The Ultimate Test of Character

character
informal: an odd, eccentric, or unusual person: he's quite a character.

Dad was a character, in the best sense of the word, of course. He wasn't really odd or eccentric, but he was quite a character. He loved to make people laugh and usually did not take himself to seriously. He had a fun, and very sarcastic, sense of humor. To hear him laugh again...

I remember a time when my Grandfather, who was definitely a character, got my Dad laughing so hard he was on the floor gasping for breath. His dad could do that to him, and my Dad could do that to me.

Dad was a bit quirky. He had a bunch of silly songs and funny sayings, ie. "Spam gravy ain't wavy" and the Dirty Bill song (ask me about it, I would be happy to sing it for you). He never liked to say things the right way either. This has caused some grief in my life as at the age of 37 I still say 'aminals' instead of 'animals'. And who sings the Mickey Mouse song spelling it m-i-k-c-e-y- m-o-s-o-e? That would be my Dad, he sure kept things interesting.

character
a person represented in a play, film, story, etc; role

Dad liked to play characters. He did some local amateur theater and always had roles in the church plays. He had an outstanding voice, deep and clear. One of his most memorable roles was in the play Pilgrims Progress. He played all the characters Christian ran into on the path to the city Beautiful. He was a cool giant!

Theater was fun for him, a hobby he never grew out of. As us girls got into theater in high-school, Dad joined right along. He built sets, ran the fly and cheered us on. He was the cool dad too, everyone loved him. He was like a kid himself and made us feel so loved spending time with us.

character
the combination of traits and qualities distinguishing the individual nature of a person or thing.

They say a person's true character comes out during the trials they face. Dad had character.

He was always loving, giving and hard working, but just in an average sort of way. The way of all of us sinners, sometimes good, and sometimes not so much. However, when Dad received his cancer diagnosis, his real character came out. To live well is a great accomplishment, to die well is an amazing blessing from God. God's character became reflected in my Dad.

Dad live his last year with purpose. When he was faced with a time limit on his life, he worked with diligence to accomplish the things he knew God had given him to do. He made sure Mom was taken care of, from the house and cars, to finances and support. List after list...he knew what had to be done. His character helped him have character. His ability to find humor in life, allowed him to find it in death also. This shocked some people, but those who knew him well, knew it was his character to laugh.

He died with contentment, with the thoughts of Job, should we accept good from the Lord and not bad? He never openly questioned why he had cancer, he never openly pitied himself. He just set his eyes on the prize of heaven and pressed on. He loved deeper, made every moment count, laughed more, hugged more, cared more. He showed no fear, only patience and purpose, sure of his salvation in Christ Jesus.

Dad's life was a beautiful picture of the changing power of the Holy Spirit, Dad's dying was an even more beautiful picture of the power of the Holy Spirit living inside him.

Romans 5:1-5 (personalized)
Therefore, since Steve has been justified through faith, he has peace with God through the Lord Jesus Christ, through whom he has gained access by faith into this grace in which Steve now stands. And he boasts in the hope of the glory of God. Not only so, but he also glories in his sufferings, because he knows that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us, because God's love has been poured out into Steve's heart through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us. 

How to have character? Have hope...

Only Jesus living inside us can give us the hope, and the character, to live well and die well.

Broken Hearts

It's the middle of the night. Dad is quiet, sedated into a peaceful sleep. I am keeping watch, a vigil in the night, trying to keep my soul alert for my Savior. I spent time reading to him, first from a book of poems he read to me many times as a child. When I was sick or sad, out would come The Bumper Book, a special bond between me and Dad. So I read our favorites, trying to bring to him the comfort those words always brought to me. Then I read the Words that give life to the soul. The Psalms, promises of the almighty. Our ultimate comfort can only come from the living God of comfort. I am feeling so small, so helpless, so different from the other side of the bed I am usually on. Being the nurse is so much easier than being the daughter. And letting God be God, is harder than anything. Realizing that although we have decisions to make, we are not really in control. My soul is trying to hold to the amazing freedom in that. My heart is tearing away, ripping in the most painful way, from the heart of my earthly father. But in the still of the night, the Savior whispers to my heart... "Though your heart and your flesh may fail Andrea, I am the strength of your heart and your portion forever." -Psalm 73:26, personalized So I will rest and be still and open. And the Savior will save...

