Living Small

These days find us giggling whenever we find our darling kitty stuffing herself into her basket. When Charlotte first came to us, Dara-Grace made her a magic scarf-lined bed in this very basket. It was soft and roomy... and convenient for my animal-loving daughter to tote around with her wherever she went. During the training stages where we had to teach her what was acceptable or unacceptable, Charlotte would always run to the safety and comfort of her basket when she had gotten herself into a pickle.

Watching her grow, we have often lamented how sad it would be when the time came that she could no longer fit into her beloved basket. As she increased in size, we found it necessary to remove the fuzzy lining that took up so much precious space inside the basket. Surprisingly, Charlotte continued to return over and over again even minus the comfy padding.

Last month Dara-Grace made a new kitty bed by lining a box with a fleece throw. We were happy to discover that Charlotte didn't at all seem to mind the replacement. And so the basket was tucked away and forgotten until we came upon it during some recent cleaning projects. Seeing her basket sitting on the floor, Charlotte immediately hopped in. Or she at least tried to! She had grown and the once spacious basket could now barely contain her. I thought she'd abandon it and return to her new bed, but she didn't.

For two days now I have incredulously watched this cat squash herself into this tight place. Each time I think that she will not be able to fit, but she has somehow managed to do so. I wanted to snap this photo of her piled in her basket today to document what I think is one of the last days she'll be able to fit in there. I am amazed that she continues to go back to the cramped and bumpy conditions of her basket when she has plenty of room and plush bedding inside her new box. Afterall, she was liking the new bed just fine until she spied her old one once again. Why does it still seem so attractive to her when it is plain to all of us that she no longer fits?

Why would she do that? It doesn't make sense. And then it came to me: Why would you do that, Tamra? Because that's exactly what you do. Didn't you just read in the first chapter of your book study that some people intentionally make their lives small as a response to pain? That they can fearfully refuse to move on to what God has for them in life and choose, instead, to occupy a cramped but familiar place? So it might not be the most comfortable of places, but at least you know what you're dealing with... right? Haven't you been making your life small to give others less chance to hurt you? Haven't you looked for every excuse to avoid fellowship? This is not what I have for you. Trust me to lead you to the place that I have for you. I will not leave you on your own - I will be with you! It saddens me to see how you cling to what you deem "good enough" when I have so much more for you. Can't you see that you have outgrown your current surroundings? Can't you feel the roughness of this place that you have grown so comfortable with?

Ahhhh... I hear You, Lord. I hear You. Help me to trust You more. And let Psalm 18:19 be true in my life: "He brought me out into a spacious place; he rescued me because he delighted in me." In the beautiful name of Jesus I pray, Amen.

Following

While I love to keep my posts nature-related, an object of modern technology is what is prompting me to write this morning. I encountered this car shortly after merging onto the expressway on our way to church yesterday morning. While other cars zoomed by, this one stood out to me because it was moving at a steady, reasonable pace. Since the speedometer does not work on our car (and neither does the GPS that used to tell us how fast we were going), I decided that I could plant myself behind this car and follow it all the way down the highway. There is always a little fear that I will be unknowingly going too fast and get pulled over by the police. This, in my estimation, was a great safeguard.

Now don't get ahead of yourself and think about how I must have gotten pulled over by the police anyhow. Though that would make for an interesting blog post, that thankfully did not happen to me. It was quite simple actually. Driving along with my eyes on the car in front of me, just as I was coming to the end of my ten-mile jaunt, a thought came to me. With exit in sight, I began to feel dread wash over me. "What if," I thought, "that car doesn't have a speedometer either?" The phrase, "The blind leading the blind," popped into my head. And just now as I write this I think, "Didn't I used to pray that the Lord Himself would be my Speedometer, regulating my speed?"

Just think of it! Here I had thought I was being so wise. Yet, I was foolishly placing an inordinate amount of trust in something that really didn't make sense at all. And I'd thought I had it all covered! Isn't that how it always goes?

To be honest, I was quite stunned by this occurrence. How could this have happened to me, the one who doesn't even accept a sermon without making sure that it lines up with the Word of God? I am so careful! My plan had made such perfect sense to me, yet it was still not good enough in the end. Now I am wondering if I am doing this very same thing in other areas of my life. How else am I smugly thinking that I have all of the bases covered?

