Isaiah 26: 3- You will keep in perfect peace him whose mind is steadfast because he trust in you.
Last night I was officially initiated in as a student midwife by a sweet,7lb. 4 oz, "starter"!
To be honest I wasn’t really expecting things to be much different from the many other births under my belt.... Don’t get me wrong... One of the reasons I love this job is that it is always different. No two births are the same but yet certain aspects are. Kind of like we all have the same basic facial features; 2 eyes, 1 nose, etc., More or less, the same....But yet, its within the details of color and expression lies the vast differences of each individual. So it is with births. But....this being my first as a student midwife, the "colors" and "expressions" were heightened.
As a regular birth attendant, I have moved from task to task, admittedly, sometimes on auto pilot. As a student, last night, I found myself more intentional and aware, much like when I began learning 18 years ago. I remember Dr. S. chuckling to himself after a birth as I had my head down "there" with his, examining a mommy's "fresh privates" (as a client's child once commented). "Only you!" he said, as he laughingly and patiently, gave me "the tour".....God bless him! He probably realized that he had better invite me or I might just scoot him out of the way!
(Don't gross out on me! After all, the title of this blog does have the word midwife in it!)
So now you ask, "What's the reference to butter about?" Well, here it is....When a baby comes quickly, smoothly and with not a "hiccup", its playfully described as a "Butter Birth"....Smooth like butter...On my way to every birth, (after I call my prayer warrior friend, Gelynne) I find myself, entering into a time of audible prayer..It kind of goes like this..."Okay, Lord...This is yours....Your baby, your mama..Your timing...You already have this done...Give me Your wisdom, Your patience, Your protection as You use me." I imagine Jesus riding along in the passenger seat with me, as I believe He is, nodding His head, "navigating"...
Just me and the Lord, dark car, on the road....
Sometimes, He gives me a prayer I was totally not expecting and it isn’t until after the birth that I see why. And at those births, I ask him to show me the smooth parts and He does. Because if you've ever made real butter before, you know that it starts out with fresh, full fat, cream. Its poured into a jar, creamy and white, the sweet milky smell bathing your nose. Then you get to shaking. Sometimes the butter comes easily..At first, tiny fat granules swish on the glass, and before you know it you can hear the soft, thick, thump sound indicating the separation from the buttermilk....
But other times you shake and shake and still nothing...Muscles weak and burning, you review all the ingredients and steps in your mind, questioning whether you have done it right...Did you miss something? But, knowing butter is formed in the constant, persistent shaking, you just keep going...
Shake, shake....Hummm...This isn’t happening the way its suppose to. Lord?
Trust in my process..
Shake, shake, shake....Did I miss something? Am I doing enough? Lord?
Trust that I am working...
Shake, shake, shake....shake... Are you here, Lord? I don’t see you!
Trust that I am in control...Trust in ME!
Shake shake...... thump.
Just when I start to question it all completely, the many, perfect, little, individual granules form together into one perfect ball of sweetness that was really there all along..
So to each birth I go to, I don’t know....Will this be a long, hard birth with complications that stretch my knowledge and insecurities? Will all I know be shaken to a degree that I can’t handle? And am I suppose to be fearful of the shaking, knowing it is what produces and refines the pureness of my trust in Him?
No. Because His hand is in the constant, changing, making and shaking..... and in these times I am to grow, and trust...in His process. Trust in the fact that He is always working. Trust that He is always in control...
And trust that sometimes He just spreads some....butter...
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
Saturday, October 8, 2011
Foundations
Chink..chink...chink.... Do you hear it? That sound?
In 2005 My husband Dave and I bought a house. Our first house after years of "to cheap to not be renting", in an area where housing prices were sky rocketing faster than our pay checks could or wanted to keep up with.
"Can you all fit in this house?", our good friend and realtor asked, as we made our way through all 1,000 (?) square feet of what was to end up as our new home. Built in the 1950s, our ranch style, brick house was teeny....and dirty...and smelly. "C" had good reason to ask that question, although I am sure what he was really thinking was "Why would you want to fit into this house?". After renting for so long, we had many years of built up home ownership envy and had had plenty of time to renovate, plan and decorate many houses in our mind's eye (s). Plus, this house came with deeded access to the Shenandoah River and had a POOL! Heck! If we couldn't fit, we would just sprout gills and learn to live in the water!
As plans were drawn up, and dreams discussed for an almost complete renovation, my husband, brilliant man that he is, placed a single dot of black permanent marker on the side of our house.
I saw him do it.
