Waves of water pounded against our home. At six o’clock in the morning, the sound soothed and lulled. I smiled. A quiet morning was just what our household needed. Slipping out the door with both husband and daughter asleep, I braced myself for the onslaught. But to my surprise, the hard rain had temporarily vanished. Instead of cascading waterfalls, Only a gentle pitter-pat of drops baptized my face. Puddles pooled over my feet. But the warm morning mist refreshed my spirits.

     With a deadline, coffee-date, and massage, my morning was already packed. But Sweet Pea and my husband would be able to enjoy a relaxing morning of fun. Sporadic rain showers dumped on and off throughout the morning. By the time of my coffee date, sunshine splashed in glorious rays. However, my massage was altogether a different story. 

     Upon my departure, thunder crashed and boomed. A rainstorm of mammoth proportions soaked me to the skin. I screeched and gasped my way home. Grateful to find the front door already open, I stumbled in.

     “We heard you all the way down the street,” grinned Sweet Pea. She and my husband sprawled on the floor. Legos dotted the rug.

     “We sure did,” my husband teased, “everyone heard you!” I stuck out my tongue and threw my wet clothes in the dryer.

     “We made you a sandwich,” called Sweet Pea. A girl who delighted in dousing other people with water, she grinned at my soaked stature. Teasing statements surrounding my wet walk peppered me as I ate lunch. But mother’s revenge is sweet. For as quickly as the downpour appeared, the sun now reappeared in bright array.

     “Let’s go for a bike ride,” I pronounced, “the sun is out and it is gorgeous.” Silence met my words. 

     “But it might rain!” protested Sweet Pea. Not wanting to get wet, Sweet Pea was resistant. Plus, my track record with rain showered walks and bike rides did not bode well in my favor.     

     “I don’t want to go,” pouted Sweet Pea, “Must I?” Her eyes pleaded with my husband. 

     “Yes,” I answered, searching for dry shoes, “go get changed.” Bless my husband! For despite my history of getting caught in rain showers, he dutifully unloaded the bikes.

     “If we’re going to go,” he said, peering up at the sky, “we better go now.” Onto the bikes we climbed and away we went!

     Huge puddles stretched across the roadways. Water sprayed against my legs and back. Dirt splattered my hair and clothes. Sweet Pea laughed.

     “Get her, Daddy!” she exclaimed, as another geyser soaked my sneakers.

     “What?” my husband asked with forced innocence. Sudden realization hit. My husband was purposefully riding us through puddles for the sole aim of getting me wet! Mother’s revenge may have been sweet but Daddy’s revenge packed a bigger punch.

     I shrieked as a fountain of water shot into the air, soaking me.

     “Ride through that one!” exclaimed Sweet Pea, who was thrilled to see her mother get wet. Then, surprise of surprises, it started to rain. And of course, it was not the gentle mist or sprinkle variety but a steady, streaming flow.

     All I will say is that between the rain and serving as my husband’s shield against puddle backsplash, not a dry spot remained on me. From top to bottom and everything in between, I was a dripping mess.   By the time we returned to our neighborhood, I had thrown in the proverbial towel. But no, it wasn’t over yet.

     “Let’s keep going!” suggested Sweet Pea, a sparkle in her eye. IN an instant, I knew her conspiracy. And so did my husband.

     “No!” I screeched, “I’m soaked!” But my family ignored my protests.

    “Sure!” my husband chirped, a broad grin on his face. 

     I was being set up. But I had no choice in the matter. As the second rider on a tandem bike, I was forced to follow. With great glee, my husband veered left into the community. He was on a mission….soak Mommy.

    One thing you need to know about our neighborhood is how it boasts several deep puddles after rainstorms. These remained for days. Often, Sweet Pea and I enjoy jumping and playing in them. But today, a different technique of splashing would occur.

     “Yay!” cried Sweet Pea, her legs gaining new energy. 

     Splash! Jet streams of waters deluged my legs, soaking my shirt and pants. Sploosh! Another huge puddle monsoon over me. Amidst shrieks and protests, we finally pulled into our driveway. Sweet Pea skidded to a halt and jumped off. She examined me with a critical eye. Then she stepped behind me and touched my back. With one finger, she drew a smiley face through the caked dirt.