Lord, I still don't quite know what to do with this. I think that I must be falling short in this same way in other places. Open my eyes to really see where I am relying on myself rather than depending on You. Forgive me for all of the times that I've done this. Soften my heart to what You are doing in me through this experience. Help me to embrace the revelations that will deliver blows to my pride, no matter how jarring it may seem. I feel that You are not being quite as gentle in the way that You are speaking to me and sanctifying me these days. This is good! Thank You for that which You have entrusted me. Help me to make Your heart smile as I navigate these waters, fully trusting in You. In the strong and beautiful name of Jesus I pray, Amen.

When I Can't See

What a blessing to share the story behind this picture with my little Olympian girls last night! Many of you are already familiar with how I reacted to this harrowing experience, but the Lord has given me even more to share as He's uncovered some things in my heart. Perhaps you will be able to do what I asked my precious Olympians to do when they went to bed last night: offer up a prayer of thanksgiving. In their case, it was because He had protected their leader. However, for the rest of us, I'd suggest that we thank Him for how He grows us through the situations that we'd never bring upon ourselves.

This snowy drive was one of the worst of my life. In actuality, this picture can't begin to capture how little visibility we had at times. There were three or four excruciating moments when there was nothing to be glimpsed except swirling whiteness. It was at these times that my mind would run away from me. What if someone stops in front of us? Where, exactly, are we in the lane? What if we're too far to the left and hit a car? What if we're too far to the right and plunge off the bridge? What if we begin spinning? What will I do? What of our children at home? How can I make this stop????

I discovered something about myself during that trip. During the times when I fought the urge to roll down my window to escape or open my door and fling myself from the car. I learned that my desire to avoid the unknown and the pain that it may bring is a much bigger problem than I first supposed. Not surprisingly, I am realizing that it is connected to one of my biggest adversaries: Fear.

Of course, the fear that gripped me during this particular drive was not out of the ordinary. I am used to such things, as much as I aim to fight against them. What surprised me was the intense feelings that urged me to flee the situation. It was unlike anything I've ever experienced. Not wanting the teachable moment to stop with the safe ending of that fateful road trip, the Lord has used a situation at my church to further reveal some things to me.

The situation at my church. Just writing it makes me want to cry. And I feel like such a baby because of that! Nonetheless, I have been struggling with the "shedding off" of some of our attenders to another location that will be taking place in the fall. It shouldn't be such a big deal, but it has left me grieving deeply. Mostly for reasons that are just plain selfish.

I had been at our church for about a year and a half when the first news began trickling out. Unfortunately, I had just gotten to the point where I was actually getting to know people. I was feeling a bit less like a misfit and a bit more like I belonged. It takes me a very long time to let my guard down and now some of the very people I had let in would be leaving with what seemed like a piece of my heart. So painful!

To make matters worse, we had just gone through this at our old church when it had opened another campus. It had felt like all of our best people had gone, leaving holes that were never entirely filled. All of a sudden, our Body just seemed so... incomplete. There are always intentions to stay in touch, but I've found that it rarely happens. At least, that has been our experience.

And so, I have been bracing myself for the departures that will be happening. Wondering who will go. Hoping against hope that certain dear ones would not be leaving. Vacillating between feeling guilty about how I am handling it and wanting to joyfully send these people off to do a great work for the Lord... between sorrow and excitement... between hope for the future and despair that it will never feel so right again.

Such a tug of war began taking place in my mind and heart! I became so distressed and distracted that I actually pulled out of the church parking lot without one of my children not very long ago. I'd seen one of the families I hoped would be staying, which had caused my mind to become all jumbled. Alas, I learned last night that they will, in fact, be leaving. We laughed and cried a bit together, and I sent an e-mail after getting home to say how sorry I felt for getting emotional. The gracious and timely response I received reminded me all over again why I loved this family so much. And buried somewhere in the body of the return e-mail was something that made a lightbulb go off in my head.

I am guessing that the Holy Spirit gave her insight and nudged her to share about some instances in her own life. These words, in particular, seemed to make the scales fall from my eyes: "...there have been times when I have wanted to play it safe and not reach out and connect because of the fear of getting my heart broken. But I have learned that when I can love others with the deep love that God has loved me and can share in their lives, even if it is for a short time, my life is so much richer because of it." 

