too.

Jesus’ Turn

That moment reminded how much Jesus loves me. He loves me enough to take on the mess of my sin. To bear it for me. Because even my best is like a “filthy rag.” (Isaiah 64:6)

He loves me enough to take on the shame of my sin. To look foolish so I don’t eternally have to. (Tweet that)

Every time I’m short with my son I’m reminded again of my stench.

Every time my pride rears it’s ugly head I’m given another glimpse into the dense layers of grace God offers us in Jesus. (Tweet that)

Every time I just care about myself, ignoring the needs of others, I see my stink one more time. Because Jesus doesn’t ignore me. (Tweet that)

Even when I commit the same stupid sin. Again.

Even when I’m less than the husband I should be. Again.

Every time I wallow in my guilt and shame, Jesus comes along and gently wipes my face off. Takes my plate to the sink. And gets me a new change of clothes. He sends me to the living room and says, “It’s ok. That’s enough for tonight. You’re all clean now.”

Once again He affirms His love for me. His love never fails. (Psalm 136:1)

Even when he wears your supper. (Tweet that)

 

The 10 Commandments of Fatherhood

You want to be the dad that doesn’t ruin your kids’ lives. You do. I (probably) don’t know you personally, but I know this about you.

Because it’s the same desire I have.

I want my son (and future daughter) to look back on their childhood and say, “Daddy was a good dad. He didn’t mess me up or leave me damaged. And I love Jesus more because of my dad.”

If anyone has something to say about fatherhood, it should be the one who created fatherhood, right? God better have something to say about it if He’s going to be a good dad. Which we know He is. (1 John 3:1)

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image credits: mine

10 Commandments of Fatherhood

1. Do not provoke your children to anger. (Ephesians 6:4)

Don’t publicly humiliate your child. Don’t give them undue and unfair discipline. Don’t make fun of them, even privately, just you and them. Instead, actively play with them, love on them, be “present,” and look for ways to honor them.

2. Bring them up in the Lord. (Ephesians 6:4)

Consistently have them worshipping in a healthy church. You, the adult, lead the way in church attendance and in living life openly and honestly with others (in a small group). Live out your faith at home.

3. Do not provoke your children…they’ll become discouraged (Colossians 3:21)

Encourage your children! Show them you’re proud of them…even when they color outside of the lines. Or, maybe especially when they color outside of the lines. Knowing they’ve made Dad proud is a huge accomplishment. Let them know this constantly, and help your children curb discouragement. You don’t want them seeking their sense of approval and worth from the world. Trust me, you don’t.

4. Discipline your children. (Proverbs 3:12; Hebrews 12:10)

Discipline in the moment feels negative. But it’s for our children’s good. It helps create structure, learning right from wrong, and shapes our children’s hearts. It also helps them understand the loving discipline of God that works for our good. The dad that doesn’t discipline his child is an unloving, unkind, and foolish dad.

5. Don’t abuse verbally, physically, emotionally, or spiritually. (Colossians 3:8)

This is just outright sinful. Don’t ever resort to this. What they’ve done never necessitates this. Ever!

6. Have fun. (Proverbs 17:22)

Enjoy your kids! Don’t be boring. Go outside and play. Take ’em to the park. Go to a ball game. Head out to the zoo. Play hide-and-seek. Figure out what they love, and do that with them. They’ll love you for it.

7. Give ’em good gifts. (Luke 11:13)

Give them something that they’ll love. Study them, and know what they like. Maybe that’s a video game. Maybe that’s a new baseball glove. Maybe it’s a book or a CD or a special piece of candy. Go out of your way to know your kids and their interests. Then go get them something they’ll love.

8. Hug them. (Ecclesiastes 3:5; 2 Corinthians 1:3-4)

Embrace your children. Give them comfort. Let them know they’re safe and secure with you. God loves and comforts us…let’s do the same with our kids.

9. Tell them you love them. (*Zephaniah 3:17)

Tell them every single day. Let them never doubt you love them because you fail to say it. God speaks over us…let’s speak over, and to, our children.