     “There!” she said in triumph, “now you’re done!” But as my husband and daughter stood with Cheshire grins over their faces, I realized a sudden injustice. My husband was barely wet while my daughter though damp was hardly as dirty as I.
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     “Not fair!” I protested, “How did this happen?”  Sweet Pea giggled. 
     “You need a shower,” she answered with a grin, “And I’m so glad we went on that bike ride!”

     Sweet Pea, my husband, and I curled together at the end of the night. The day had been long. Yet God had been faithful. He blessed each of us with enough strength and energy to finish the day. Now, my most favorite time of the day was about to unfold. Devotions and story time.

     My husband and Sweet Pea sat on the bed while I reclined on the floor. With the pages of the Bible open, we flipped to passages of Scripture. After a long day, these Words of Truth ministered peace to my heart. To feed in God’s Word together with family members is a time I cherish. But of recent, of equal enjoyment is the new time of reading stories after devotions. A captivating chapter book for children, adults and child alike anxiously await to discover what happens next.

     For the past two weeks, we have without fail, read a chapter a night. Tonight was no different. Eagerly, Sweet Pea and I listened to my husband begin the nightly reading. His legs and feet rested on the edge of the mattress as he read.  Sweet Pea loomed bracelets while I stretched my legs on the floor.

     Straining to touch my toes, my fingers extended out. Leaning forward, I flattened my back and bent my head. TO my surprise, a stinky scent whiffed up my nostrils. What is that? I wondered, wrinkling my nose. With head still bowed and legs straight, I continued inching downward. My muscles strained.

     Then, the edge of my nose brushed something…The foul smell increased. Before I knew it, my nostril enclosed over a foreign object. What in the world? And what is that awful smell?

     Realization struck. A lightbulb flashed. My nostril had descended upon one of my husband’s bare toes. Shocked, my head froze. Reality kicked in and I jerked upright. My husband spasmed with laughter as did I.

     “What? What?” demanded Sweet Pea, “What is going on?” A huge grin spread over her face. She did not want to be left out of the hilarity. Though she did not know the cause, she was ready to join in the fun.

     “Mommy just picked her nose with my toe,” my husband teased, a twinkle in his eyes.

     “Eew!” shrieked my little girl, convulsing with giggles. The three of us collapsed into laughter.

     “You’re father’s….feet…stink!” I gasped out, tears running down my cheeks.

     For the rest of the evening, giggles and fun lightened our hearts and lifted our weariness. Even as we prayed, teasing and laughter pervaded our fellowship with God and each other. For the joy of the Lord is our strength. And He pours out the oil of joy over us that we may be raised up and delight in Him.
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     Friends and fellow parents, I pray you will know joy this day. May you look for opportunities to laugh and rejoice in your everyday circumstances. Take advantage of each moment of fun, especially with your family and children. May praise and joy inhabit your home and heart. Amen.

