Rubber boots filled with snow

If anyone had been privy to the scene the other day, they may have taken my name down and called someone to intervene. It was hilarious but I couldn’t  laugh at the moment, I was too busy.

You see, spring is just around a few corners. Oh, we have had above freezing temperatures, but I’m not fooled. I know this wonderful weather will come and go and when it goes usually there is a snowstorm in it for us.  It’s been LOVELY! In fact, my kids have gotten along so well, with all the outdoor air in their bodies, that I’ve had to check to see if they are still really my kids and not aliens that have taken over their personalities. I have enjoyed and relished this week of spring in the air. The sunshine, the smiles, the trampoline antics…well, maybe not the antics because they give me such a horrifying vision of possible injuries. The kids forget every year how their poor bodies have atrophied over winter. Not really, but their core strength is not what it was when they last jumped with wild abandon and the tricks they try are scary to watch. I give the usual “Don’t do that anymore, you are going to end up in the hospital or worse!” routine. They look my way to placate me but I know they are ignoring me so I walk away and pretend they obeying every word.

Since they could walk, the melting of snow, even if only slightly above freezing, indicated that they should throw most of their clothing to the wind and free their feet of cumbersome boots. Of course, they come back inside crying over how cold they are but only after rolling about in the puddles for a few icy minutes.

The other day, with the snow melt-y but not yet melted, they tramped outside in their newly found rubber boots. Every year (shaking head in wonder) they think that the rubber boots will somehow make them impervious to the frigid water of the enormous puddles that abound.

Every year, it’s a lesson learned the fun way. This year, I smiled as I whisked them outside without jackets but wearing their trusty (and maybe a smidge too small) boots on. I’m a good mom, really. They aren’t in shorts yet (I’ve hidden them) so that’s something! Not five minutes later a shrill but long screech could be heard rounding the corner and pounding up the deck steps. I usually let the kids come and tell me what’s what when someone’s crying (unless they can’t move to come and tell me) but the sound was so desperate I figured I should really go to the door and ask. There, my youngest was yelling “COLD!COLD!HELP!THE SNOW…I CAN’T GET THEM OFF!!!!!” A little confused I wondered about what she was screaming about. She rushed inside and as she passed me I could see her boots were plum FULL of heavy packed snow. Oh, now that would burn!

I took her quickly back outside and thought it a quick task to dispense of. Those rubber boots were PACKED, simply packed to the top and apparently the boots didn’t fit as well as she said they did. She sat on the deck as I pulled and pulled and she screamed at the very top of her lungs as though she were dying. I put my foot on her tummy (and not very hard but to give me a little leverage) and pulled some more. She was frantic and as the pulling continued I started feeling for my poor little girl. My pulls got a little more enthusiastic but I wanted to be sure not to pull too hard either. I was considering dousing her in cooking oil but with her screaming freaky murder I just kept hoping the suction on the boots would miraculously give way to freedom. I smiled a bit as I realized what it must look like. Me with my foot on her tummy and pulling with all my might at her foot, all the while she was screaming like the end of the world was upon us.

The boot did pop off eventually and then we had to face the other boot.

At long last, we freed both her reddened feet and scooted inside for a pair of warm socks and a blanket. All was well in her world again and I sighed with relief.

I asked her if she needed a bigger pair of boots perhaps? She replied that she did. Not sure if it would have helped her with the boots slammed tight with all that snow but maybe? It couldn’t have hurt, that’s for sure.

For future reference I told her that maybe she should wait until the snow is a little more melted (and a warmer day) before she tries the puddles again. She did not disagree but snuggled in closer for a little warmth.

All is well that ends well.

March Madness!!

All winter I’ve been waiting for this month! The month where everyone complains about the Canadian Prairie weather and I will be tested in my resolve to stay positive for the first March since, well, probably since I moved to the wide open prairies. I promised myself and God that I would not complain about the weather. I was very specific about that. I didn’t say I wouldn’t complain at all :) but about the weather? Nada negative word would cross these lips. I think I’ve almost done it too.