10. Be present. (Deuteronomy 31:6)

You can abandon your children without leaving the room. You know that, right? You can escape into something other than what you’re surrounded with and who you’re surrounded by. So put the phone down. Turn the TV off. No iPads. Or text messages. Just be with your kids. Time’s too short, and they’re too precious, to be consumed every moment with something else.

Time for dads to be dads. Ravenously loving our kids and constantly pointing them to Jesus. I’m ready to have a counter-cultural relationship with my son. Are you?

Anything you’d add to the 10 commandments?

*it’s a stretch in application, but hang with me. God’s “rejoicing over us,” to me, can apply to fathers rejoicing in love over their children. Which HAS to include telling your kids you love them. Right?

 

Our great news

You may have read a part of our story about our miscarriage. I shared my perspective, and my wife shared hers.

To be honest with you, it’s been painful. Questions like, “Is this your only child?” hurt. Surely they don’t mean anything by their questions, but they sure feels loaded with accusations.

“You should have more.”

“If you really valued children…”

Then there were the more pointed ones that cut deep. The things you should never say to a woman.

I’ve shared our story countless times. It felt raw, because it was. It felt painful, because it was. It felt unfinished, because it was.

And just at the moment where we were resigning ourselves to believing that our chance to have another biological child was complete, we got some pretty exciting news.

We are pregnant!

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Which is unbelievably exciting! I can’t tell you how much we’ve waited for this time.

But we’re battling our fears, even now. We’re in to the 2nd trimester (due October 11), but knowing how the last pregnancy ended, we know it could happen again. We know that we could lose this pregnancy like the last one. And we desperately don’t want to experience that again.

My wife and I have prayed more during this season than we ever have in our lives. It’s caused us to lean in to God and trust Him, because we honestly don’t know what else to do.

In fact, there’s nothing else we can do. It’s completely in God’s hands. Completely. There’s no medical procedure we can do, no precautions we can take, and no safety measures we can put in place. We’re doing everything we can…but it’s not enough.

Life is in God’s hands. We know that. We’ve always known it. But now, that truth feels palpable. Every time I look at my wife’s belly, I’m reminded that God is the author of life. He’s the one that knits us together (Psalm 139:13), and nothing happens outside of His plan.

We covet your prayers. More than anything, we’d beg you to plead to God on our behalf: preserve this young baby’s life.

If you’ll commit to praying, I’d love for you to leave a comment below. That would mean a lot to me and my wife.

 

 

Stupid, Crazy Faith

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CreationSwap user Thomas Roberts

Me: How many days did it take God to create everything?

Rex (my 4 year old son): 3?

Me: No, 6.

Rex: Oh. That’s a lot of days.

See, my son fully believed that the God he’s been learning about could’ve made everything in 3 days. That God was big enough and powerful enough and quick enough to make everything his eyes have ever come in contact with…in just 3 days. Why would He need 6? Why would it take Him a whole 6 days to make the earth, the animals, the trees, and the water?

He’s so awesome, He could do it in 3 if He wanted.

I’m so encouraged by Rex’s faith. He believes that God is bigger than even I say He is.

About that time the disciples came to Jesus and asked, “Who is greatest in the Kingdom of Heaven?”

Jesus called a little child to him and put the child among them. Then he said, “I tell you the truth, unless you turn from your sins and become like little children, you will never get into the Kingdom of Heaven. So anyone who becomes as humble as this little child is the greatest in the Kingdom of Heaven. – Matthew 18:1-4

The faith of an adult

Our faith, the faith of a rational, college-educated, enlightened adult is much less, isn’t it? It’s not quite as quick to believe. Not quite as quick to take that step of faith. A little more sluggish to accept the unacceptable, and grasp the miracles.

We’re a little slower than our kids are.

We struggle to believe

  • God can save our marriage
  • God can really change our dad’s heart
  • We will ever have a good relationship with our kids
  • We will ever be where we need to be spiritually
  • We can ever beat this addiction
  • She could ever forgive me
  • Our daughter could ever love me
  • Our life could ever count for something
  • God could actually be in control of our crazy lives
  • God could ever use him to minister Truth and Grace.
  • God could ever use me.
We rationalize our way out of miracles. We look for what we can see, touch, taste, feel…and base our belief on that. Rather than on the unchanging truth of who God has claimed to be, and what He has promised to us.