Questions in the Night

It is late, late in the evening and late in a life. I sit here by my dad's hospital bed, someplace I never thought I would be again. The tears come in waves. The thoughts, prayers and Bible verses come and go, haltingly, as I grasp for some comfort, some hope. It wasn't supposed to be like this, and we had talked about it. We knew about the cancer, we talked about hospice, but not about this. Not about a sudden panic, a red face, doctors, ambulances, CPR...the nightmare. I sit here, as a nurse, and know too much. And yet, as a daughter, I don't know enough. I stroke his head, kiss his brow, tell him that I am sorry, tell him it wasn't supposed to be like this. When he wakes, if he wakes, will he forgive me? He never wanted this, not this way.

A year of purposeful contentment

A word for the year, a new year, perhaps a year where I turn a bit more intentional about life.

I try to take in the lessons God gives me from so many places. The Word, a note, a sermon, a friend, even my children. All these things to focus on, to work on in my life. Isn't that what it is all about, becoming more like Christ? But then life happens, it just happens. Even if I just sit there and try to think about something God is teaching me, life is still happening all around me. It won't stop for me, I'll just loose more time to do it...whatever it is.

How am I to plan this then? Can you plan the movement of the Spirit in your soul? Can the lesson wait until I have time to think on it? Not when the children are calling and laundry is piling and dust is settling in (and growing). Not when the sacred moments are so often the unplanned moments, a smile, a comment, a thought like a breeze, a glimps of real life.

I wrestle with contentment in these things. If I had more time to teach them, to hold him, to clean that or fix this; to fix me. If I didn't have to work, if we could have learned to live on less, make a different choice, have a different dream...dismiss a calling. Oh, God sighs at my wrestling sometimes...

This is what the Sovereign LORD, the Holy One of Israel, says: “In repentance and rest is your salvation, in quietness and trust is your strength, but you would have none of it.
Isaiah 30:14-16

Salvation through rest? Growing closer to God while being quiet? Contentment in where I am, trust for where I am going...

"Contentment isn't a state of organization, a weight on the scale, a state of better: better kids, better marriage, better health, better house. Contentment is never a matter of circumstances; contentment is always a state of communion — a daily embracing of God. A thankfulness for all the gifts – and moments and life, just as He gives it. Trying harder may only bring harder trials and contentment, it won’t be be found in the resolutions, but in the revolutions – in the turning round to God." -Ann Voskamp

Trying harder may only bring harder trials...

So the year is purposeful contentment, purposeful rest, purposeful quietness. It may be that God will work out in me what is best for me, when I quit trying to grasp a fleeting moment of inspiration and just love the feel of it across my soul.

My Heroes

Heroes are a big deal these days. Everyone wants to be one, or to have one at least. We ask our children who their heroes are, who they want to be like when they grow up.

I have thought, in the past, who is a hero to me? I admit that there have been times when a person of fame or position has caught my attention.

The problem I see is that we have lost the true meaning of what it is to be a hero. And with that we have set our sites, and our children's, on things that just don't matter, on qualities that are more like passing fancies than character building.

he·ro

   [heer-oh]

noun, plural -roes; for 5 also -ros.

1.

a man of distinguished courage or ability, admired for his brave deeds and noble qualities.

I have new heroes lately. Men of courage, brave mighty men.

They face uncertain futures, suffering, grief, loss, injustice, pain and disappointment with an attitude of thanksgiving, acceptance.

One more surgery, one more chemo. One more day of nausea and one more sleepless night. One more missed game, more laughter and stares from other children.

They have no understanding of why they suffer and they no know secret to the mysteries of life. They are the very young, and the very wise.

Somehow, I see that they walk a little closer to God than I do though. Maybe because they have too, or maybe they just know that is the best place to be.

They keep moving, keep believing, keep breathing. He is just learning about life and not letting the pain color his opinions. He is choosing to really live, even while slowly dying. They are submitting to a plan, not of their own choosing, but of faith in their Father.

Maybe that is a real hero; someone who submits to the plan of their Father. A heavenly Father who is more certain, more just, more glorious, more courageous and more noble than any of us.