You see, right here where I live, March is NOT spring, almost never. Winter drags on longer here than a rash on a baby’s bottom. Oh sure, we get tricked into thinking that the snow will be gone soon by the weather forecasters promising a week of above zero temperatures. It makes us all a little loonie. We have a few days of melting, then kabam! it’s the Blizzard of the Century and temperatures at record-setting lows for the first time in history.1960095_10151932139966190_238625747_n

I’ve caught on to the prairie winter weather thing now. It’s only taken me two decades. I’m not fooled this year! And that’s why I’m so darned positive. I moved here willingly, along with my man, and here we are going to stay for as long as the Lord sees fit. I keep trying to convince Him that we are supposed to move to Mexico, or Jamaica or Hawaii but so far it’s a no go. In fact, I’ve met some people from other HOT and tropical lands who chose to live HERE and they are NOT complaining about the weather. If someone who grew up in the tropics or desert can handle these harsh winters then certainly a born and raised Canadian can too! This is a fabulous country and I chose to live here. I am dealing with it! Life is good here too. I have a warm house, a loving family, a peaceful country and friends that make life wonderful.

I won’t complain about the weather. It’s been sunny and cold and I am not down about it. It’s SUNNY!! Yipee!

But the ups and downs in weather have my body in a cranky mood. My spirit is light and happy but my body is in a very dark place. The ups and downs in barometric pressure as the cold and warm fronts make their way into and out of our lives test me. Oh my do they test me. That’s why I promised not to promise about never complaining about my body and it’s cranky old ways.

It goes to show you, fibromyalgia is NOT all in the mind because, besides the hormonal mood swings of peri-menopause, my mind is GOOD. I feel great about getting through winter with God’s strength and positive outlook. I know that determining to not dwell on the negative and instead dwell on the positive my outlook about winter has been awesome. I get those long johns on those cold days and I wrap myself up so I don’t feel the cold as badly.

You see? It was in March that I married the man I still love passionately, the month that I welcomed two of my babies home, the month that other dear family members have birthdays in. Easter is sometimes in March, though, not this year. It’s a time of getting through the last of the challenge of winter and moving onto the hope of spring (sometimes) and it’s just a good, all around month.

It’s MARCH!! Yipee Skippy! I’ve made it through most of the winter and soon it will be spring. Even if it last through record-breaking months or weeks. Last year was the longest one ever so chances are spring IS just around the corner.

I am not going to wish I was somewhere else this last bit of winter! I will be thankful for a WARM house and HOT water. I am incredibly thankful for the way God has provided for us so that we can have a great March! We get to have 2 birthdays, an anniversary, another big 50th anniversary celebration (my in-laws!!) and many other special times this March.

It’s ok if March came in like a lion. It’s ok if it doesn’t go out like a lamb! It’s going to be spring SOMEDAY and that someday is closer than it was last month.

The only March Madness I will feel will be the birthday party and anniversary celebration prep and all it’s insanity. But even then, we are celebrating people we love and I am thankful for them.

I love March!

I said I’d never…

And I should know better by now!

I’ve actually said “NEVER!!” a few times in my life and have pretty much always ended up eating my words.

The first “never” I can remember saying is “I will never weigh more than____ lbs”, thinking I’d escape my long line of voluptuous genetics, as a teenager. What did I know? I was wrong. Quite drastically wrong.

Another “never” I remember saying is I will never run a race unless it’s away from a dangerous mountain lion or bear of some sort. I knew that should those scenarios happen, I would be dead meat. Then last summer I ran, in a race. I didn’t do well, mind you, but I ran the 5km. I also didn’t die!!

As I write this post, I am doing another “never” I told myself for many years. I am writing for fun. For FUN!! Landsakes a livin’! What’s going on here? I guess you can change, even if you are in midlife. I’m even attempting to write a book and have several other ideas in mind for writing projects. If I could carve out the time to put my fingers and brain into it I’d have it done by now.

Now here I go and start another “never” I swore I’d never do.

No offence to any independent sales consultants or owners of direct marketing businesses…but I said I’d never do it. While I’ve rocked it out in the retail world, especially if I liked the product, I never wanted to come across as pressuring family or friends to buy something or join an organization just because they knew me. The very nature of this business is connecting first with family and friends. That’s how most everyone gets their start. Being in the ministry also makes this situation a little more awkward. We are in the business of marketing Jesus. Well, you know what I mean. I found that people who were trying to sell me these type of direct marketing-type businesses were pretty much always more enthusiastic about their product/organization then they were their relationship with Jesus. I never want it to seem that I love anything more than I love Jesus. I don’t want to be more enthusiastic about anything than I am about what Jesus has done for us and the love that he has for us. Never.