And there it was. The fear of getting my heart broken. That would explain my difficulty in warming up to people. Hadn't most of the people I'd loved been taken from me? I have come to realize that for a while now I have been using my supposed introverted tendencies to get me off the hook. As a child, my mom offered a, "She's shy," to anyone who attempted to engage me in conversation while I peered out from behind her legs. At forty years of age it seems like I've been behaving like a child hiding behind her mother's legs.  I've been taking the easy way out, and God doesn't call me to easy. He certainly didn't take the easy route Himself. And so it all comes back to what He's been telling me for the past three years: He wants me to be courageous! To live and love courageously without fear of the pain that I feel is inevitable.

I see it so clearly now - why these goodbyes are so hard for me. After carefully surrounding myself with the select few that I deem "safe" - it means that I will have to take those chances all over again. I will have to give up what I know and can see for the unknown and for what I cannot see. Each and every new person comes with the potential to "get" me or not. There is always the possibilty of rejection. Some will appear to be so outstanding in my estimation that I will have to fight against comparing myself. Some will rub me the wrong way. But just maybe (and this is by far worse) some will take up residence in my heart... only to leave when God calls them away. And that will bring the discomfort, the pain, that I have become so adept at avoiding.

God is once again challenging me to love courageously. He is showing me my need to lay myself - my wants, my fears - at His feet, to be used of Him for His purposes. He is asking me to love Him enough to trust Him with the plan He has for me even though I cannot see where He is taking me. There will be holes when these dear friends leave, but I can now see how He lovingly provided me an example in them. How good He is! He has reminded me how this family loved my family in very tangible ways and made us feel so very special. And now He is calling me to love others in the same way... without fear of acceptance or rejection... or the possible removal of them from my life. And it has to be wholeheartedly - nothing less.

I praise You, Lord, and lift up my heart to You. I tell You yet again that I trust You with my future and the plans You have for me. I accept Your great love for me. I say, "Yes," to the good plans that You have for me. The plans that will make me more like You and accomplish Your will here. I know that I am not home yet, but I sometimes try to build my own little Heaven here on earth. Forgive me for that. You never meant for Your child to live a life of comfort here - that will come when I am with You. Thank You for reminding me of that. Help me to live and love courageously for You. Bless our friends who are leaving with Your peace. Show Yourself mighty in their lives! Fill their hearts with Your love and meet whatever needs they may have. Lead them to the very people that You wish them to love on just like You did for us.

Your dearly loved daughter

Flowing Down

I sit here, eyes feasting on the beauty of this picture, remembering God's faithfulness in pursuing me and making me His. How thankful I am that He is not just content to bring me to salvation. He loves me (Me!) enough to transform me bit by sometimes painful bit. How patient He is with me!

You may be wondering how in the world I can get to those thoughts just from looking at this picture. I'm guessing that you know me enough to expect the explanation to follow. And you are right in thinking that!

I recently had the privilege of sharing a bit of my testimony at an Emmaus gathering. In order to help everyone better understand what makes me tick, I shared two incidents that have largely shaped my ability to receive love. The first being my father leaving and the second being my husband's admission in the early years of our marriage that "I just don't love you the way a man is supposed to love his wife." My father never told me that he didn't love me, but his actions spoke louder than his words to me. In my husband's case, unfortunately, the words have a way of playing over and over in your mind, never really leaving you. If my dad didn't love me enough to stay and my husband had enough guts to say what my dad hadn't, then I didn't seem to have a very good track record as far as being worthy of love. Throw in my other life experiences and a girl can start to believe that even God Himself wouldn't be interested in loving her.

So that's where I subconsciously lived for a very long time even after I came to faith in Christ. If I am honest, I have to admit that I still struggle with this on a daily basis. This feeling that I am something to be tossed aside. That hardships are proof of God's displeasure with me. That I am somehow missing something and will never get "IT," whatever that it may be. That I will inevitably be rejected by those that I allow to get close to me. . .

I shared on Saturday night that I have always known that God loved me in my head. Somehow, though, I could never really believe it in my heart. The people in my life had told me otherwise. It has taken many years for me to see that my heavenly Father and Husband are not like my earthly ones.

A friend approached me after my testimony and wanted to share a thought about believing God's love in your head, but not in your heart. It was really quite beautiful. Before I tell you what he said, though, I want you to take a second and refer back to the picture at the top of this page. Now think about that rushing water as I quote him... "It's a good thing that water always flows down. You've got the Living Water that flows down from your head and right into your heart." Let that sink in for a moment.