May you experience the love of Christ, though it is too great to understand fully. Then you will be made complete with all the fullness of life and power that comes from God. Now all glory to God, who is able, through his mighty power at work within us, to accomplish infinitely more than we might ask or think. – Ephesians 3:19-20

Faith is believing in what we can’t see. It’s trusting God for what He’s promised rather than what we’ve seen come true.

God can change your marriage. God can use you. God can use her. He can forgive you. He can use your addiction, and the victory you’re going to enjoy, to serve others.

It’s time you stopped believing lies. Stop believing the haters in your life. Stop listening to the voices that beat you up.

Start trusting in the promises given to you in the Bible. Start trusting in the One who loves you on your worst days. (Romans 5:6) Start believing the One who wants to give you life. (John 10:10) Star believing the One who loved you first. (1 John 4:19)

Start having the faith of a child, instead of the faith of an adult.

 

 

 

18 things you should never say to a woman

My wife and I have struggled with infertility. We brought you into our journey HERE and HERE.

When God brings you through pain and suffering and confusion, you’re marked forever. You’re not the same person. You don’t process life the same. You don’t grieve the same. You don’t celebrate the same. You don’t see other people the same way.

Experiencing a miscarriage has caused me to treat women, and couples, differently. I’m more cautious when talking with them about children. I think before I speak about pregnancy. I don’t bring up the idea of children with couples that don’t have any, unless they bring it up first. There are certain questions I don’t ask and statements I don’t make. There are jokes that I refuse to say, or laugh at. Ever.

womb

image credit: Matt Gruber, creationSwap

I’ve found that there are certain questions you should never ask a woman, whether she has 4 children or none. Whether she’s pregnant or single. Young or old.

How did I learn you should never ask these?

My wife and I have been asked (or heard others being asked) each of these. In church. At Starbucks. At the grocery store. Over the phone. Or in an email. And there’s something inside of me that burns with anger when we’re asked. I know that most of the time, these questions are harmless.

But they’re hurtful. They bring up past pain and suffering. They bring up current pain and suffering. They remind us that we may never, ever give birth again.

If you want to walk through life with people in a way that builds healthy relationships, take note…and never say these things.

Things you should never say to a woman

Have you thought about having kids?

When are you going to start your family?

By the time we were your age, we had __ kids already!

You know it only gets harder to have kids the older you get, right?

What’s wrong with you, that you guys haven’t had kids yet?

You’ll never know what real parenting is until you have more than one.

Are you just not ready for another child?

Are you just being selfish? Why don’t you want children?

You guys would make great parents.

It’s about time you guys had a baby. The clock’s ticking!

To people specifically dealing with infertility

I know exactly what you’re going through…

We had 3 miscarriages before we had…

You can always adopt.

At least you have one child already.

Did you know that there are doctors out there that can fix you?

When are you going to try to have another kid?

Having one miscarriage doesn’t mean you’re done. Just keep trying!

Well, at least you’ve got each other.

Have you ever been asked hurtful questions about your children/pregnancy?

 

 

8 Ways to Ensure Your Kids Won’t Hate Church

My son gets to hang out in my office quite often. I love that he loves it. Maybe his love is rooted in the toys and candy I keep in the bottom drawer, just for him. But maybe it’s because he just genuinely loves me. I’m banking solely on #1 at this point in his life.

This week, though, my wife was out of town, and Rex had to go to work with me all day.

I had to jump on a conference call, and the movie he was watching was a little loud. I asked him if he wouldn’t mind putting some headphones on. Then he gave me this look.

He’s got the sass of his mama. 🙂

 

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One of my goals of fatherhood is to raise a son that doesn’t hate church. It’s not a given reality that my son will grow up loving the Church. As a pastor’s kid, he’s got an uphill battle ahead, especially considering the pastor’s kids I knew growing up. Right now, he’s loving Longhollow, where I’m on staff. But we’ve got a lot of years ahead of us, and I’ve got a lot of work to do to keep us on this path.

My child loving the church his whole life isn’t a given…and neither is it for yours.