And then I moved on. You see my Dave is a man of few words. This I will tell you has been an area of great challenge to me. But over the years I have learned, that few words doesn't mean few thoughts....Know what I mean? I have, however, learned that in order to sometimes "hear" those thoughts, I need to stop speaking and watch him. Pay attention to what he is doing even if no words come with it. You see, if I had seen something on the wall, made a conclusion about it and....placed a dot, I would have TOLD him. I would have called a friend and talked about it, researched on-line to confirm it, (maybe) prayed about it and then probably made the dot, bigger and darker (and in a cool color to match something) to publicity affirm it, and then...(maybe) gloated about my wisdom...But not Dave. He just stood looking at the brick wall, drew his Sharpie "sword", struck... and walked away.
Over the next few months, construction began and one day I pulled up to the house, and I heard it...That sound...chink, chink, chink. I saw Dave and his brother, digging with shovels and picking with pick axes around the base of the corner of the house. Oh, no. You see, the renovations and the money for them, were for the inside of the house. Aside from paint, there were NO plans (or money) for outside renovations. To add to it....I wanted IN!! Because the "reno" was in every room, we were continuing to live in our rental and all I saw was dollar signs and a ticking clock as we now paid a mortgage, rent, and everything that goes with that. No. This was not in the budget. So I walked over to where they were, trying not to sigh too loud or stomp my feet. I was informed that it was about The Dot. Dave, my detail oriented, non-emotional guy had been watching The Dot and... it had moved. Not once or twice, but far enough away from its original position that it whispered to him a secret about what was or actually what was not underneath the house. It appeared that as the house was being built, the original builder, somehow forgot (?) to pour a footer. For those of you who don't know the terminology, a footer, basically, is a concrete support that helps hold the house up. Without this, the house slowly over time will begin to....lean. And then little by little, brick by brick... fall. What Dave, and his eagle eye, had seen was a hairline crack in the brick of our house. He knew the possible implications, used The Dot to mark the crack, and waited to see if the hint of a problem actually was a lurking crisis . And now here Dave and Jonathan were, already waist deep, digging out by hand, 5 feet of dirt and rocks around the corner of our house...
I know I could go couple of different ways with this story, but I think I will just stick with the original thought The Lord woke me with this morning so bare with me...
As might have guessed, I am talking about the of the importance of foundations. My intention is not to re-write what you already know but to maybe just open it a little wider. So here goes...
You see, for all long time I thought I had done that "foundation" part. Plan, check. Dig out the dirt, check. Gather your materials and crew, check, check. And then, build, Build, BUILD!! (Check, check, check.) So I proceeded feeling pretty secure in the "foundation'.....and then, perhaps over time, I forgot it was even there. Maybe, even forgot all the work it took to build it in the first place. AND the fact that a forgotten element, intentional or not, WILL at some point, cause the rest to fall.
I found myself securely standing at the top of a hill looking down over all the trials, challenges and decisions I had made thus far and felt pretty....proud. Great husband, great kids, great job. Check. And then that sound...that quiet little sound.
Are you with me?
With a house, and with us, all you see is what’s up "above" and to be honest, it looks pretty dang good! But slowly God in his infinite wisdom and timing, slowly reveals, in a whisper, or maybe with a simple watched dot, that perhaps that foundation isn’t actually complete. And then one day, in a quiet moment, you hear it...Chink. chink. chink. Or feel it as the earth under your feet vibrates with the deep notes of change...And you realize that all you knew to be true and trusted really was not The TRUTH.
After the first shudder of fear, and mind spinning "I'm not in control feeling", you remember the One who IS in control and the One you trust. The One you believe and that your God is not a God of fear! That change is actually a "holy shifting"! It is really what it means to be a child of His! To believe that we are finished, done or complete means we are no longer open, humbled or laying prostrate before Him and His promise of our future and His total, mind blowing love for us.
Not a Crisis but a catalyst.
Dave and Jonathan dug for two days and what looked to me to be a huge, looong, expensive job, with some hard work, and Dave's brilliant know-how, ended up being much easier than I thought.
Now, I don't want to elude that foundation work is easy, but don't we look at most issues and see huge, loong and expensive? Or maybe painful, time consuming, and fruitless? Because in reality, even if our foundation problem was going to be all these things, what were we going to do? Walk away? Let the house slowly go under?
Okay, Kelly. I hear you. But how does all this fit into a blog about your journey of becoming a midwife?
So here it is....Over the past few months (years?) of moving towards making this decision, I have had to admit that I had been hearing that "chink, chink" sound and had been hearing it for a while. Because I have lived a life of being on-call in a very emotional, physical, and intimate profession as a birth assistant, and know what that entails, the decision to take the next step has been somewhat like standing on the edge of a cliff, jumping and free falling... I will admit it....I don't like heights, jumping now challenges my 43 year old bladder, and free falling? Without certain medications in my system, I think not.
