Misplaced hope

After three months of bad reports, she sat anxiously, even excitedly assured of a positive outcome. Her carpenter husband’s chronic cancer had given them a wake-up call and a constant dose of bitter mortality over the past 90 days. Recently having been told by their oncologist that in order “for him to survive the long term, Galen’s numbers had to be under .1”. It seemed shocking that little numbers made a big difference, but in his case every one hundredth of a number meant everything. That was a number in which he had never reached. The news prompted them to gather more opinions from experts that were no doubt a gift from God and to examine the possibility of different treatments. And now in the present, the treatment had been covered and the carpenter was responding so positively with the fewest of side effects.

Or so the couple thought.

The nurse kindly left the lab reports after having sharing some laughter and small talk about life. She shut the door on her way out and the wife of the carpenter, casually turned to page 3 quickly to look at her husband’s latest numbers. This was routine as she knew right where to look and the chart had the information so nicely organized that she could compare numbers from previous tests.

It was strange really that her heart didn’t drop and her eyes didn’t sting with pain, but instead her mouth uttered, “what?” loudly as a cloud of confusion began to descend upon her. Her husband, too, shared in the disbelief, the numbers must have been forged because how else could a person explain that his lab reports said his cancer had increased by at least 10x even after he had already started a new treatment?

The doctor soon came in and they began addressing the problem. He quickly stated how one test shouldn’t alarm the couple, or determine an immediate response, but he, too, was perplexed and insisted her husband get another test in 4 weeks instead of the regular 12. “We will go from there” he said assuredly. She looked at the doctor and thanked him for his care and begin to weep as the confusion gave way to fear. The doctor kindly looked at her and said, ‘it will be okay. He will be okay.’
But those words didn’t really stick with her or anchor her soul because what did he know? While he was a caring, attentive oncologist, he was only human and he didn’t know what only God could. She and the carpenter left feeling burdened, disheartened, confused and perplexed. This appointment, yet again, was not what they were expecting to hear. In her mind, she had to again be the bearer of bad news to those who cared to know. And she was tired. So weary and felt for the first time in nearly four years like she was finally too much. She was a burden.

Over the next week, the wife of the carpenter would struggle to do daily tasks, she would wrestle against a winter that she was so far from over and also the cancer in which her husband battled. The days were long and filled with gloomy clouds, the kind that hang so low, a person could feel their weight suppress his soul. She spent many days crying as she shared with those closest to her about the news feeling the weightiness of the what if’s. Her problem was what good did she have to share or good news to give anyone after this appointment?

The next day as she was driving her tribe home after picking up the oldest, strictly in the mind of going through the motions, the sun had broken through the gloomy skies and had brightened the day. The snow wasn’t gray, but white, and crisp and even sparkled. Shades of a bright blue were abundant. Father Winter mercifully relented if even for just a tiny while and the mother of these three candidly remarked, “you guys, what a beautiful day it is”. And back behind her seat, her littlest love, with pigtails and a winter boot that had fallen off, said without prompting, “thank you God!”

For some reason it was at that moment, the wife of the carpenter realized she had misplaced her hope. It was possible to find something to be thankful for in the midst of hardship. Her hope was never supposed to be in doctor’s appointments, or numbers and she is never actually supposed to be the source of hope for other people. In fact, as she reflected, she knew the appointment, while it may not have gone her way, was still a part of God’s sovereign plan.

And it wasn’t thwarted that day.

She made the mistake of thinking this walk with cancer was a destination and not a journey. That this appointment and good numbers would be the source of her hope when it wasn’t. It couldn’t be. If it were, it wouldn’t sustain her heart in the long term.

Just as the clouds parted that day, so her confusion and burden began to lift, she felt so deeply assured that God’s ways were truly higher than hers (Isaiah 55:9). She looked back on her lifeand trusted that even though this wasn’t news they didn’t want, God made good on His promises to her in the past and that He would continue to do that. She knew that He would take what was meant for evil and use it for His good and His glory (Genesis 50:20). She knew that she knew her God was capable of taking her tears, her trials, her ashes and exchanging them for a crown of beauty (Isaiah 61:3) and she wasn’t simply just trusting anymore, she had been a first-hand witness for the last 4 years. Tears drew themselves to the corner of her eyes, but she just knew that God would sustain her, no matter what the future looked like. And with that knowledge, peace flooded her soul like sunshine, and that was best news she could’ve gotten.
#raisingchickensandchildren
#cancersucks
#Godisgood
#todayisagift

Stones of Rememberence

In the Christian walk, we are often asked to create stones of remembrance.  Those times when we faced hardship and trial, the testing of our faith and we are to not dwell on the pain, but thank God for His faithfulness.