"How great is the love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God! And that is what we are! Dear friends, now we are children of God, and what we will be has not yet been made known. But we know that when he appears, we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is." 1 John 3:1-2

How Beautiful

Feet are not usually considered a beautiful thing in any culture. However, following in the footsteps of someone wise and wonderful is always a good thing. As my children get to know their grandparents more, I pray they would follow in their footsteps. That they would learn from them to love the Lord, to be generous, to laugh, to be loyal, to pray hard and work hard. To love family more than self, to share the gospel in actions and words wherever they go.

"How beautiful on the mountains are the feet of those who bring good news, who proclaim peace, who bring good tidings, who proclaim salvation, who say to Zion, 'Our God reigns!'" Isaiah 52:7

Time

"When will I be 9 Mama?" Hannah asks. "I can't wait any longer!"

Life is fast these days. We talk about how fast the months and years go by, how fast the kids grow. We like life fast; fast food, fast Internet, fast service-no waiting. We want everything now.

I can be a lot like that. I want tomorrow so I can do this or that, I want the kids to go through one phase or another. I fly through my days not even realizing what I did, what I ate, what I thought, how I lived.

Little faces of my beloved children ask how much longer-to the restaurant, to the park, to their next birthday. Heavy sighs come, to long, can't wait any longer!

Looking back, some things came slowly. A little longer nap, a little less food, a few shallow breaths. Why so slow that we didn't notice?

Why are we so caught in the rush of life that we don't see the creeping of death?

Time goes to fast, and it needs to slow down. We don't know how much time we have left with him, a month, a year, a day? It won't be enough time. I am trying to stop ticking off the days in an endless blur of movement. How do I stop the moments to make them lasting memories? I focus on making the pictures of real life stay in my head.

Life has seasons, times, changes.

There is a time for everything, a season for every activity under heaven: a time to be born and a time to die, a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance.


How do I learn to laugh and dance in a season of mourning? If I slow down, will I see the moments, the miracles in the flying of time? I need to catch the real living in the time of dying, the gradual decline. To really see the last things, the first times, the sweetness of love and laughter.

To savor the sacred moments of life.

God fills every day with holy, sacred moments. These are the real living, the things that will last through the declining.

Take My Hand

When I was a little girl, I would hold my Dad's hand for a lot of reasons. I would hold it when I was scared, when I was happy, so I wouldn't get lost and wander away. Sometimes Dad took my hand when he was mad at me to pull me in line and sometimes he would take it to show me something of great wonder. He would hold it to comfort me when I was sick or very sad. When Dad took my hand, I could relax, I could trust. There was power in his hand and a reassurance of love.

I like to watch my children hold my Dad's hand. I love to watch as he teaches them and leads them. I love to see the way they look up to him, most likely in the same way I looked at him when I was a child; complete trust. I love to see them hold their father's hand. They know who will protect and love them.

As I have grown, the reason I hold my Dad's hand has changed. Mostly I hold it when we are looking in wonder at his grandchildren. We hold hands when we pray and lately, we have held hands to comfort each other.

It amazes me how the life cycle seems to go. How parents become children again and children become the parents. How we comfort those who once comforted us, how we sit at bedsides praying through an illness much like my parents knelt at my bedside and prayed for me. Now my Dad looks to me for comfort and reassurance, now I feel the need to protect him.

As my hands become stronger, his hands are growing weaker.

The blessing in all of this is that long ago, both my Dad and I placed our hands into someone's hands that are far stronger and far more loving. We placed them in our Father God's hands. He is the ultimate father, the ultimate lover and protector. His word tells of this:

When my heart was grieved
and my spirit embittered...
you hold me by my right hand.

You guide me with your counsel,
and afterward you will take me into glory.
Whom have I in heaven but you?
And earth has nothing I desire besides you.
My flesh and my heart may fail,
but God is the strength of my heart
and my portion forever.

-Psalm 73:21, 23b-26

As we grow weaker, He grows ever stronger.

Learning to Breath Again

I stopped breathing today. At least it stopped being easy. Each breath feels like a rendering of my chest in two. My world stopped today. In one instant everything collapsed in my head. I would not have been surprised if I had walked outside and no one was moving about. Stores should have been closed, events cancelled, talking ceased.

And yet, everyone else seemed to keep moving, keep breathing. My kids kept talking and asking and wanting. The dishes were still dirty, the laundry still piled, the phone still ringing. Didn't anyone realize that it was over, that I couldn't breath, that I was drowning?