​     It was one of those mornings. Out of order and without routine. Different activities filled the day. Good things…but different. Sweet Pea made breakfast. A real treat. But my stomach was kept waiting for over an hour. I did my best to keep my hangriness in check. Even my typical workout routine altered to fit the family schedule. Adding to the mix was the interesting hue in which my eyes interacted with the world.
     Help my attitude, Lord, I prayed, as I washed breakfast dishes. After all, there was much for me in which to give thanks. Just the fact I could care for my little girl and allow my husband to sleep in, was a victory. Determined to give thanks, I squared my shoulders and put on a smile.
     But as the morning progressed, I still felt restless. Hopeful for a fun family activity, I quizzed my husband and daughter as to what we wanted to do. But nothing of excitement or interest presented itself. Eager to get out of the house, I felt disappointed. Once more, I needed to readjust my attitude. Then my husband cleared his throat.
     “Umm,” he hesitated, “You know your shorts are on inside out…”
     Surprised, I reached back to touch my waistband. Sure enough, the tag was prominently displayed on the back outer part of my shorts.
     “Great,” I mumbled. I ran to the bathroom. Turning them inside out, I tried again. Then back to my puttering I resumed. This time, I grabbed the laptop, hopeful to write in the cool morning air. But as I passed my husband, he made another observation.
     “Now, they are on backwards.” I stopped in my tracks.
     “What?!” My hand snaked once more to the back of my waistband. Sure enough, the drawstrings of my shorts hung like a tail. With an upside-down morning, there was only one thing I could do. Laugh.
     And laugh I did.
     “What’s so funny?” demanded Sweet Pea who was practicing the piano.
     “My shorts,” I giggled, swishing my backend in her direction. Shrieks and giggles of laughter filled the room where dull and flatness had resided. Sweet Pea sprang from her piano bench to chase me. Reaching for my drawstrings, she tried to lasso me. It soon became a game. I, the horse and she the, the rider.
     “Enough,” I protested, whipping my strings away from Sweet Pea. “We’ve got to get going.” So again, I hustled to the bathroom to correct my shorts. With a grateful heart, my mood lightened. In fact, the entire family’s mood lifted. But the mishaps were not finished.
     In the afternoon, Sweet Pea and I popped by the pool. It was one of the last days it would be open for the season. Desiring to say goodbye, Sweet Pea and I hurried through our lunch so we could get to the pool. I threw together a kale salad and a wrap before tearing out the door. Families crowded the pool with children splashing and playing. Sweet Pea and I dove in. The water refreshed our bodies as we bobbed and dipped. Sweet Pea grabbed for my shoulders and hung on. But then she stared at me.
     “Mommy,” she whispered, her eyes round, “there’s something green in your teeth.”  I stared at her, unsure if I heard correctly.
     “Mommy,” she repeated, this time more urgent, “there’s a second green spot.”
     “What?!” I finally mustered. Green? My teeth? Then, the thunderbolt hit. And for the second time that day, I burst with laughter.
     “It’s kale!” I snorted, giggles convulsing my stomach, “I must have kale caught in my teeth.” Sweet Pea shrieked with laughter. The two of us giggled as Sweet Pea attempted to direct the surgical removal of the leafy vegetable.
     When we finally succeeded, Sweet Pea stared once more at me. Her eyes widened and twinkled. Laughter bubbled out of her.
     “Mommy,” she whispered again, pulling me close, “You have a…” Giggles convulsed through her.
     “A what?” I demanded, curiosity peeking.
     Sweet Pea’s cheeks puffed with hilarity, her eyes crinkling at the corners. This time, she leaned in and whispered in my ear. My hands flew to cover my nose.
     “Which one?” I whispered back, “the right or the left?” Sweet Pea pointed, still giggling. I rubbed my left nostril.
     “Is it gone?” I asked. Sweet Pea’s eyes sparkled as she scrutinized me. Once more she threw back her head in laughter.
     No,” she giggled. Finally, after several failed attempts, my nostril airways were clear. But the laughter and fun we shared bonded our hearts together in joy.
     Hours later, as we gathered for evening prayers, my heart welled with thanksgiving. God, You are so good. My Heavenly Father had been so faithful to hear and answer my prayers. How humbled I was that the God of this universe would care to answer my pleas. I marveled how the Holy Spirit truly comes to our aid when we seek and ask. And the more I thanked God, the deeper His love ministered over me. For God turns our mourning into dancing and the spirit of despair into the oil of joy.
     When we experience frustration and discouragement, we need to first seek God’s help. SO many times we forget how we can call upon our God to intercede. He is ready and waiting for us to come. Best of all, our God is able. He is so able. Able to be our portion and strength. Able to bring peace and minister joy. Able to intercede with power and might.
     Dear friends and fellow parents, call upon the God who saves. HE is our Deliverer and Fortress. He is our ever-present Help in our times of need. He is our strength when we are weak. HE is our cup and our portion. Take refuge in the God of Hope and call upon His holy Name.