For me, today is one of those days.  It was three years ago, when I was blind sighted with unimaginable news. A dreary day it was as Galen and I headed for his first appointment to discuss why his white blood cells were so high. They were 169, when they should've been between 3 - 10. My non-medical mind didn't know how dangerously high those numbers were or how clearly, they pointed to the leukemia that had developed in his body.

I went into this doctor’s appointment with the answer already in my head.  My husband would have caught some sort of weird cold and the medical professionals were being cautious and following the rules in order to be safe.  This rationale made sense to me because by every single indication, my 28-year-old husband was healthy.  And I wasn’t going to believe a doctor that told me otherwise.

But within minutes of our meeting, the hematologist said Galen had either AML or CML and he hope it was CML because that was treatable.  I lost my breath in that moment, unable to comprehend his words. The questions ran down my face in the forms of tears.  What was this I was hearing? My body went into autopilot which I was grateful for because in that moment there was no way I could begin to tell it how to breathe. The oncologist told us if he did have this cancer, even though it isn't curable, it was the right one to have.

I wanted to punch him.

We drove home with darkness over us. My head was spinning.  I had asked God to make me a woman of faith and prayer, but what the heck was this?  Boaz was born prematurely, I totaled our SUV just 15 days prior and now this?  What the heck was happening? I wasn’t just afraid for my husband having cancer today, but what else was in store for my family?

But as every thought stormed my brain, desiring to take me hostage, a thought entered my mind, “God sized dreams don’t come without resistance.”

You see, Galen was going to drop me and the boys off at home and then he was off to the insurance office to pick up a $6,000 check for wrecking our vehicle. That check had been delayed into getting into our hands until that very day. You see, that $6,000 was a miracle from God. Our SUV was only worth $2,500. And after I totaled that vehicle, the Lord asked me to pray for DOUBLE the amount of the vehicle. I kept asking the Lord if He has ever, in all His Awesomeness and Creatorship self, dealt with insurance because that was a tall order. I asked God to forgive where I had unbelief and I prayed that He would give us double the value of the vehicle.

God did.

Then the insurance company called back the next day and told us they made a mistake.

Of course, they did, I figured they figured us out.

Well, they offered us $1000 more.

Days like that one are ETCHED into my memory. This day challenged my faith in Jesus Christ. This day mocked at my hope in the Creator God. And maybe you think I live too much in the past as I remember these days, maybe you think I need to be over it, maybe you get tired of hearing about the cancer and what we dealt with during that year of hell.

But that day changed me.
It refined my faith.
It dissected every part of me and put my belief in God to the test.

That year was not over and our battle with cancer still wages, however, God has proven Himself faithful hundreds of times over.  And I sit here and remember. That day was a gift in disguise.

I remember this day and use it to build my faith.  Not knowing what the Lord has planned for my future, but trusting if He could bring us through that (and still is), then He can again in the future.

And is Jesus worth trusting you ask? Absolutely.

Cinderella Mom

Monday again, even for her can be hard. This wife and momma wears her ragged yoga pants and old sweatshirts, like a modern-day Cinderella girl.  Her once done hair, is now 5 days old and is falling out of her messy bun, drifting off low and to the side.  Her face unwashed and teeth not yet brushed.  The mundane of Monday sets in again, as this Cinderella momma has done heaps of chores, sorted oodles of laundry and washed every Buzz Light Year and Jake sippy cup her family owned.  

And today, even though it’s Monday and even though it’s February, she breaks from the days tasks to beckon her children outside. It’s not often Winter relents to Spring, but because it does today, she brings them out into the sunshine. The older two wear socks only, the belly of the youngest babe hangs well out her shirt. The new pants of the oldest are already ripped.  The yard is littered with old garage sale toys.  The lawn is overgrown and wild and in need of some tender care, the weeds of her flowerbeds begin to awake, but today she lays down her Cinderella self.  She sits in the old rickety wicker lawn chair and basks in the sunshine unsure of why it actually feels warm and no wind can be felt. 