But....I love a pregnant belly. I yearn for the music of labour, and the magic that comes with it. The sweetness of a newborns first breath and the joy of witnessing the birth of a family. Most of all, I love having the privilege of being in a front row seat, seeing God's hand orchestrate what He created and the absolute purity and miracle of it all.
Now I see that as He reveals my role of allowing Him to do His job of planner, builder, and restorer, that the cliff really isn’t a cliff at all..and that my foundation begins and ends with Him...
Do you hear it?
Chink, chink, chink...
The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house; yet it did not fall, because it had its foundation on the rock.
Matthew 7:24-26
In 2005 My husband Dave and I bought a house. Our first house after years of "to cheap to not be renting", in an area where housing prices were sky rocketing faster than our pay checks could or wanted to keep up with.
"Can you all fit in this house?", our good friend and realtor asked, as we made our way through all 1,000 (?) square feet of what was to end up as our new home. Built in the 1950s, our ranch style, brick house was teeny....and dirty...and smelly. "C" had good reason to ask that question, although I am sure what he was really thinking was "Why would you want to fit into this house?". After renting for so long, we had many years of built up home ownership envy and had had plenty of time to renovate, plan and decorate many houses in our mind's eye (s). Plus, this house came with deeded access to the Shenandoah River and had a POOL! Heck! If we couldn't fit, we would just sprout gills and learn to live in the water!
As plans were drawn up, and dreams discussed for an almost complete renovation, my husband, brilliant man that he is, placed a single dot of black permanent marker on the side of our house.
I saw him do it.
And then I moved on. You see my Dave is a man of few words. This I will tell you has been an area of great challenge to me. But over the years I have learned, that few words doesn't mean few thoughts....Know what I mean? I have, however, learned that in order to sometimes "hear" those thoughts, I need to stop speaking and watch him. Pay attention to what he is doing even if no words come with it. You see, if I had seen something on the wall, made a conclusion about it and....placed a dot, I would have TOLD him. I would have called a friend and talked about it, researched on-line to confirm it, (maybe) prayed about it and then probably made the dot, bigger and darker (and in a cool color to match something) to publicity affirm it, and then...(maybe) gloated about my wisdom...But not Dave. He just stood looking at the brick wall, drew his Sharpie "sword", struck... and walked away.
Over the next few months, construction began and one day I pulled up to the house, and I heard it...That sound...chink, chink, chink. I saw Dave and his brother, digging with shovels and picking with pick axes around the base of the corner of the house. Oh, no. You see, the renovations and the money for them, were for the inside of the house. Aside from paint, there were NO plans (or money) for outside renovations. To add to it....I wanted IN!! Because the "reno" was in every room, we were continuing to live in our rental and all I saw was dollar signs and a ticking clock as we now paid a mortgage, rent, and everything that goes with that. No. This was not in the budget. So I walked over to where they were, trying not to sigh too loud or stomp my feet. I was informed that it was about The Dot. Dave, my detail oriented, non-emotional guy had been watching The Dot and... it had moved. Not once or twice, but far enough away from its original position that it whispered to him a secret about what was or actually what was not underneath the house. It appeared that as the house was being built, the original builder, somehow forgot (?) to pour a footer. For those of you who don't know the terminology, a footer, basically, is a concrete support that helps hold the house up. Without this, the house slowly over time will begin to....lean. And then little by little, brick by brick... fall. What Dave, and his eagle eye, had seen was a hairline crack in the brick of our house. He knew the possible implications, used The Dot to mark the crack, and waited to see if the hint of a problem actually was a lurking crisis . And now here Dave and Jonathan were, already waist deep, digging out by hand, 5 feet of dirt and rocks around the corner of our house...
I know I could go couple of different ways with this story, but I think I will just stick with the original thought The Lord woke me with this morning so bare with me...
As might have guessed, I am talking about the of the importance of foundations. My intention is not to re-write what you already know but to maybe just open it a little wider. So here goes...
You see, for all long time I thought I had done that "foundation" part. Plan, check. Dig out the dirt, check. Gather your materials and crew, check, check. And then, build, Build, BUILD!! (Check, check, check.) So I proceeded feeling pretty secure in the "foundation'.....and then, perhaps over time, I forgot it was even there. Maybe, even forgot all the work it took to build it in the first place. AND the fact that a forgotten element, intentional or not, WILL at some point, cause the rest to fall.
I found myself securely standing at the top of a hill looking down over all the trials, challenges and decisions I had made thus far and felt pretty....proud. Great husband, great kids, great job. Check. And then that sound...that quiet little sound.