In my case, His mighty rushing waters flowed down from my head and brought a stirring up and cleansing of those stagnant places in my heart. He knows that without circulation, the healing will not come. I am not a health professional, but I know that in the cases of frostbite and foot binding, that the circulation, though necessary, is extremely painful. It brings life and healing which leads to believing. Really believing. Whenever I see a waterfall from now on I will think of Christ, the Living Water, and how He flowed down from my head and into my heart. What a blessing!

Will I sometimes be tempted to forget that? Probably. But there's hope for me because my God never gives up on me. He isn't finished with me. He will be faithful to complete that which He's begun in me.

Lord, I know that whenever You reveal something to me the enemy works hard to snatch it from me.  Strengthen me to resist the attacks when they come. Cause me to cling to You, remembering your goodness. When doubts begin to overwhelm my resolve to believe You, flood my heart with Your Living Water. Stir up those ugly things that have sunk to the deepest recesses of my heart and move them out. Glorify Yourself through my life. In the strong name of Jesus I pray, Amen.

A Stone, Lord?

This past weekend, instead of going to church with the rest of family, I stayed home with a sick child. I suddenly found myself with something that I can scarcely recognize these days: a quiet home. A quiet home!!! It was a true blessing to be able to dawdle during my quiet time with nothing to distract me.

As I luxuriated in this time, I paused periodically to pray for anyone that the Lord brought to mind. It was during one of these pauses that He laid someone on my heart whose one month old daughter was just diagnosed with a heart condition. Already having a young son who has had to undergo open heart surgery to correct a hole, she was greatly alarmed when the doctors did not like the sounds that they heard when listening to her daughter's heart. Terror had gripped her, and she had prayed for good news. That the sounds would not end up being a hole. Unbelievably, the specialists ended up finding that the baby's heart had not only one, but two holes. She was due to see the specialists again the very next morning for another examination and to be given a prognosis. Sensing that I should pray at that moment, I obeyed without hesitation. As I prayed over the situation, I heard the Lord whisper the words of Matthew 7:9 to me: "Which of you, if his son asks for bread, will give him a stone?"

I thought of this precious mother praying that her child would not have a hole in her heart. I remembered the devastating findings. My heart ached for this child of God who asked her Father for bread, but got what seemed like a stone instead. I was able to send an e-mail to her and share about the special time of prayer for her and the baby. I told her how sorry I was for her that it must seem like she got a stone instead of the bread she prayed for. I reminded her that if we, in our fallen state, want to do good for our children, how much more does the Lord. I encouraged her to cling to the hope that we have in Christ and to remember that His grace will always be sufficient for us.

As it turns out, it was a God moment. The e-mail was very needed at that particular time. As I reflect on this situation I am struck with a realization. I had been praying for my son's recovery and hadn't received it in a timely manner. Being forced to stay home with him had given me the time I needed to hear God and communicate with this mother. Had my son improved enough for us to all attend church that day, I would have missed the double blessing that resulted. It always feels so rewarding to see the outcome of something that you obeyed the Lord in. Conversely, it always feels so horrible to have that feeling niggling at you that you have not obeyed! I have found that if I do not obey with relative immediacy, the enemy is very skillful at causing me to second guess. I am so glad that did not happen in this case.

This instance has me pondering the times in my life when it has felt like I have received a stone instead of bread from my Father. It can be hard to see it the way the Lord does. I know that my thoughts are not like His thoughts. My eyes see something that I did not want, but maturity has helped me to see that it must be God's love gift to me. He only allows things to slip through His fingers into my life if He intends to use it for good somehow. He cares much less about my comfort than He does about my relationship with Him. And the truth of the matter is that we tend to forget Him when things are going our way. Oftentimes, the "stones" that we receive are the very things that draw us closer to the One who made us to know Him and love Him. He knows what we don't always know: whether the bread that we pray for will bring us closer to Him or pull us further away from Him. And He acts accordingly... always in love. How thankful I am for that!

I encourage you to take in the picture I have included. If you look carefully you will be able to make out that a flower has been drawn on the rock, probably with a Sharpie marker. The girls and I found it in the river on one of our hikes. I don't know who made it like that or how it ended up in the water for us to see that day. But, when I look at it today, it helps me to see God's mercy. It reminds me that the adversity I often experience has a way of causing me to blossom under His loving care. Though He hands me a stone from time to time, it is meant to be a beautiful thing.