She’s propped in her seat, drawn into the action of her children like a good book or an enticing movie.  There on the old playset, they are playing with each other immune to the fact she lovingly watches them play.  The breathless giggles as the youngest holds tightly to her pacifier, while the sounds of her excitement exhale.  The brothers giggle ferociously as they push each other and tackle each other down the slide.  Careful not to hurt each other they all delight in the company of the other two. They take turns throwing their head backs, playing peekaboo and losing them self in the moment, like children do when they have no agenda, no list, and no care in the world.

Without a doubt, this Cinderella mom’s heart is filled with joy, not sure where she’s really receiving the warmth, from the sun or from the giggles of her three little loves?  Surely, today is a gift.  A sweet, beautiful present from the Giver Himself.  She can’t help but think a year ago, she wrestled and wagered, wondered and prayed whether she should give up her classroom for them. It seems so silly and trite now. But it was something she loved, and an income this family needed.  But she sacrificed herself for her family, believing it was in the best interest of them she stay home, unsure of how the Giver would provide.

But she sits her today, realizing full well her Giver has provided, not only financially, but for her soul. She cannot deny that she is still reeling in gifts from that one act of faith, that moment of surrender, that point in which she laid down her desires for those she loved most nearly a year ago.   A smile quickly and quietly comes across her face as she is reminded that a day like today, a Monday, an ordinary February day, is the thought that Jesus blesses obedience. She tucks this feeling inside for future times when her faith will yet again be tested, as a reminder God’s ways are better than hers, and when she listens to Him, her heart, her soul is so very deeply satisfied.

#raisingchickensandchildren

#todayisagift

#Godblessesobedience

#benaiahgrey
#boazgraham
#keziahkate

When love is disguised as pride

It’s been an unusual winter, no snow and so much gray. The darkness not only covered the sky, but lingered on over everyone, causing people to ache for even just a little sunshine. The clouds hung so low, the heaviness they carried could be felt on the shoulders of many. She waited by the windows and begged for the light to break through the clouds, even if but for a minute, to find relief from this atmospheric burden. While she was too busy looking out the panes of her old brick farmhouse, she was too blind, however, to see the spiritual burden she was unknowingly carrying, too, and that was robbing her heart of peace. And there she sat in her living room listening to the pastor’s wife and seeing the dark be exposed for what it was by the truth of this wise woman. She, the wife of the carpenter, had expressed a fear for one of her children that she had only shared with a handful of other people. She believed the Bible when it said we have the power to bring life and death with our words (Proverbs 18:21) And because her words mattered, she didn’t want to birth life to that which so deeply distressed her heart. But for years as she wrestled with the Lord in prayer over this child, about this anxiety, she was never given any sort of peace or resolve or feeling that her burden was lifted. And she didn’t know what to make of it.

The pastor’s wife listened keenly to her, reminding her of what she already knew, but had not applied in this situation. The mother of young children knew what it meant to say, even if many times to her fears, in fact it had become her mantra. She had had to say before, “even if we lose this baby” “even if my husband has cancer” “even if I don’t get that job” that God had a way of working out His plan in His timing. But like Peter, this young mother was blinded, in her love for the Lord, thinking that because in her own mind that she was a master of faith, and had no need for encouragement in faith by others.

And like Peter, her pride got in the way.

Peter boastfully shouted that he would die for Jesus, and that he didn’t need to have his feet washed by His Lord that he loved. But in his effort to show adoration of his Master on his own strength, he was actually disobeying Him. And that’s what she was doing as well. What must have Jesus thought when Peter said those things, knowing that Peter would actually disown Jesus not once, but three times. And that Jesus would actually be the one to lay his life down for Peter. She had failed in this situation, to submit this fear to the truth of God’s Word, fighting her own battle and not surrendering this encounter to the Lord.

And so, days after her meeting with the wise pastor’s wife, the mother of these three little munchkins, walked outside into the gloominess of the winter day. And it was right there she felt the need to wrestle in prayer like she had so often, feeling the enemy encroach on her life right there, breathing in her ear this fear, these lies and so she did what Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego had done, “even if, this fear comes true,” she stated, “ I know my God is good. I will trust Him. I do not trust that I get through this situation on my own strength if it would come to fruition, because it would break me, but I know God is good. I know He is great, I know He can bring beauty from ashes, any ashes, and I know what you intend to do to bring me harm, my God HAS, CAN and WILL use for His good and His glory (Genesis 50:20).” And as she walked back inside, she peered up in the sky to see for the first time more than 7 long days, a break in the clouds, and the light had finally broken through the darkness.
#raisingchickensandchildren
#todayisagift

Have you ever sought an answer, a job, an alternative and after all you did, you were told no?