​     An idea rolled around in my head. It had festered for days, even weeks. But I hadn’t prayed about it yet. Only when a friend voiced a mutual thought did it stir me to action. So to the Lord I went, seeking and asking. Not my Wil but thine be done, I prayed.
     But as a few days passed without strong leading, I wondered. Do you want me to do this, Lord? I queried, I will do it… if You want me too. Then it hit me. Swift and fleeting but strong and true. The question was not whether I was willing to do what HE asked me. The true question was whether I wanted to praise Him. The eyes of my heart opened in understanding. Conviction rolled over me.
     Sometimes we agree to follow God’s Will with an almost reluctant heart. But what God wants is an overflowing heart of uncontainable eagerness. What brings God honor and glory is not our begrudging attitude, but a spirit of joy which radiates praise. Afterall, when we bring an offering of worship to our King, it should be done with all the praise and honor we can muster. Overflowing joy and an outpouring of the Holy Spirit should spring in glorious praises.
     Coming out of a season of trial, it is exciting yet a little scary to step in new ways. I am stretched and challenged. But if I drink from these new springs of living water, rich reward and fruit will follow.
     Last week, a wise friend reminded me of Isaiah 43:19. “See! I am doing a new thing.” When I heard this Scripture, God spoke to my heart. The encouragement of God’s promise to do something new, filled my parched places. For days, this Scripture ministered over me. But later, the rest of the verse penetrated my soul. “Now it springs up, will you not receive it?” God was telling me that new springs of life are pouring out before me…now did I have the courage and trust to step in faith to receive it?
     With the potential opportunity laid before me, two questions stared me in the face. First, was I willing to receive the new things God might be placing before me and step out in faith. But of equal importance is the next question. When I step out in faith, will I be doing it out of begrudging obedience or an uncontainable eagerness of praise. Will my spirit thirst to worship God for the good things HE has done? If my spirit balks and resists, then how can this reflect a heart of worship? Afterall, God doesn’t beg us to come to Him. Instead, we are the ones who must willingly choose to come.
    With a new song in my heart, fresh commitment firmed my resolve. If the doors open for me to walk through, I will do it with a heart of praise. For You have done marvelous things and my praise bubbles over. Praise and worship should not be coaxed or begged to be given but should come out of an overflowing and irresistible spirit of uncontainable joy of the goodness of our God. And God, You have been good to me.7
     Lord, I will willingly go where You want me to go. I ask You cover me with peace and steady my footsteps. Make all my plans succeed and let me shout for joy over Your victory. May Your praise guard my mind and crowd out any fears or anxieties. Now it springs forth, will I not receive it. Yes, Lord, I will. Will you?

The day had been…interesting. Time with a friend morphed into a half day event while new acquaintances unexpectedly made. The afternoon evolved and reinvented itself with me reeling in the wake. Plus, my usual cheery husband was down. His teasing smile and mischievous nature was lacking. It was like the life had been snuffed out of him.

     My thoughts worried over him. Though I asked him what was wrong or what I could do, no response answered. All I could do was seek the Lord and ask Him to minister to his heart.

     But despite his downcast spirit, dinner needed preparing and evening activities still loomed. Chopping vegetables and throwing them into a pot, I rushed to ready for dinner. Dishes slammed into cupboards while laundry flew from the washing machine into the dryer. I grabbed for a spoon to stir the pot on the range when… Ding-Dong!

      “Who is that?” Sweet Pea asked, eyeing the front door. Curiosity reared as I randown the hallway. I threw open the door. surprise flickered. A dear friend stood on the stoop with her daughter and husband.

     My friend beamed. Joy radiated from her every pore.

     “I wanted to share the news with you in person.” She rubbed a hand on her protruding belly. Three weeks from giving birth, she was about to burst. Our friends had asked us to pray for a specific issue pertaining to the pregnancy. From Sweet Pea to my husband and me, all three of us prayed earnestly throughout her term and interceded for the family.

     This very afternoon, there had been an ultrasound. The smiles on their faces sparked hoe in my chest. Eagerness peaked high. I held my breath and waited.

     “God answered our prayers!” She announced. A huge grin spread over my lips.

     “Hallelujah   !” I whooped, hurtling out of the front door to bear hug my friend, “Praise the Lord!”

     Discouraging news had been given them two weeks ago. But a report last week infused new hope. To see God part the seas and make miracles happen, spread joy through me like wildfire. And on a day where worries and dampened spirits ran amuck, such joy ignited fresh hope. It was a gift not to keep to oneself but to share.

     “Sweetheart, come out here!” I called into the house. As we waited for him, our friends, Sweet Pea, and I rejoiced. To experience and share the goodness of the Lord with fellow believers ministered such life-giving joy. By the time my husband appeared at the doorway, laughter and hugs had made their rounds.

     “God answered our prayers!” I heralded. My heart overflowed. Just to see God work miracles and answer prayers reinfused new life. For it is in these small and large details where we see God at work.

     God is always working, always moving, and constantly watching over his children. Even in those small, uttered prayers beneath our breath, God hears us. And He cares…especially for the fine details.