Father, thank You for all of your good gifts. Sometimes they are the bread I pray for and other times they seem to me like stones. Yet, they are all your love gifts to me. I am grateful that You are so patient with me and that You delight in speaking to me the way You do. I pray that I will always have ears to hear what You say to me. Help me to always be quick to obey You before the enemy brings doubt and steals the work You have for me. Be glorified in me, please! In the strong name of Jesus I pray, Amen.

Think About Such Things

This week was all about the vine in my devotional time. It all began to unfurl one morning while reading in Ezekiel 15 where Jerusalem is likened to a useless vine. For whatever reason, this particular thought captivated me. Up to that point the mention of a vine had always taken my mind to Christ's words in the fifteenth chapter of John: "I am the vine; you are the branches. If a man remains in me and I in him, he will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing."

Ezekiel talks about how wood from trees can be made into useful things, but vines are only used to fuel fires. I remembered seeing these relatively large-sized vines on my hikes at Munroe Falls earlier this year. Though quite large (for vines), it is true that they can't be used as effectively as wood from a tree. I thought of the huge quantity of dried morning glory vines that I had used for bonfire kindling. I mentally concurred that vines would probably be perfect to get a fire started or keep it burning.

That word, useless, kept speaking to my heart. I thought of the useless things in my own life: the fear, doubt, grumbling, impatience, reluctance to accept love. None of these things bring about what God desires in me. All of these things must go if I am to be more like Him. My thoughts jumped back to the useless vines fueling fires and I wondered if God might take my useless things and use them to fuel the fires with which He refines me.

Fast forward a few days to Thanksgiving. I had asked my prayer partner to pray specifically for this week as the holidays are difficult for me. I had happily made it through the day before relatively unscathed. Even with a sick child and a stressful cake baking episode, I had only spoken irritably one time. I had been able to check myself nearly immediately and enjoyed the victorious feeling. But then Thanksgiving.

I had done so many things ahead of time to ensure that I would have a better chance at coping with everything on the actual day. Unfortunately, things (and people) happen. Early in the day I began taking all of the serving dishes and pans out that I would be using. I organized my thoughts on paper and got some foods cooking. All went well for a few hours until it was time to prepare the turkey.

The turkey. The turkey that my Facebook friends had helped me find a great deal on. The turkey that I had begun thawing several days too early just to make sure that it would be ready. The turkey that I had checked nearly every day to guage its thawing progress. The turkey that I had neglected to check one last time before bed on Thanksgiving eve. Had I checked it, perhaps I would have noticed that my husband, for whatever reason, and after putting up with a lowered refrigerator temperature all week long, had decided to significantly raise the temperature setting. The night before.

The appointed time for me to begin on the turkey arrived. John lifted it out of the fridge for me and said, "Hmmm. This is a lot harder than I remember it being." Rock hard, to be exact. I felt my flesh rising and had to bite back tears. I began soaking the bird in cold water. I had heard about salt in the water helping to quicken the thaw when in a pinch so I liberally sprinkled some into the water and on the turkey itself. In order to keep myself walking somewhat victoriously, I decided to go to my bedroom for quiet time with the Lord. The plan was to give the turkey an hour, after which time I would check its progress and be on my way. The hour flew by. Unfortunately, the turkey bath water slowly leaked down the drain and it didn't soak the way I thought it would.

John got online to see what could be done with a pretty solid turkey and assured me that we could cook it that way since we were putting it into an oven bag. I explained that we couldn't do that because there were bags of the turkey's organs frozen somewhere inside. I had yet to get it thawed enough to even find them, let alone pull them out. Because the whole ordeal was his fault, John determined that he would get them out so that we could cook it as usual. I asked him to just let it set for a while and told him that we just wouldn't eat turkey that day if it came down to it. This, however, was an impossiblity in his mind. He would not be deterred. He battled with the turkey, slamming it around in the sink and making all kinds of noise in the kitchen. I went in shortly thereafter to find that he had, in fact, found a way to remove the bags of organs. He also managed to break the skin open in several places and pull one of the drumsticks out of socket so that it hung limply.