There. There’s a never I’m going to stick with. If I ever break that one, you are free to tell me and smack me upside the head.

This product and company is different from others that I’ve been introduced to. It’s different because I like it, it’s affordable and it’s a pretty sweet deal as far as investment vs. risk. While I know I will invest more time than money in the beginning, what I paid for the starter package was fully worth it in product that I received. If I happen to not be able to do it for health or whatever reason, I have more than made up for it in product received.

What is it? It’s tea. Steeped Tea. As simple as that. I tried the tea and liked it very much. I attended a few tea parties that were fun and the tea was terrific. I enjoyed it so much that I asked my consultant friend if I could be a consultant too. She tried not to dance in glee but I could tell she was excited.

Just to be totally honest, I wanted the tea at the consultant’s price. Word. I am cheap. Turns out that the company is so amazing that I can’t help but try to sell it. I don’t want to pressure people into buying, ever. But the tea is so good it will sell itself. The company has such high standards and has even been featured on Dragon’s Den. Two of the “Dragons” were so excited about the company that they immediately made offers.

Anyways, here I am selling tea. And I LOVE it. Not as much as Jesus or my family…but I do like it very much. I had my first party last night. Well, it wasn’t my first. I had a training party where my consultant and friend showed me how to do it. Last night was fun even if I forgot most of what I was going to say.

Never say never. I have eaten my words so many times. Have you ever said never then realized you had to change your mind about it? Most of the time it’s a good thing. A growing thing. In my case, it’s a tea thing.

PS. If you want to know how to get the tea and do it through me, then let me know. I will give you my info in a private message.

Be real

Perfection.

I never set out to achieve this illusive idea. Back in the day, when I was growing up, I didn’t feel pressure to be perfect. In fact, as a middle child, I saw that perfection was an impossible task. So, when I became the wife of a hopeful pastor-to-be, I knew I was supposed to shine the light of Christ to those around me (as all people who have a relationship with Jesus should) but I knew I would never be perfect until the other side of life.

Fast forward a couple of decades, and somehow I’ve lost the ability to see reason, where perfection is concerned. As the internet became a full blown lifestyle for the entire world, and perfect images and writing seemed almost commonplace, I stood out as an all-too-imperfect specimen. While I had been comfortable in my seeming mediocrity, I was no longer content to be so.

Since beginning my venture into blogging/writing, I have received flack from the most surprising of places. People that I thought were fairly supportive began seeing me for who I truly was. I was being, what I thought, was real. Apparently, my real is hard to swallow. Somehow, I was supposed to have risen above what life dealt and not be human. Then, with the perusal of other people’s lives, I began to think there was something awfully wrong with being real.

Don’t get me wrong. I get what they were trying to say. They were trying to point out to me that maybe I wasn’t at the place I was supposed to be. I was over-sharing. I should be an example, a beacon. I shouldn’t still be struggling with very human issues. Sinful issues. I shouldn’t be that immature. You know what? They were a little right.

“I don’t really understand myself, for I want to do what is right, but I don’t do it. Instead, I do what I hate.” (Rom. 7:15 NLT – the apostle Paul speaking)

And wrong.

If Paul, who wrote many of the books in the New Testament struggled, maybe it isn’t so unusual for a mature believer to struggle…

So, with people telling me that it wasn’t really very mature of me to share my struggles and that I should be in a different place PLUS the rest of the “world” pushing the illusion of perfection, I stopped wanting to be real.

Except that there is one thing about being real. Being real makes you relatable.

While drawing closer to God does change you and putting his Word in your memory and heart does make the temptation and lure of the world less appealing, there is going to be a struggle until we die. We are ALL at different places in our spiritual walk. Some of us are far away, some of us are long into our journey and have come a long way.

The good news is that there is grace for ALL.