     I have often found God amid the minute details. Just as God crafted every infinite detail of our bodies, HE also delights in working out the small and large details of our lives. And on a day where I needed reminded of God’s miraculous working power, His answer to our prayers, spoke deep assurances and love over me.
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     God delights to answer the prayers of His children. to witness Him parting seas, increases faith and garners greater love. Give me the desire of my heart and make all my plans succeed, prays the psalmist in Psalm 20, “Let me shout for joy over your victory and raise the banners of the Lord our God high.” May it be so for each one of us this day. May He grant all your requests and anoint you with favor. Amen.
 
Prayer
Thank You God for these small and large reminders of Your goodness. Thank You God for reminding me who is in charge and whose power intercedes and covers us. Thank You God for giving me what I needed when I needed it most. I praise Your Name and sing to You a new song. All praise and honor to Your holy Name.

     My husband and I gathered to pray. The night was upon us and bedtime soon approached. A specific prayer request sat on my heart. One of which revolved around a new desire to grow in faith.

     Coming through a trying season, the desire for new steps in faith was a treasure. Yet with new faith also must come the courage and trust to step out. I needed assurance and peace from the Lord. I needed to hear His still, soft voice. And as my husband prayed, a silent whisper filled my heart.

     I will go with you, the Holy Spirit whispered, I will go with you. Gratitude and relief flooded my soul. For though I had faith, His assurance undergirded my steps. Just like Moses refused to go without God, I also sought the Lord’s presence. To know God would go with me was all I needed.

         The next day dawned early. A flurry of activity commenced. By the time we pulled out of the driveway, fatigue settled deep. But I called out to God and He heard my cry. An idea popped into my head. Silly as it seemed, I jumped to follow through. By the time we arrived at our destination, peace, joy, energy, and strength refreshed me. Thank You, Lord, I silently whispered, a smile in my heart and on my face.

     As the day progressed, the sun disappeared behind clouds. A mixture of mist and gentle rain anointed our time. The cooler temperatures refreshed our bodies while the misty rain baptized our skin.

     “Well, if it’s going to be cloudy and rainy, then this is the best way for us to spend it….outside and having fun!” My face lifted to the sky. Raindrops splashed against my skin. I will go with you, once more whispered the still, soft voice. Bible passages flashed through my mind in illuminating succession. I remembered how God led the Israelites with a cloud by day. His presence also descended as a cloud into Solomon’s temple. Then, came the memory of   how God’s presence overshadowed the Mount of Transfiguration.

     Tears welled. This cloud which settled over our day and refreshed our spirits was a tangible reminder of God’s promise. He truly was with me. This realization of His presence in the cloud which blanketed our day, overwhelmed my heart with gratitude and thanksgiving.
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     It takes courage to step out in faith…to trust God. But God sees our hearts and He blesses us no matter how faltering the steps. But as we continue to walk, His strength undergirds and strengthens. And on this monumental day, I praise God for how He did exactly this. He firmed my step and strengthened my foothold. He went before me and was with me. He parted the waters and pushed back the seas. He did more than what I asked or imagined. Hallelujah and Amen!

      After a string of sweltering weeks, the low eighty-degree weather felt glorious. The sun shone but did not burn. The air warmed our skin without causing sweat to pool.

Cool salt breezes ruffled our hair and kissed our cheeks. It was a beautiful afternoon.

     “Can we go in the water?” asked Sweet Pea, her eyes eager. The ocean stretched for miles. Sea gulls hovered on the water’s edge. With boats skimming the horizon. Families and little children splashed and played.

     I grabbed Sweet Pea’s hand, and we ran. White foam swirled around our toes. Slowly, we edged in. We squealed as waves lapped at our feet.

     “Can we go in deeper?” I hesitated. The water called my name. But alone with Sweet Pea, I wanted to ensure her safety. But the answer was easy.

     “Just a little deeper.” Sweet Pea whooped. The sand beneath our feet crumbled like fine crushed stone as we surged forward. We aimed to get beyond the breakers where the surf would not be as rough. Crests foamed. Waves crashed. Surf hurled me against the sandy shore, toppling and twisting me. My limbs scraped against the crushed shells and rough sand. Ouch!

     “Are you okay?” Sweet Pea watched me with a smile. Her eyes twinkled. What fun to watch her mother tumble in the waves. I shook water from my ears and prepared for the next assault.

     “If I get tossed one more time, we are getting out.” Waves hammering me down was not my idea of fun. Several scrapes now bruised my legs and arms. Sweet Pea nodded.