It is horribly and astonishingly clear that ones own person tragedy is just that, ones own. Life for everyone goes on, even my life is moving. In my mind it has all ceased, everything looks, feels, sounds, tastes different. Yet everyone else is still moving, breathing....

I cry out to God. His world stopped once. When his Son suffered on that tree, spilled his blood for me. God even stopped the sun from shining when his tragedy occurred. Why couldn't I stop something for even a breath, a breath I couldn't even draw. Even the tears won't stop.

Teach me Lord God to breath, in and out. Fill me with your breath, I can't do it, can't find it, no strength...in and out...

1,000 Gifts

My sister, literally a world away, sent me a wonderful book at Christmas. It is called One Thousand Gifts, by A. Voskamp. I picked it up a few days ago when I was feeling as if God hadn't given me any gifts lately. Within the first few pages I realized how truly wrong I was, and just how much ingratitude was affecting my outlook on life.

It has been a difficult season for us. God has filled us with an overwhelming desire to raise more children, to save them from a worse fate. But door after door has closed in our desire to do this. We are now walking down a different path, still to this desire and we need a big miracle. Just now, when in doubt of any miracles, this book became a beacon for me. One statement...

"thanksgiving precedes the miracle"

Think of the life of Jesus, his greatest works and miracles. Read the stories. Thanksgiving precedes the miracle. Before calling Lazarus from the dead, Jesus thanks his Father. Before feeding the multitudes, He thanks his Father. Before his last supper, his darkest hour, He thanks his Father.

How many miracles have I missed in my life because I am ungrateful? How have I miss living my life to the fullest of God's presence in me, because I am ungrateful? I truly have over a thousand things to be grateful for. During this time, this season of sacrifice and hope, I need to be thankful so I do not miss the miracle.

Giving Thanks

My Footprints

Someday I’ll jump through puddles,
take a stroll or run a race.
Someday I’ll walk across the street
or maybe walk in space.
Someday I’ll scale a mountain
or I’ll join a ballet corps.
Someday I’ll walk a tightrope
or explore the ocean floor.
Someday these feet will do some things
that only heaven knows,
but for today they’re happy
just to wiggle all their toes.


Luke's feet, September 2010

Lessons From My Son

Since birth, my son Luke has had a quiet determination about him. He is good at pressing on, adapting, staying the course. He has perseverance. He had surgery this week and I have learned some important lessons from him.

Trust. Throughout the surgery and his painful recovery, Luke has never asked why. I think the reason is because he is only 3. At that age kids tend to trust what their parents say has to happen. Naturally, children that do not grow up in a stable environment have trouble with this. However, because Luke has always had 2 loving parents that have met all his needs, he feels no need to questions his circumstances. Our love has proved trustworthy to him. As I thought on this I wondered to myself why I sometimes have such a hard time trusting God. Hasn't He proved so much more trustworthy than anything? Has He ever failed me? Never! I don't understand all the things that happen in my life anymore than Luke, at age 3, understands why he needed surgery, and yet Luke trusts. Where is my trust when things don't go as I think they should?

Purpose in pain. Part of Luke's recovery involves medication to his ears that is very painful to him. Although his father and I know that the benefits of the medication outweigh the temporary pain, Luke does not know or understand that. He just knows that he is suffering. As I was praying for Luke last night, that he might understand why we have to cause some pain for his good, it hit me. How many times has God caused or allowed pain in my life for my good? Does He ever sit in heaven and say what I said to Luke, that it is really better to have pain for a moment than stay as you are for a lifetime? Just as I love Luke to much to refuse him the medication, God loves me enough to put me through the fire to refine me. God knows that there is purpose in the pain.

Rest in loving arms. Luke could refuse to be held after I give him painful medication but he understands something, I love him even though I am causing pain. He allows me to hold and rock him because he knows from experience that I love him and will comfort him. How often has God tried to comfort me in my sorrows, through His word, or friends, or a song and I have turned Him away? How foolish of me. There is a time to rest and God always provides it.

My faith is a lot smaller than Luke's even though he is a lot smaller than I. I could learn a lot from him and I pray I do. Lately I have struggled with my own pain and suffering. I have questioned and refused comfort. God still holds me though, He never waivers in His giving of rest, care or love. To quote an old Hymn that keeps coming to mind...