For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith–and this not from yourselves, it is the gift of God–  not by works, so that no one can boast.”Eph.2:8-9
We don’t have to work for it. We don’t have to be perfect. We can be real. I just love this next part…
“Then Christ will make his home in your hearts as you trust in him. Your roots will grow down into God’s love and keep you strong. And may you have the power to understand, as all God’s people should, how wide, how long, how high, and how deep his love is. 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.” Eph. 3:17-19 NLT
When Christ is in our lives and we understand what he did for us, we will understand more and more what that actually means – we will understand the LOVE he has for us more deeply. That understanding changes the very essence of us. The struggle with the sinful things of this world and our humanity still is raging but we become less attached to the things that look tempting and more attached to the God who loves us so very much.
It gives me shivers, actually.
I am being made complete.
Does that mean that life suddenly got easier? No way. My life is freaking hard sometimes, my friends. I am going to be real about that. I will continue to write about the battle because the battle is raging for our hearts and souls.
We know how it all turns out though, and I’ve got to tell you, I am looking forward to the day where Jesus will make it all right again in the end.
Until that time, I’m living on grace, not perfection.

 

Does God answer prayer?

What do you think?

I used to think that most of my prayers were getting lost somewhere in the atmosphere and scattering about in the wind. I would pray all day long as I went about my activities but never stopped to get on my knees. I would hear of people needing prayer and prayed for them as I went about my day. I have seen many prayers get answered, but in some cases I never found out what happened. There were many of the big “Wow” prayers that I felt weren’t answered in a “Wow” way.

This past year, I’ve been encouraged and taught by spiritually mature friends how to communicate with God. God is not just some being that looks at us every once in a while from his perch on high, fairly disinterested in his creation. He’s not a wish-giver who magically says “Sure” every time we pray. It’s more about the relationship than a “Can you do this for me…now?” thing.

He wants to communicate with us. It’s personal, this relationship. I haven’t taken part of the relationship and truly communicating with my God seriously enough. This past year has been one of growth and insight into prayer.

Challenged to pray in the spirit and specifically, I prayed for a few certain situations the other day. My hands raised in the air as I worshipped the Creator of all, from my bed, I talked with my Friend. It’s amazing that the Creator is mindful of little ol’ me. He’s not only my Creator, but Savior and FRIEND. He is waiting to hear my prayers so he can release his answers. The answers were not always what I thought they would be, but they were always answered. The answers to my prayers are ones that draw me or others into a closer bond with him. He wants to walk with me and I with him.

He desires relationship where we are familiar with him and seek a closer walk. “I have hidden your word in my heart, that I might not sin against you.” Ps. 119:11 “May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be pleasing in your sight, oh Lord, my Rock and my Redeemer.” Ps.19:14 These verses have been my prayer for the last week.

There have been specific prayers I have prayed. Some for issues in my children’s lives and some in our own personal lives. I was trusting for God to move and answer as he saw fit. I could imagine several things happening or not depending on circumstances. I saw two specific prayers answered today and it was fairly clear that it was not ME that instigated the outcome but it was God himself. And, I was not expecting to see answers this quickly.

HE has his own timetable because he is the one with the Big Picture and the Big Plan. He sees what is going on and wants to give good things to us. I think he chooses to release things when we pray. It’s not that he can’t do anything to resolve situations until we pray, he may just wait until we ask…kind of like a parent, right? He’s not a genie in the bottle that we control. Rather he waits until his loved children pray and then releases things to be so. Sometimes it looks way different than what we want, but it is still GOOD.

I am not sure if I’m making sense because I am so tired but I wanted to tell you that…

HE answers prayer.

Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome

Just what is that strange word I put up there in my title? It may be the answer that I have been looking for all these years. It may be the “thing” that will make my life make more sense. The “Aha” in the mystery of what has happened in my body all my LIFE. The answer to the Fibro and CFS that I’ve endured for decades at an ever-worsening rate. It may be the answer to “WHY?”

“Why are my fingers so crooked, Mom?” I would ask. “I don’t know, dear, it’s just how you were born.” I may have shown off my incredibly flexible joints at that time because those fingers, as crooked as they are could move into contortions that would make some feel nauseous. the rest of my body is and was hyper flexible from the very start.

“I have these shooting pains that happen randomly through my body, Mom. What is that? Is that normal?” She would typically reply. “I don’t know, but it could just be your mind playing tricks with your body.”

“Dr. why am I losing so many babies? Is there something wrong with my body?” The Dr.’s answers went something like this: “We have run all the tests to see why these miscarriages are happening to you and we see nothing to be alarmed about. Maybe it’s just your body’s way of getting rid of embryos that have something wrong with them.” After losing Josiah and then three more pregnancies, the Doctors remained stumped as to why I was not able to carry a baby to term. They just couldn’t find a reason.

“Why do I have several organs that are malformed and not working like they should?” Shoulder shrug.