Yeah, me, too.

All day I had been anxious.  My stomach was in knots waiting for the answer.  Food had lost its taste, and I really lacked focus.  The previous 10 days I had been able to be focused in prayer, and by God's grace, I wasn't trapped with anxiety.  But the time for the answer was closing in and it was difficult to keep my thoughts focused any longer.

It was 3:45pm and I called Galen to see if he had heard any news. He replied with the response, "The doctor was relieved to tell us it's Chronic Mylogenous Leukemia and not Acute Mylogenous Leukemia."  Tears burst over my eyelids like broken dams. Relieved?  I didn't want the lesser of two evils.  I didn't want cancer at all!!

I felt the pain of a stake break the glass of my heart. Its' chards piercing deep into my lungs, preventing my body to do what its supposed to do. It was at that moment I had to tell myself how to breathe because it was no longer possible for me to do it without thinking.

Somehow though, in my own stubborn defiance to cancer, I refused to give into such crushing news at that moment and let my voice quiver. 

I would be brave. 

I would be courageous.

I would not allow cancer to steal anything more of what it already had set to do.  With as much guts as I could muster, I only uttered a few short words.

"Okay" I replied. "I'll see you when you get home.  I'll call your family."  And so I had to switch roles to be the bearer of bad news to inform a mother and a father and sisters that their son and brother had the cancer we all prayed against.  But I couldn't do any more refusing to answer the "how are you?" question.  I couldn't go there.  I wouldn't go there.

Not yet anyway.  Quite frankly, I didn't know how I was.  I wasn't sure of my feelings. I didn't know how to answer this "no".  I was just trying to stand.

----.

But no?  How no? Why no?

I didn't feel angry.  Instead, when I relive so much of that moment, which is now a part of me, I see the 5 year old version of myself.  The one with long brunette wavy hair, in her Sunday dress, fresh faced and full of innocence. This girl was asking her daddy why the answer was "no?" while peering down at the ground trying not to express the extent of how much her heart hurt.  It's not that I wouldn't have my moments of rage, anger and lots of swearing because I did, it was just at that moment, I didn't understand.  I was so sad, so disappointed, so confused because I didn't understand why my faith wasn't enough.  Why my fasting wasn't enough.  Or why my belief in God wasn't enough.  I didn't know what I could have done more to get God to say yes.  I was perplexed and as I cried out I could hear my Abba Father whisper in my ear, "I know baby, I know you don't understand.  I know this doesn't make sense, but please just trust me."  I felt Him wrap me up in His arms and sit me on His lap.  I felt the warmth of His kiss on my cheek as He also wiped away the streams of tears.  He knew I didn't understand, but his patience and compassion for my broken heart was great.

So yeah, I've heard "no".  And it sucks. To this day, I'm not exactly sure why God allowed my husband to develop leukemia. I don't know that I see the bigger picture always.  I hate cancer and I wish it was a tangible "thing" because I would cut it.  I would throw it.  I would pour out my anger all over it.  

But over these last two years, He's taken that shattered heart of mine and He is rebuilding it.  He has provided bills to the exact dollar amount.  He has given my husband one of the most caring, knowledgeable and compassionate oncologists. Somehow, by God's grace, I have been able to share our story with countless others and more importantly about God's faithfulness.  He has replaced areas in my life where I lacked empathy and helped to give me more compassion (although I still have an enormous way to go!) He even took a dream that I had in college to speak to large groups of people and tell them why they should trust Jesus and He allowed it to happen 3 times that year. He has given us both more boldness about our faith in Him.  I have found through this whole time, that even though I don't understand why, I am thankful for the opportunity to grow in Him and to know the He is worth trusting. 

Two years later and I am thankful for "no".  

#TwoYearsAgo

#cancerSucks

#GodisGood

#ItsGoodToRemember

I am afraid

In my devotions this morning,  I was reminded about the need to pray about any ungodly fear in my life.  I tend to believe I am not an anxious or a fearful person.  I don't often find myself consumed about the potential what if's life may or may not have in store for me.

That is until about 2 years ago when Galen was diagnosed with an incurable cancer, I totaled our SUV and I had to give my 5 month old son, Boaz, life saving CPR.  My life was so frightening and incredibly overwhelming as the waters of terror fell upon me.  I was so consumed that I had no idea what was next.  And that was the most terrifying part of all.  I just didn't know what was waiting to crush me.  I didn't know what was finally going to be the last straw and break my spirit. And as long as we can be afraid of the future, we allow the enemy to rob of us life and joy (John 10:10).