"A wonderful Savior is Jesus my Lord. He taketh my burden away. He holdeth me up, and I shall not be moved. He giveth me strength by the day. He hideth my soul in the cleft of the rock that shadows a dry, thirsty land. He hideth my life, in the depths of His love, and covers me there with His hand, and covers me there with His hand."

A diagnosis is not a definition...

Receiving a diagnosis for a chronic condition is an interesting thing. I have always been on the giving or supporting end of this, not the receiving end. I have a new appreciation for what some of my patients go through.

This week I was told I have fibromyalgia. It is good to have an explanation for how miserable I have been feeling, however it is not really what I wanted to hear. I wanted something far less permanent. I am still processing it all and find myself thinking about it way to much. There was the shock and then the grief and now the beginning of acceptance mixed with defeat. It is hard not just giving into this. I understand now why some people sink into great depressions and give up when faced with serious health issues. There is a large part of me that wants to lay down in my bed and not get up for a good long while. I guess this is the poor me part of the deal. I need to remember that this diagnosis is not a definition of who I am. It is something my body is experiencing. It can't control or define my life, unless I let it.

Spiritually I am accepting things well. I know that God was not surprised by this. I also know that God doesn't want this for my life. I believe that God wants only good for His children. However, part of living in a sinful world is getting sick. There is a verse however that has come to mind and brings hope. Even though God really wants his children to not suffer, He uses our time on this earth in a refining way.

"And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose."
Romans 8:27-29

Reading the whole of Romans 8 is very encouraging. This world may throw a big curve ball at me however,

"If God is for us, who can be against us?"
Romans 8:31b

Amen and Amen!

Mama's got a new car

Introducing my new car, Max. I have waited 12 years for a new car and I am very excited.

Hope Deferred

"Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a longing fulfilled is a tree of life." -Proverbs 13:12

Waiting for heaven and a reunion there with my Savior, family and friends is for me a hope deferred. I have the hope, I could not survive without it, but the deferred part at times makes my heart sick. Right now is one of those times. The world makes me weary at times. Troubles, expectations, guilt, fear, accusations, illness and so on wear me down. Heaven calls to me, the King of heaven hears my pleas. He knows my name, he loves me and has promised to be with me until I do get to heaven.

What a day that will be, when my savior I shall see. What a day, glorious day, that will be!

Until then, a hope deferred is mine...

Friendship

God has blessed me with many friends over the years. Some have lasted for days, others years. Some friends, even though life events have made keeping in contact impossible, will last a lifetime. I am glad that true friendship lives in the heart. So in tribute to past and present friends who have touched me deeply, here are the qualities and blessing my friends have given me over the years, I pray to be as good a friend to all;

-Peace
-Love
-Joy
-Laughter
-Humility
-Faithfulness
-Kindness
-Patience
-Fun
-Honesty
-Encouragement
-Tears of joy and sadness, which both have their place
-Constructive criticism
-Precious memories
-Life
-Smiles
-Hugs
-Dependence on God
-Praise
-Self-esteem
-Thoughtfulness
-Strength
-Prayers

Of course my ultimate friend is Jesus. The Bible tells me that there is no greater love than a friend that would give his life for another. Jesus did that, not only for me but for the whole world. Jesus' friendship to me is everything listed above and so much more. He is my rock and my redeemer.

"How great the Father's love for us, how vast beyond all measure. That He would give His only son, to make a wretch His treasure."

Stumbling

A situation arose today that caused me to take a look at a verse that I had thought little of before.
"So whether you eat or drink or whatever you do, do it all for the glory of God. Do not cause anyone to stumble, whether Jews, Greeks or the church of God-" -1 Cor. 10:31-32

The first verse I have heard and thought of many times, the second part, not as much. Today I became aware of a situation in which I was causing someone to stumble. I do not know this person, and probably never will. However, that makes my actions, although completely unintentional, no less sinful. My heart is heavy in knowing that I so innocently cause such grief for a fellow sister in Christ. It matters not that I didn't wish this on her, it matters that I have cause great trouble in her soul. I wish to apologize, but never will be able to, she wouldn't accept it at this point anyway. So I cry out to God for forgiveness of my sin. I pray He will erase the damage I have caused. I pray I will be more mindful in the future of the affects my actions have not only on the people I know, but the ones around me that I don't.

