Trust

As he is so often known to do - my guardian angel whispered in my ear last night.

"Psst," he said.

"Oh. It's you," I thought. "Shh.. I'm busy."

"Busy? You're sitting on the kitchen floor feeling sorry for yourself," he answered.

"Yes. I'm busy sitting on the kitchen floor feeling sorry for myself. Shoo!" I thought.

In an instant I was left with my own thoughts again. "That was easy," I mused. Too easy. I felt a little guilty about my lack of activity and got up to straighten the kitchen before bed. I grabbed a stack of papers on the counter and began sorting them to get them ready for shoving them out of sight when a single scrap of paper fluttered to the floor. As I leaned down to pick it up I could clearly see what it was. A torn scrap of paper about the size of a gum-wrapper. Scrawled with crayon in one of my children's handwriting on the side that had landed up was one word:

"PRAY."

"Okay, so you got me again," I muttered aloud. And then I followed his advice.

I woke up this morning feeling quite different than I had yesterday. This morning I remember that we are alive and well today by the grace of God alone. I had once again forgotten to put my hope, faith, and trust in Him -- not the MDA or some congressional committee. I am reminded that whatever we manage to do with our home - and only with God's help - is something we should be thankful for. We've been given so much... we have come so far... If it all stopped today it would still be a miracle. I must face the fact that I was feeling envious of those who might receive more financial assistance than our family. For that I am truly sorry.

I do not regret my comments to the MDA yesterday. I simply regret some of the motivation behind them.

I am happy to say that this morning everything is once again out of my hands.

"I know God will not give me anything I can't handle. I just wish that He didn't trust me so much." -- Mother Teresa of Calcutta