     “Let’s get beyond the breakers,” urged my little girl. I agreed. Surely, it would be better beyond the rough surf. But as we pushed through the breakers, something caught my attention. The sand transitioned from grit to a smooth, silky surface. Sharp shells and stones no longer dug at my feet but massaged them with powdery softness. Even the waves were gentle and calm.

     “Let’s bob!” exclaimed Sweet Pea, squatting to her knees. Dubious, I lowered myself into the waves, girding myself for another hit. But to my surprise, not once did the waves hurl me. Instead, they picked me up and carried me.  They surrounded and lifted.

There we bobbed, two peas in a pod. Huge smiles etched our faces. And it was good. The Sun shone a benediction over us, filling our hearts with light. White clouds dotted the bright blue horizon. Laughter bubbled and poured out. God was with us.

     Even as I type this, it strikes me how life often mimics nature. For in life, rough waters toss us. They pound, tearing at our feet. Waves crash, pulling us under. But it is when we persevere through the waves with the strength of Christ Jesus when we are then able to stand. Though the waves still surround us, it is HE who carries us and gives us strength.

     He is the one who quiets the storms. He is the one who carries us and rocks us in His arms. And before we know it, the stones beneath our feet turn into the smooth and solid foundation of the Rock of Jesus. NO longer do our feet slip and fall for Jesus firms our foothold.

HE has set our feet on a Rock and given us a firm place on which to stand.
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     In the valley of shadows, He makes me lie down in green pastures and leads me beside quiet waters. Just as waves tossed me, with Christ enabling me to persevere and endure, He is with me. He helps me to quieter waters where HE carries me in His arms. Like pushing through the breakers, we sometimes need to push through the storms with Christ carrying and lifting us up. For though the storms of life crash against us, with Christ, we can push through the breakers to the quiet waters and find rest.

“Are not five sparrows sold for two pennies? Yet not one of them is forgotten by God. Indeed, the very hairs on your head are all numbered. Don’t be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows.” Luke 12:6-7
 
      Disappointment riddled Sweet Pea. Her dance camp was cancelled.
     “I was looking forward to it!” she mourned. Her little mouth drooped. I looked down at my little girl.
     “I’m sorry,” I said, placing a hand on her shoulder, “But we can pray God will provide an even better alternative.” Sweet Pea nodded her head in agreement. But discouraged lines painted her face. At bedtime prayers, Sweet Pea voiced her plea.

     “…And please God, will You provide a better option than dance camp.” My heart went out to her. The ballet shoes and tights had been purchased the prior day. Even a light blue leotard hung on a hanger in her closet. Its flouncy skirt thrilled my little girl to no end. Her dreams of dancing like a ballerina were crushed.
     Monday dawned with disappointment. Sweet Pea moped.

     “Mommy, I wish the dance camp wasn’t cancelled.” Her brown eyes worried. “Do you think God will provide something else?” Her small hand tugged at my own.

     “I hope so,” I pointed at my husband. His fingers tapped on a keyboard. “Daddy is looking for other camps or classes.” But despite an extensive search, nothing materialized. We muddled through the day, finding things to do. But when Tuesday rolled along, Sweet Pea still voiced her hope.

     “I don’t know, Sweetheart…” I had looked into pottery painting studios as a potential, even kayaking and paddle boarding. But before exploring this potential, I had a friend to visit in the neighborhood.

     Two months prior, my paths crossed with a woman at our neighborhood. With a daughter one year older than my own along with the discovery of our shared faith, we had been excited to get to know each other. Our girls enjoyed playing together and shared similar interests. We, moms, likewise did as well.

     But when Sweet Pea and I arrived, we learned my friend’s daughter was not home as hoped. Instead, she was attending a baking camp. I had looked into the same camp for Sweet Pea. The camp would have been ideal for Sweet Pea and an area of great interest for her,  but it had been full with a long wait list. So I had disregarded it from my thoughts…until now.

     As we left my friend’s house, I pulled out my phone on a whim.
     “What are you doing, Mommy?” inquired Sweet Pea. Her curious eyes watched me.
     “It never hurts to ask,” I answered, ascertaining a phone number from the web. Sweet Pea’s eyes widened.

          “Hello, do you have any last-minute openings for the camp this week?” I was certain of the answer. Afterall, today was day two of the coveted baking camp. The woman paused on the other side of the line.

     “Actually, yes.” My mouth dropped open. Incredulity intermingled with hope.