Should you ‘force’ your kids to go to church? Or let them choose?

Should you let them go to the main worship service with you when they want? Or put them in the kids area?

Let them wear what they want? Or dress them to the nines?

Here are some intentional actions I’m taking to keep my son from growing up to hate the Church.

8 Ways to Ensure Your Kids Won’t Hate Church

1. Make small group a priority in your life.

Every week, my wife and I go to small group. We help Rex understand how important it is for mommy and daddy to do this, and that through it, we become better parents.

2. Go to churches with amazing children’s ministries.

Check (Grace Community Church) and check (Long Hollow). Without ministries intentionally investing truth, and fun, into my child’s life, why would I expect him to want to come back?

3. Give your family your best time, not just your leftover time.

I don’t want to always come home tired and frustrated and burned out. It’s easy in the church world to give others your best consistently, and forget that your family is your priority. Whether you’re a volunteer or on staff, giving others your best is easy to give your best to others, because they “need” you and constantly affirm you. When you give others your best, you create resentment in your family.

4. Don’t make church attendance an option for your kids.

Our son never has the option of ‘bargaining’ his way out of going to church. Just like he never bargains his way out of going to bed at night or buckling up in his car seat. It’s not that we ‘force’ anything. We just never give him another option. “How dare you force your kids to go to church?!?” Really? Don’t you ‘force’ your kids to go to school? To go to bed? To eat dinner? To go to the doctor?

5. When I’m home, I’m home.

I don’t want him to think that daddy has to “work” all of the time. I want him to know that when I’m home, I’m really home, not just distracted by work. If you don’t work in a church, it might be different for you, but the principle is the same. Don’t be so distracted by ministry that you neglect the ministry right in front of you.

6. Live out your faith at home and at church.

I’m nowhere near perfect in my life, but my faith is real and active at home and at church. We talk about spiritual things at home, read our Bibles, and pray together consistently.

7. Make prayer a regular part of your public, and private, life.

We don’t just pray at church, or when other people are watching us. We pray together as a family even when it’s not what we ‘have’ to do. When all you do is pray at church, and for others to see, you create an unhealthy, hypocritical dynamic for your children.

8. Don’t rip your pastor in front of your kids.

I don’t try to hold our local church, or any, on a pedestal of perfection…but I also guard my words carefully so that my son doesn’t grow up with a jaded view of the bride for whom Christ died. I don’t want him thinking everybody is perfect, but I also don’t want him growing up not trusting anyone.

Train up a child in the way he should go; even when he is old he will not depart from it. – Proverbs 22:6

Do your kids enjoy church? What about you? What did your parents do to help you not hate church?

 

 

 

 

Pain hurts: a reflection on our miscarriage

I originally posted this 2 years ago. My wife and I are coming up on the 2-year mark for this portion of our stories, but with the massive changes in our lives recently (I’m now on staff at Long Hollow), I wanted to share this again. Just so you know, this was, and is, a painful part of our story.

 

It wasn’t just a miscarriage. It didn’t feel like we were “losing a pregnancy.” It felt like we were losing a baby.

Those are the words I’ve uttered countless times to countless people. As the news eked in through little spurts of information from multiple ultrasounds and blood tests, what we feared became a reality. “It’s not a viable pregnancy” didn’t make the pain or reality disappear. It didn’t make the baby growing inside my wife any less of a human.

Earlier this year, my wife experienced the most pain we’ve experienced in our marriage. My wife processed it out loud on my blog HERE.

Though the pain wasn’t as visceral for me, it was no less real. Through the process, I learned some valuable lessons.

Lessons I learned through a miscarriage

Every life is a gift.

I value my own life, and especially the life of my won, so much more now. It’s so much more valuable.

Every life is miracle.

Seeing that this whole pregnancy/birthing process doesn’t just happen automatically has really helped me see how each and every birth is a great miracle.

Experiencing a miscarriage is a real loss.

Not that I didn’t understand this from a theological, academic standpoint. But going through it myself, experiencing that loss, has given me a greater understanding of how to minister to people who are experiencing this. We had talked about the difficulty of miscarriages in seminary. But it was all theory. And I know that someone doesn’t have to go through every difficulty before they can help someone else. But there’s a different weight, a different level of help, that you give once you’ve experienced the exact pain that another person is experiencing.

