and I have not learned, I have not learned to thank in the midst of the fear and the fist-beating struggle against vulnerability and heel-digging resistance… laying myself low to the competence or lack of… in another…
I have not learned.
Is it something only He can learn in me? I cannot force it. I cannot fake it. I cannot even say it.
My small cup. Small it is. I fully acknowledge, whole-heartedly know- in the light of many, many things- it is a small trial and cup to drink. But, yet, it is my cup, right now and I am having trouble facing it.
“It” is my worry, fear, anxiety, and “lack of control” surrounding the delivery of our twins, my Baby A who is still flipping head up, head down- the reality that I have to face anesthesia I don’t want to face, that I might even have to have a surgery I don’t want to have… this is my small cup.
Rise up in me, O gift of faith, I pray.
Faith to pray for a blessed outcome. Faith to thank in all things. Faith to fight fear. Faith to receive Your love that casts out all fear. Not to cower, afraid. Not to be wrapped in worry’s cloak.
And this, this I can vouch comes from a redeemed heart. It is impossible. Impossible for my self to do this will of God.
I cry, grace. Grace. Grace.