     “Really,” My voice scaled. Sweet Pea tightened her grip on me. She bounced impatiently for the news.

     “A little girl didn’t feel well yesterday. Her parents hoped she would feel better to attend today,” explained the woman, “but she woke up with a fever. So yes, if you want the spot, it is yours.”

     “Thank you!” I gushed, “Yes! We’ll have her here tomorrow!” Then a thought flashed. It was not yet eleven o’clock…Could I? I gathered my courage.

     “Can my daughter attend what is left of today’s class?” Sweet Pea hopped up and down. She could not contain her excitement. Thoughtful silence filled the phone line. I held my breath. How nice it would be for Sweet Pea to join and learn the routine on the second day as opposed to halfway through the week.

     “She can be dropped off at noon,” came the answer, “then she can finish out the rest of the week.”
     I thanked the voice on the other line profusely. But one more thing first needed done.

     “Let me check with my husband. I’ll call you right back.” I hung up and Sweet Pea squealed. A huge smile split her face. She bounced with every step.

     “Can I go? Can I go? This is so much better than dance camp!” Laughter bubbled from my insides. My own grin stretched wide.

     “I hope so! Let’s get home to Daddy.” With sweat dripping, we raced home with the exciting news.
     Sweet Pea burst through the door with me at her heels. Breathless, we shared the news.

     “Can I go?” Sweet Pea asked, jumping up and down. My husband smiled.
    “Yes!” Sweet Pea thew up her arms and yelled, “Thank You, God!”

     She danced around the room. Joy radiated from every pore. My husband and I grinned at each other. We soaked in her exuberance and basked in the delight of God’s goodness.

     “Praise God,” shouted my little girl. And praise God, indeed! For this had already been a week of seeking, waiting, and inquiring of the Lord. My spirit needed refreshed and encouraged. And to see Him care about a child’s heartfelt plea, filled me with the deep assurance of God’s faithful care. Yet to witness God moving beyond answered prayer to an answer far above what we hoped or imagined, ministered to my parched places. we asked or imagined. Witnessing God and His goodness work In my little girl’s life gave a tangible reminder of God’s faithful care over his precious children. It reminded me of the Hope we have in Jesus Christ. I needed to know He cared. I needed to know we were not forgotten. And to see God care for my sparrow of a little girl confirmed His watched care and love over me.

     In a season where I’ve needed to cling to Jesus, this answer to prayer testified of His goodness, faithfulness, and love. Its re-infused hope and ministered joy. For God delights in giving good things. But most of all, when we encounter the God of love, we are filled to overflowing. Dear friends and fellow parents, hold tight to the promise that He can do more than what we ask or imagine in His power and strength. Fear not, for God cares for each one far more than the sparrows of the fields. His love for us is higher, deeper, or wider than anything we could imagine. For God is love and He is with you.

​“Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding. In all your ways, submit to Him and He will keep your path straight.” Proverbs 3:5-6 (NIV)
 
     This has been a season of trust. My faith has been challenged like none other. Yet through the valleys, God has illuminated the darkness. He has showered me with love in ways I have never known.

     I sat alone in Sunday School. Orchestrating the morning without my husband had been challenging. Yet, how blessed I had been by the body of Christ. A friend picked up Sweet Pea and me while another was poised to drive us home. Still another was at the ready to help me pick Sweet Pea up from Sunday School.

     Conversations buzzed as I checked phone messages and waited for class to begin. But class was delayed due to a mix-up. Our fearless leader would not be present as initially anticipated.

     I sighed. How I yearned to hear a message packed with wisdom and meaty application. But as the class continued with announcements and prayer requests, a woman was called up to speak. Asked to give her testimony at the last minute, she stood at the front. As her story unfolded, I listened mesmerized.

     Her story spoke of her father. She shared how despite a disability, he chose to live a full life. She testified of his impact upon his children, to his diagnosis of a rare brain cancer. What she shared next caught my attention.

     She told of the supernatural way the Lord interceded and spoke to her need. At a time she needed it most, she heard the silent whisper of the Holy Spirit. Trust, came the whisper over her shoulder, Trust. But what happened next stole my breath. In her locked car, a sign appeared on her driver’s seat. On it was written one word. Trust.  

     “Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding,” she shared, her voice thick with emotion. A shiver ran down my spine. Only that morning had my devotional held this same verse with this very message. Lean not on your own understanding but on God. I knew this message of trust was for me.