“I am just so tired all the time and feel like I just can’t function. My body hurts so badly sometimes I want to scream.” Doctors would imply “It’s all in your mind.” or say “We are diagnosing you with Fibromyalgia because of the chronic pain and Chronic Fatigue Syndrome because of your fatigue.” And then just give me a list of things I could try that may or may not work.

Finally, after years of suffering I think I had someone has given me a lead into what could very well be the answer!

Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome. A rare genetic condition that my cousin was diagnosed with a few years back. It usually runs in families and she was kind enough to send me links of information that I could gape at. I gaped because it described what I thought was quirks and deformities and odd qualities about myself and made it make sense. It was an “Aha!!” Moment. I am convinced that this syndrome is actually why things in my life have been painful, strange, and tiring since the beginning of my memories. All my life, I have felt that much of my pain was all in my head. When I would get sick, it was in my head. I felt like I had to explain that what I wasn’t just faking and that it wasn’t all in my mind.

Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome has some specific characteristics. There are a few different types of the syndrome and so the symptoms vary some from person to person, but there are more common symptoms which are taken by observation and put on a scale to narrow down the possibility of having it. Genetic testing can be done and I have been referred  to a specialist. I’ve waited a good long time and hope our health system can show me a favor by getting me in after waiting more than a year.

There is a test called the Beighton Scale, is a list to verify hypermobility of joints. It is said that if you can do a certain criteria of hyper flexible moves then you are officially at risk for Ehlers-Danlos syndrome. It is one of the main criteria for diagnosing Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome. I’ve done the scale myself and find myself with the score  of “Um Yah, you have this genetic condition.”

There are SO many of my symptoms that didn’t make sense before and now make sense that I am not even doubting, before genetic testing, that my ancestors handed down this lovely syndrome for me to enjoy and call “Fibromyalgia”. It helps make my life, my pregnancy losses and other things make sense right down to my crooked fingers and velvety skin! :-)

Why is this important to know at this stage in my life? Well, it helps me know that I haven’t been crazy,  with all these things going on in my body. It wasn’t all in my mind. It wasn’t because I was an emotional mess. It is just that I have a genetic reason for it. My body was created in this way. It helps Dr’s know how to treat me and to know that there are certain things they should look at when I come in with a list of symptoms. This genetic condition messes with the production of collagen in my body and collagen is in every cell. It can affect many areas of the body in the organs, connective tissues and on.

Knowing that this is the Genetic Syndrome that has probably been with me all my life doesn’t make me freak out. In fact, it’s the opposite. I feel at peace. I was created and born for a purpose. God knew this long before I did. He knows my limitations because he allowed me to be born with them. He is in control.

My journey to writing

Writing on my blog has been on my mind for a while. Why has it taken so long for me to write? I think that God has been working on my heart in regards to my next post and my words were not coming together to make it a cohesive thought.

As a new-ish writer and a hope-to-be speaker and possible humorist (I have some big impossible looking goals, I know) I think to myself, “What could God possibly have to say through me?”  What have I got that others, around the globe or even in my province, don’t have? The big question is “Why would God use ME?”

I mean, he has so many other capable people. There are people that actually carry out the things they set out to do. I am not the most goal-oriented person ever. The fact that I have a story to tell, some of it funny and some of it tragic, does not mean I have to tell it. Everyone has a story. Why ME? Why should I write my story when there are so many other stories that are so incredibly moving and inspired by God. He doesn’t need me to write another story of how he has deepened someone’s faith through struggles and triumphs. There are so many great authors who have told their God stories. And just how do I morph the stories of tragedy in my life into the humor that God has given as a gift to lighten the load of the loss I’ve experienced?

I have an inherent problem of thinking I’m not that special. Out of the billions on the globe I will only know a few and only a few will know me. I will live my life for Jesus, I will die, and the world will exist and move on without really knowing I ever came here to make a difference. In the past few years, I have listened to some fantastic speakers and think “Now there’s a gal who has been called by God to speak, has a story to tell and she does it with such grace and wisdom.  I don’t know why God thinks I could do that? It’s just me. Little ol’ Marcy.”

I am currently writing my story and have thought, “Wow, there are so many talented authors who actually went to University to learn how to write well. I can barely spell the word thorough (Nope couldn’t do it. Spell check is my best writing buddy).” I can see why these authors have been chosen to tell stories and write articles and do all the beautiful things they do with words, but me? Why me? Why is he pushing my heart in this direction. Doesn’t he know I only have a couple of years in college? And it wasn’t about writing. I look back on my college papers and cringe, slightly impressed I got the grade that I did.