I looked at the pathetic turkey, a big misshapen heap laying on the cookie sheet, and began to cry. Something about it forced me to come face to face with a misbelief that I battle with. The enemy's voice began playing in my mind: "Just look at that turkey. It is pitiful and broken.... just like you." I knew it was a lie, but I was feeling sorry for myself and allowed it to stick a bit more than it should have. I thought of how I can't seem to get with it no matter how hard I try. How everything seems to be a struggle for me. How I am such an incapable homemaker. How I don't deserve to be loved. Thankfully, I was able to shake the thoughts from my mind relatively quickly. "No, I am dearly loved and redeemed. God has special plans for me. I am not pitiful and broken." I reminded myself of the verse that the Lord had given me during my quiet time when I had asked Him to help me be thankful that very day:

"Whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable - if anything is excellent or praiseworthy - think about such things" (Philippians 4:8).

I began to take my thoughts captive and refute the lies of the enemy. The day was saved. Though I remained quiet for much of Thanksgiving, I was able to side-step what could have been much worse. In deciding to share my experience, I remembered this picture taken in the spring. At the time, it had spoken to me because of the circular shape of the vine. A circle. The shape of completion. It had reminded me of God's never ending love. As I look at the picture now, I comprehend the truth of that more fully. God, in His infinite love, has promised that He will complete the work He has begun in me. That means that He will faithfully continue to purge my life of the useless things in it that keep me from becoming more like Him. He can use these very things to show me how much I need Him. And He, in his goodness, will help me overcome. He is is worthy to be praised!

Thank you, Lord, that you never give up on me. Though I can scarcely believe it, you see so much more in me than I do. You delight in transforming hearts and lives, mightily using those which the world considers weak. Help me to more quickly refute the lies of the evil one and victoriously walk the path you have for me. Psalm 18:35 says, "You give me your shield of victory, and your right hand sustains me; you stoop down to make me great." Your Word is precious and alive! My heart overflows with thanksgiving for all You have done and all You will do. In the loving name of Jesus I pray, Amen.

Haste the Day

I have an unmistakable leading about this particular picture, which was taken on a recent hike of the Springfield Bog. One of the newer Metro Park trails, it holds something delightful in every season. Sure, the other parks, do too, ... in a different kind of way. Prairie-like in its makeup, the wide open nature of its composition just feels markedly unique. We have enjoyed watching it from its infancy, rushing out to hike it on January 5, 2011, the very first day that it opened to the public. It has been interesting to observe its metamorphosis over the months.

From day one, there was talk in the Metro Parks publications that a man-made bog had been tucked away somewhere in the center of the property. Curious as I was, I could never quite catch a glimpse of it. I was aware of the general area that it must be located, but I just had to take their word for it. I guess that I had enough of the legalist left in me to prevent me from departing from the marked path and blazing a trail through the overgrown vegetation in search of the bog. So I waited... and wondered... and hoped for the chance to eventually see it.

Much to my delight, on our last visit, a wide swath of grass opened up from the side of the trail. Veering off the path, and gently sloping downward, it led in the general direction that I believed the bog to be in. Seizing the opportunity to finally investigate, we followed the new-found path a short jaunt away. Momentarily, we came upon what I had been waiting for. It was towards sunset and I was not disappointed by the beauteous sight that awaited us. There it was! I had known it was there, pretty much by faith, and it boosted my spirits to be able to see it.

So many things come to mind when I think of the spiritual parallels of this experience. I am reminded that God calls me to live by faith and not by sight (2 Corinthians 5:7). Especially in the area of God's promises, I need to remember that what He says is true even when I don't see it. Just as I had hope that my eyes would one day see the bog in this picture, I can hope in the fulfillment of what is presently unseen, but true nonetheless. For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face; now I know in part but then I will know fully just as I also have been fully known (1 Corinthians 13:12). One day I will see! Oh, how the thought thrills me. No more wondering, waiting, doubting, or fearing. I will know.

In closing, I echo the words of Horatio Gates Spafford: "And Lord haste the day when my faith shall be as sight..."

I love You, Lord. I am so grateful for your presence. Thank You for this tremendous mental image of walking by faith. Forgive me for the times when my faith has wobbled due to my inability to see. I pray that You will enable me to be counted among those You call blessed because they have not seen and yet believe. I believe, Lord, help my unbelief! Thank You for the promise that I will one day see.
In the precious name of Jesus, Amen.