     In a season of unchartered territory, I need daily even hourly reminders of this truth. For it is when I lean on my own understanding and try to figure things out in my own strength that I fail. When I try to be in control, I veer off the path.
     As the day progressed with fun fellowship at our Sunday School pool party, the message of trust continued resonating. Even the evening devotion reinforced how leaning upon on our own understanding often tears us apart from God. But when we trust and submit to Him, we encounter God’s presence.

     Even as I type this, I need this reminder. God often asks us to obey. Yet if we let our own need for understanding prevent us from following, we miss the blessing. As humans, we often possess a need to understand before acting. If Noah waited to build the ark until God revealed His plan, who knows when the ark would have been built? For God does not owe any of us an explanation. After all, He is God and we are not. We simply need to trust and obey.

    Trust needs to be built God’s way. Not in our own strength but in God and His ways. For His ways are perfect. His ways are best. The question arises, “Do I trust Him enough to let go control? Do I trust Him to know best? Do I trust Him to redirect my steps if I go the wrong way?

     If I am honest, I struggle. I want to lean on my own understanding. I want control. With my tainted lenses, it can appear easier and is often more tangible for me to grasp. But this is a lie. It is a deception. For we humans are fallible. Yet if we allow God to guide our steps, our path is made straight because we are led by a perfect, all-knowing, loving God.
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     Here I submit to You, Lord. Help me to trust You. Help my faith grow from that of a mustard seed to one which moves mountains. Help me trust and obey. Make Your voice in my life unmistakable and clear. Oh Lord, I want to know You more. Make me steadfast, oh God. Drive away all fear and doubt with the power of Your Holy Spirit. This day and here forward, make peace, joy, and assurance my inheritance.

​“Send me Your light and faithful care, let them lead me; Let them bring me to Your holy mountain, to the place where You dwell. Then, I will go to the altar of the Lord, to God, my joy and delight…” Psalm 43:3-4 (NIV)
 
My husband and I sat on the couch. Engaged in a deep discussion, we were answerless.

     “Do you know what I should do?” The question hung between us.

     “No,” My husband shook his head. A large decision needed to be made. I was clueless. Yet I did not want to move before the Lord nor hang behind. Give wisdom, I prayed.

     The weekend had been a busy one. Non-stop running and activities filled the day. Fatigue settled deep. Earlier complications also muddied the waters. Arguments bantered back in forth in my mind. The circumstances aren’t ideal, I reasoned. But if I wait for the perfect moment, it may never happen. Torn, I waivered.

     Early in the morning I had sought the Lord for guidance. A quick thought had surfaced which I pushed aside. If it thunders tonight, it will be a sign. But not wanting to test the Lord or base my decision upon the weather, I had disregarded the thought as quickly as it surfaced. Yet hours later, when rolls of thunder permeated the air, I wondered if God might be speaking to me. But when the clouds cleared and the sun peeked out, I once more shoved the thought away.

     As the night progressed, indecision tore at me. Please give me unmistakable clarity, I prayed. But even as my husband and I prayed for discernment, no obvious choice presented itself. Frustrated, I flung my hands up.

     “Well, if it thunders tonight,” I shrugged, half serious yet half joking, “I’ll know what God wants me to do.” But just as these words left my mouth, a soft rumble permeated the air. At first gentle, the roll grew louder and more intense. Then, as quickly as it appeared, the thunder ceased.

     My heart pounded. I could not believe my ears. Pure incredulity intermingled with overflowing gratitude. God’s voice had answered me in the thunder. And to know He loved me enough to speak in a way which I would clearly understand, overflowed me with awe. Absolute certainty now filled my every pore.

     “That was clear.” With wide eyes, I looked at my husband. He grinned back at me.

     “Hello, Gideon,” he quipped. I laughed. Peace flooded my heart. For to know the Will of God brings assurance and rest. But to know the heart of the Father brings thanksgiving and joy.

     Often, it is in the details, where God’s heart is revealed. And it is also in the workings out of these details where God’s love can shine the brightest. love and compassion stand illuminated through His watched care over us. And for me, His timely voice in the thunder ministered love over me.
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     May God’s love be a rich covering over you this day. May He flood your heart with a confidant assurance of His power and watched care. May He fill you with joy and peace. And may you rest in the knowledge of His goodness. Amen.