I’ve said this before….I hated writing. In elementary and high school I couldn’t get my thoughts out quickly enough with pen and paper and often forgot my original thought by the time I had some words written out. I didn’t think I was very good at it, and most of all, I didn’t enjoy it. Enter, the digital age. I didn’t consider writing consistently until my sister said I should write out the crazy antics of my kids into a book. Sure, I kept her in stitches, but write them down? Well, I thought, it can’t hurt to try. I’ll blog. And blog I did. I wrote badly. My technique and grammar was fairly pathetic and my spelling? Whew!  I didn’t edit, I just hit “publish” and there I was, PUBLISHED. Ha!

The thing is, I started to LOVE writing my stories. People liked reading what I was writing. At the very least, my relatives thought I was a hoot. They thought it was entertaining. That was a new thought to me. People actually wanted to read my next post? Who knew?

The next crazy thought, a few years later, was that maybe I should write a book and try to get it published. How hard could it be? Then I went and took a Writing Course at Breakforth in Edmonton, AB where NJ Lindquist was teaching. She was realistic but didn’t crush hopeful writing dreams. I liked her immensely and learned so very much in that one day. She said that 2 out of 100 people who write ever get published.  I calculated how many of us in that class would probably ever get published. About 2 of us. I was sitting with one of my dearest friends who writes beautifully, and thought “She’s definitely in, so that leave number 2 spot for me.” So strong was my conviction.

This girl, who thought she was TERRIBLE at the art of words and who could barely put two sentences together in front of a crowd, was being called out by God to do the things she wasn’t qualified to do. Why me? Why insignificant little ol’ me?

I have four children, some of whom have special needs. These special issues take up a lot of my energy. And what do you know? I also have Chronic Fatigue and Fibromyalgia and Arthritis. Just life, as a whole, takes up most of my energy. Just where is God going to pull from to make anything of significance happen with all those roadblocks? Oh, then there is the ministry part. My husband is a pastor and that is an amazing and often demanding job. I just don’t have time or energy for God to have something more for me to do.

It turns out that, a couple of years back, I was sitting in a crowd of 10,000 people at a Breakforth  conference. In the middle of all the noise, people and darkness, God said something directly into my soul. “I see you. I see YOU. You are not insignificant. I the God of the Universe, see YOU in this crowd.” I realized that I was not just one more of those human beings walking around on the planet and who was lost in the middle of a huge crowd. Yes, I was going to squish my way through the crowd and go back home to life as usual., but was it going to be going home to life as usual… really? No, he had something planned for ME. It startled me. Made me weep. The God who formed the UNIVERSE has bigger plans for me? I thought that I was livin’ the dream. I was doing what he had called me to do. I knew that I was. And yet…

I don’t know how he’ll do it. After all, I still can’t seem to get to the computer to write out my thoughts when I want to. My book is taking way more time (that I don’t have) than I thought it would take. I found out I should probably get an agent at some point and then find an editor or two…and I may have to wait for miraculous funds to do all that. That only touches a small part of what it will mean to publish a book and get things rolling.

I still don’t have any large or small crowds that want to hear what I have to share. My church was gracious enough to let me speak last year. They were kind.

Some days I can not get out of bed because my body aches so badly or it needs a break from the strenuous life I lead. It can put me on survival mode for several days to a week. There are days I can barely get out of my pajamas to home school my two kids and see my other two kids off to school.

I don’t know WHAT he’ll do. And maybe by the small steps I am taking now, I am working toward the goal that he has for me. I hope it is so.

I have come to realize this… that it doesn’t matter what I think the timing should be or the venue it should take place at or when I get the book done, it’s WHO am I doing it for? If he plans things for me then he is in charge of the details. He is the One who called me to this strange and unexpected thing called writing. Even if I never did anything else, perhaps his plans for me have been already accomplished.

I know that the God of the Universe sees ME (along with really seeing and caring for each person in this world) and I am humbled and honored and I worship him at the thought of him caring about little ol’ me.

Have you ever felt insignificant? If you do, then know that you are being noticed. You are loved. You are LOVED!!

That is fairly mind-blowing stuff.