There’s no “getting over” this.

I dont’ think it’s possible to really “get over” this loss. You can move on. You can grow. But to think that you can “get over” this as if it never really happened is foolish. Anytime you experience significant pain, the answer in coping is learning how to deal with life differently, because life has been altered.

My wife and I are doing well. We’ve grown because of this. Grown in ways we probably wouldn’t have otherwise.

We’ve still not had the joy of getting pregnant again. Maybe God will see fit for us to head back down that path. But maybe not.

Regardless, we’re trusting Him.

*photo credit Creation Swap user: Joe Cavazos

 

 

Thoughts on love and loss

I originally posted this 2 years ago. My wife and I are coming up on the 2-year mark for this portion of our stories, but with the massive changes in our lives recently (I’m now on staff at Long Hollow), I wanted to share this again. Just so you know, this was, and is, a painful part of our story.

_________________________________________________________

This is a guest post from my wife, Laura.  We had a miscarriage earlier this year, and here are her thoughts moving forward.  You can follow her on Facebook HERE, and the company she (and my wife and sister-in-law) created HERE.
image by Reggie Tiongco

I still remember the first time I saw our baby- all curled up on the monitor screen- the sweet profile of the head, nubs of arms and legs not quite developed.  It was love at first sight.  That was our baby.  The one we has waited so long for.  The one that made our Rex a big brother.

Looking back, the night we found out we were pregnant was such a bad time to take a pregnancy test. It was humorous really, Superbowl Sunday, people expected at our house any minute.  I’m not really sure what I was thinking.  With all of the negative test we had taken over those months, I knew whichever way the test went I would find it hard to be a good hostess. Maybe not knowing would have been just as hard.

I surely didn’t expect it to be positive. Oh, and the events following that night and it’s announcement.  I have often tried to make sense of the purpose of that short life growing inside of me.  It’s true, that through announcing our joy we were able have a heart-to-heart with loved ones- clear the air about where our relationship had been and where we all wanted it to be.  And while I wouldn’t trade that sweet moment in their living room for anything, our baby was alive then.

Where is the meaning in the death?

My mother-in-law once told me that what she remembers most about that day was me.  She said I looked so small and vulnerable on the bed in that big ultrasound room.  I tried to be strong in that moment- maybe just optimistic.  I’ve noticed that about myself- I’m always looking for a way to make things happen, even when I’m told they can’t.  I just kept trying to tell myself that maybe the ultrasound tech was wrong.  That once I saw my doctor she would be able to see whatever the tech couldn’t.  If I were honest though, I think I knew that the life was gone. I had that sinking feeling since the beginning of the pregnancy.  I prayed about it a lot, begging God to protect the life growing inside me.  I pushed down the worries, thinking that buying maternity clothes and picking out names would magically change what I suspected might happen.  As if we can DO anything to change what God has already written.  That is, anything but pray.

The rest of March came and went in a blur of emotions.  In some ways I feel like it flew by, in other ways it drug on and on.  For the most part I guess I knew I was okay, but I wondered if I had really come to terms with my situation or if I was running from dealing with it.  I guess both may be true.

It’s a funny thing about love and loss.  There is hardly a day that goes by that I don’t think about the baby on that monitor screen.  Not so much grieving the loss any more, these days I am mostly filled with questions:

Will I continue to have miscarriages or even be able to get pregnant again?  Will I ever meet my little one? Know if I had a he or a she? Will I ever feel that baby in my arms, the way I now do with my sweet niece?

I’m sure that asking ten different professionals would yield ten different answers.  And in a way, maybe the answers don’t really matter.

What matters is the journey through this time.

I surely cannot say that I am on the other end- but, I can say that the Lord is walking me through it.

And, while I don’t know all the ways He is working on me as a result of this experience, I know He is working.  There is unbelievable comfort in that.  He promises never to leave us or forsake us.  He promises to work good for those who love him- making us more like Himself with ever step.  Whatever the storm, whatever the situation, He is there and He is working.

There is no question in that.

 

 
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