In the same situation and yet on a somewhat different note (it's complicated), sin, even when left behind, still causes trouble years down the road. Choices made by this sister in Christ, only 3 or so years before, have caused deep insecurities and jealousy. I know first hand how sin, even when ended and forgiven, can have lasting affects on one's personality and relationships. Whether one sin or many, done in haste and selfishness (isn't all sin selfishness) can create lifetime ripples and affect people we don't even know. So this sister and I have unknowingly sinned against each other. However, I am so glad that through our mutual God, we will have forgiveness and spend eternity together worshipping our Lord. We shall see it clearly then, and only then.

Until then, I will have to move on, through a profound grief and sadness, ladened with many tears, to learn what God will have me learn. I must become more sensitive to His voice, His direction in my life. I must honor Him above all things, above all of my desires.

Thoughts of Mine

I haven't written much lately. So much of life seems routine and ordinary, nothing note worthy in my perspective. I guess that in light of the situations in this country, having nothing to write about is a blessing. Calm waters are a beautiful thing.

Of course things are happening, one of which involves many changes at work. Lay-offs and computer changes have created untold amounts of stress. I find myself in the role of an anchor. While the ship is tossed about I feel as though I am the one trying to keep everyone on an even keel. It is not that I don't feel tossed about, it is just that I seem to show some stability during the changes, that people have taken notice of. I know in my heart that God is the real anchor in my life. As I trust in him and lean on him, the changes seem more easily accepted and tolerable. I take my witness at work very seriously and pray often that I can maintain my sanity as a testament to God's presence in my life. I am so far from perfect though...

In other thoughts, that are wondering in my head, this country is really taking a wrong turn. I don't wax on about politics so my point is this; are Christians doing their part to understand the crumbling future of this country and raise their children to stand up in a world that is much different from the one we grew up in? As government takes control of more things and poverty grows, are we instilling values in our children to see them through a rocky future? A good life will not be handed to them. They are inheriting a country with rapidly diminishing freedoms, socialist movements, terrorists and rebels. This amongst great economic decline and absent moral standards. Are we teaching them how to stand up for the Kingdom of God? Are they learning that freedom is not something given but something fought for? Will they understand that accumulation of stuff will not get them happiness? My husband and I are trying to raise our children to be warriors for God. It is very likely in their lifetime that they will have to choose between God and freedom. My prayer is that I have so instilled in them a longing for heaven and a real relationship with their Savior, that they have no doubt whom they will choose.

This leads me to my homeschooling soapbox. Why would anyone deliberately choose to turn their children over to the government instead of teaching them at home all about God and his creation? Shame on us all that render onto Caesar the things of God, our precious children. Now this being said, I understand that in some circumstances there is no choice but to send kids to public school. Single working parents obviously have no choice. But we let the devil convince us that schools aren't really that bad, that I'm not patient enough or smart enough to home school. Of course there is the old steadfast argument that home school children are socially backwards. Those are lies and excuses. Raising children is a huge responsibility and I firmly believe that I will stand before God one day and give an account of how I raised my children. I want to be able to say that I taught them the things of God, that I trained them to finish the race, that I didn't give over my responsibility to strangers to teach them life. Let's face it, children learn more than the 3 R's at school. They learn about life, they learn about morals, they learn about lies. If you ask God for help, will he turn you away? If you honor God by raising your children at home, as he intended, will he not guide and strengthen you to do so? Put fear aside and stand up for what is good and right.

Of blessings and other things

While contemplating speaking to a friend about something a thought came to mind. Is it wrong to ask God for a specific blessing? There are several things that the Bible calls blessings, such as meekness, mercy, children, wisdom, etc. Is it wrong to ask for such things as these? Why would it be? And yet we often think we can obtain these things through our own power and will. Can we even breath without God's grace, without him giving us the blessing of health? I have watched several people die in my lifetime, actually been there as they drew their last breath. It gives me pause to watch such a sacred moment. No matter what anyone does, there is a time when every man draws his last breath. Are we really foolish enough to think we have any control over that? Am I foolish enough to think that I have any promise as to the length of my life? In that vein, am I foolish enough to think that if I have no power to save my life, have I power to make it a worthwhile life? Isn't it really all about giving glory to God? Of course it is. If my life is to give God glory in everything than I need His help and I need him to bless me. Even Jacob wrestled with God for a blessing. I am wrestling with God for a very specific blessing. Should I let go without it? That I can not answer, even as I weep.