“His perfect love casts out all fears and leaves only thanks…” (Voskamp)

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.

Yet this. This. It comforts me.

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. It is nothing to His. He received it. He did, though, ask for it to be removed. It is okay, it is right… to ask.

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.

16 Rejoice always, 17 pray without ceasing, 18 give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you. I Thessalonians 5:16-19 ESV

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.