Friday morning was wrought not with fear, but I admit the uncertainty of what I faced was disconcerting. I called forth my prayer warrior friends for the ensuing battle and waited for the hour to come when I would figuratively stand before my inquisitors.
Steadily I worked as the clock ticked on awaking the hour. When the time came, and the call was made, I was surprisingly calm, confident, and reserved. I was told I did well, and I was commended for my compassion, understanding of issues/situations, and my tenacity in remaining on top of things. Not in those words of course, but a very nice comment was made on my behalf and in my support.
God asks me to trust Him, and I say I do. It seems as if I do, but in thinking back over the past year, 3 months and six days I really haven't trusted Him as I thought. When we place our trust in someone, we leave it there. Then we quietly go our way not concerned about what may happen, because we have someone who promised to take care of the matter or be there in our place. How much more should we trust our Father? Jesus who bore our sins so we could live? I purpose to trust Him more, as I have realized a side of myself I did not see or understand over the last four weeks. I thank Him over and over again for carrying me and delivering me through this trial, and although I realize that there will be more such roads to tread, I endeavor to trust my Father who holds me...and you...in the palm of His hand.
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