Tonight I am keeping my nephew for the first overnight. (If anything should cure the baby ache within me, it should be this.) I am going to have him the majority of the time from tonight through Monday. It should be a good distraction, in one way. However, as I am a creature of habit and routine, it may throw me off a little. Either way, I love that I have the time off where I can help care for him and spend time with my favorite little man.
Being done with the novel (at least for the moment), has made it where I either need to continue on the short ghost story I started last year or start the second installment. I don’t know how retired people do it if they don’t travel and such. I spent all day yesterday working on photos, cleaning the fish tank in the massage room (which I’ve been putting off for nearly a year), and getting random stuff done. If it weren’t for a massage, a photo session with a friend, and Gavin later, I’d already be going crazy. I don’t do well without a purpose, an end goal or result.
The issue that I requested prayer for yesterday and will explain, one way or another when the time is right, is testing me already. Testing my faith. Actually not so much my faith, but my fear of having faith. There have been several times now (ie, Grandma, relationship, etc) where I had faith—perfect, unshakeable faith. It wasn’t even an effort, it was easy to simply believe and trust God.
As I pray about this issue, for guidance, for mercy, I realize that I am terrified to believe, to trust. As if the very act of believing and trusting is a death sentence. As if the quickest way to have God turn his back is to believe that he will do something, that he will intervene. I can trust that he is there, that he cares, but it scares to me trust that he will intercede.
However, I am choosing to. Once again, I am choosing to believe that he will. I’m not putting it in that my faith is strong, that I deserve it, that I am entitled. Indeed, I am one of those who let the life raft float by and now cry out for rescue. I am trusting in His undeserved mercy. That’s it. I am choosing to put my faith and trust in his mercy. His love. I am sure at times that faith and trust with tremble. Even that I am praying for strength in. Despite my fear, I look forward, when the time comes, to sharing with you a story of God’s mercy and intervention.
Black Coffee Tables
2 years ago