But that was 730 days ago and my life has gone back to normal, hasn't it? Outward appearances may suggest that, but over the last few years I found I have to actively protect my mind against ungodly fright.  In part because I have experienced incredibly scary events in my life and ones that all happened in quick succession to each other.

It wasn't until we had Keziah late last Fall that I felt those fears begin to circle me again.  I didn't realize there was residue leftover from Bo's incident.  Over the last month and a half, Keziah has slept 8 - 10 hours (Praise God!!) but it has also haunted me.  There have been times in the middle of the night I have woken up out of sheer panic as if trepidation had me gripped by the neck. Without clear thoughts I quickly slam my hand on her belly to check for her life.  My chest hurts and my stomach aches as I slowly feel relief enter back in my body.  Thank God, not again.  It's a fearful thought to any parent, but especially to one who has seen and found their child blue, limp and lifeless before.

I go to our bathroom where I see Galen's medication laying on the counter and am tempted to wonder how long will it last? 

No, he is not in remission.  

No, he is not cured.  

No, he is not healed. 

And so I wonder how long will this treatment work until I'm told heartbreaking news again? My best friend's dad died of this SAME cancer.  How long do I have with him? And then there are the times I am driving and I'm overcome with the thought we are going to wreck our vehicle again only this time maybe I won't be so fortunate to bring my kids home with me.  

Fear has been attacking me like a roaring lion. 

I find myself in fear of a year from the pit of hell again. 

But with apprehension comes a CHOICE.  An option to succumb to those fears or a decision to live in the hope and freedom of Jesus Christ.  A decision to remember God's faithfulness and to trust in spite of my fears. But I can't fight these fears unless I put on the helmet of salvation where I guard my mind against such terrible thoughts.  Or if I don't pick up the Sword of the Spirit, God's Word, to counter the enemies lies.  Or if I do not praise the Creator for, well, everything.  That's how I prevent fear from encroaching on my life, something that locking doors, using baby monitors and driving the speed limit can't do.  Because you see doing all the "right" things doesn't prevent real tradegy from happening.  Even being a believer in Christ doesn't prevent us from trials, however, it's knowing He's got the whole world in His hands that gives me peace no matter the circumstance.  It's knowing there is more than this life to think about.  There will be a day when trials, tribulations, sadness, injustice will all disappear.  And my heart longs for that day when Jesus returns.

So today and every day I CHOOSE to battle with my fears with weapons of war and that will win.  I wage against these thoughts with Scripture and thanksgiving.  

Today my fear will not be given permission to permeate my mind.

Today my fears will be taken captive.  

Today my fears will find themselves answering to the Almighty God.

Today I will fight these fears with the truth of God's word.

When I am afraid, I am reminded to cast my cares on Him because He does care for me. (1 Peter 5:6 -7)

When my heart is faint, He is my God and will strengthen me. (Isaiah 41:10)

When I pray and ask God He will provide peace to guard my heart and mind (Philippians 4:6-7)

If I experience my worst fear, I know He will never leave me nor forsake me. ( Deuteronomy 31:6)

and my favorite one, the verse I recite often aloud in my home is a deep meaningful, descriptive passage in which I love:

Even when I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I don't have to be afraid because my God is with me and will bring me comfort (Psalm 23:4)

These promises don't guarantee that I won't see my fears come true, but they give me hope that I am not alone, and that no matter the outcome my Jesus is in control.  And it's at that moment, after my heart experiences relief as I have again checked on Keziah, that I remember why we named her that.  Keziah was a gift to Job after he experienced his own hell.  

"The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is on me,

    because the Lord has anointed me

    to proclaim good news to the poor.

He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,

    to proclaim freedom for the captives

    and release from darkness for the prisoners,

2 to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor

    and the day of vengeance of our God,

to comfort all who mourn,

3     and provide for those who grieve in Zion—

to bestow on them a crown of beauty

    instead of ashes,

the oil of joy

    instead of mourning,

and a garment of praise

    instead of a spirit of despair.

They will be called oaks of righteousness,

    a planting of the Lord

    for the display of his splendor."

Ashes for beauty, friends.  Ashes for beauty.

Lessons in Parenting: Childlike faith

It was a few weeks ago I found myself at home with the boys for an evening.  A night that no doubt had to be filled with heroes and villains.  An evening in which champions had to learn to share and scoundrels had to be put in timeout.  It's the joy of being a mother of boys.

 

Anyway, Benaiah was getting his gang of Buzz, Thomas, Batman, Jessy and Woody together to fight against the forces of the evil Dr. Porkchop.    But as he was gathering his posse, he gazed at me and said, "Mommy, where's Woody?"  Woody had been lost for quite sometime and after extensive searches I knew Woody had to be at someone else's house or even worse, the place where socks who go missing go.   It really seemed hopeless, but Benaiah is a pretty persistent kid.  After five minutes of searching, he kept asking me where his final star hero was.  I wish my response had been sooner, but sensing his desperation, I quipped, "Well, bud, you'd better ask Jesus to help you find him because I have no clue where Woody is".

 

And before I could finish my thought, Benaiah turns around and says, "Jesus, please help me find my Woody."  Oh how I felt the strings of my heart be tugged.  The faith he had to just ask God to help him because I told him He would.

 

Earlier that week, I was reading in a book about a scientist who was doing an experiment on dementia patients.  One of the studies he was doing was to see how much they could or could not remember depending on past experiences.  So the man begins the experiment by walking in and meeting his patient who had severe dementia.  He introduces himself, sits down and talks with her and leaves after a short little bit.  He repeats the scenario consecutively, each time the woman has "never met him before".   So it comes time for a test, and when he holds out his hand to greet her, he had a little pin in his hand that pricked her finger. She let out an "ouch" and clearly it had caused her pain, even if it was minor. Their conversation continued to go on as usual.  However, the next time he walked in, her demeanor was very different.  She was very hesitant with him and through many of her behaviors it was evident she didn't trust the man.  When asked why, she didn't know why because as she put it, "had never met him".

 

This story came to the forefront of my mind as I watched my little boy go on and play with his evening.  This idea came floating down in my head as I was trying to make sense of the situation at hand. I heard Benaiah's plea replay in my mind, that I asked God to listen to Him.  "Lord, I really don't know that in the grand scheme of things this prayer request really matters to you or even to Benaiah.  But Lord, hearing Him trust me that He could get help from you, well that just gets me God.  That's got to get your heart, too, doesn't it?  He didn't even ask why like he likes to, God he just in his mind, said, okay and did it. You now God, it is kind of like that woman that couldn't pinpoint what it was in her past that made her not trust the doctor, maybe this situation, which Benaiah would never be able to remember on his own,  would only help Him trust you later in his life.  You know I don't want to tell you what to do, Lord, but I simply, humbly ask, if this prayer request matters, if this builds his faith, if this builds on what he can comprehend of you, then Lord, please honor his silly two year old request."

 

I have learned in my life not to tell God what to do, so I left my prayer as that.  Trusting it as God saw fit. Benaiah, Bo and I went into the playroom to see how good vs. evil would play out.  Would Dr. Porkchop learn to share?  Would Buzz be able to save his friends?  The suspense was killing me as I am sure it is you right now.

 

We played and well, Thomas got derailed, Buzz got kidnapped and while Jessy and Batman were looking for them, like in good hero fashion, I opened up a racecar station which hasn't been opened in forever, and there, crammed in the back, was Woody.

 

I literally gasped.  

 

Li-char-ally, like a disbelieving fool.

 

I screamed, "Benaiah!  Look! Look what's in here!" 

"It's Woody, mom!!"

"I know buddy, who did you ask to help you find him?" 

"I asked Jesus mom.  Thanks Jesus for helping me find my Woody."

 

And I am pretty sure in that moment, my faith grew in a way I didn't know it could. And I learned a lot in that moment.

 

1. God cares about the little things.  Even toys.  Maybe it's not until we pray about it, that we will get an answer to our requests.
2. Every single prayer matters to God and is heard by God.  Remember, we thought Woody was lost for good. Even the ridiculous ones from a two year old who won't remember this story, but will know it because I will tell him about it for many years.
3. And lastly, God desires to build our faith, whatever spiritual situation we find ourselves in.

 

 

Oh, and in case you were wondering what happened to Thomas and Buzz,  thanks to our cowboy friend, Buzz was found and Thomas continued to deliver his mail around Sodor.  And Dr. Porkchop got put in time out.

 

But more importantly, my son's faith in God was strengthened, so that one day He can trust God with so much more.