Are you with me?
With a house, and with us, all you see is what’s up "above" and to be honest, it looks pretty dang good! But slowly God in his infinite wisdom and timing, slowly reveals, in a whisper, or maybe with a simple watched dot, that perhaps that foundation isn’t actually complete. And then one day, in a quiet moment, you hear it...Chink. chink. chink. Or feel it as the earth under your feet vibrates with the deep notes of change...And you realize that all you knew to be true and trusted really was not The TRUTH.
After the first shudder of fear, and mind spinning "I'm not in control feeling", you remember the One who IS in control and the One you trust. The One you believe and that your God is not a God of fear! That change is actually a "holy shifting"! It is really what it means to be a child of His! To believe that we are finished, done or complete means we are no longer open, humbled or laying prostrate before Him and His promise of our future and His total, mind blowing love for us.
Not a Crisis but a catalyst.
Dave and Jonathan dug for two days and what looked to me to be a huge, looong, expensive job, with some hard work, and Dave's brilliant know-how, ended up being much easier than I thought.
Now, I don't want to elude that foundation work is easy, but don't we look at most issues and see huge, loong and expensive? Or maybe painful, time consuming, and fruitless? Because in reality, even if our foundation problem was going to be all these things, what were we going to do? Walk away? Let the house slowly go under?
Okay, Kelly. I hear you. But how does all this fit into a blog about your journey of becoming a midwife?
So here it is....Over the past few months (years?) of moving towards making this decision, I have had to admit that I had been hearing that "chink, chink" sound and had been hearing it for a while. Because I have lived a life of being on-call in a very emotional, physical, and intimate profession as a birth assistant, and know what that entails, the decision to take the next step has been somewhat like standing on the edge of a cliff, jumping and free falling... I will admit it....I don't like heights, jumping now challenges my 43 year old bladder, and free falling? Without certain medications in my system, I think not.
But....I love a pregnant belly. I yearn for the music of labour, and the magic that comes with it. The sweetness of a newborns first breath and the joy of witnessing the birth of a family. Most of all, I love having the privilege of being in a front row seat, seeing God's hand orchestrate what He created and the absolute purity and miracle of it all.
Now I see that as He reveals my role of allowing Him to do His job of planner, builder, and restorer, that the cliff really isn’t a cliff at all..and that my foundation begins and ends with Him...
Do you hear it?
Chink, chink, chink...
The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house; yet it did not fall, because it had its foundation on the rock.
Matthew 7:24-26
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
Pushed....
Well here I am. An officially registered midwifery student. I always said I would do this when the law changed and since that happened (some time ago), I'm finally pushing...
Seven months ago I attended a friend, at the delivery of her fifth child. This was her third birth at home with me as her birth assistant . Little did I know that the Lord would use this birth, out of ALL the others, to proclaim my next step.
I have been a childbirth educator, hospital labor support (Doula) and birth assistant to midwives for over 18 years. And I have been happy there. Happy to have a "career" that has come so naturally to me. Happy to have had a "career" that offered a certain level of flexibility so that I could be at home with my girls and provide a needed monetary cushion for our family. Happy to be...happy!
As a little girl, all I wanted as an adult was to be a mommy, a teacher and have my hands in "birth". And thats exactly where the Lord put me! In spite of all my "fleshly" choices, with the birth of my first daughter, he slowly revealed to me His plan for my life.
Beauty from ashes...His promise to us....
Being raised in the country, gave me lots of opportunities to experience birth even if it was only from the perspective of being a "midwife" to a loved cat, dog or a very fertile hamster. My Aunt Winnie had an enormous impact on cultivating my natural interest in pregnancy, birth, and babies. When I was 7, she gave birth to her first daughter and invited me in her life as an active participant in all care of her newborn. Her faith in me at such a young age built my confidence; my love for it all continued to grow with the births of her next 2 girls.
When I was 16, a good friend of mine became pregnant and it seemed to be a natural thing for me to come along beside her. From the beginning, I became her "mentor" in all aspects from helping her tell her parents, to translating information about pregnancy and then delivery to her. Unfortunately, the hospital would not allow me in with her...."It’s no place for a teenager." I was told. So I camped outside her labor room for hours on end and performed as a “Hallway Doula” with the only thing I could do; pray and throw words of encouragement through the open doorway as the nurses came and went. After Josh's birth I continued to support and mentor my friend. All the tools I had learned by apprenticing at my aunt's side, finally landed, as I showed my naive friend how to prepare bottles, (I couldn't convince her to breastfeed...), give baths to her newborn, and become a mother at the young age of 15.
In 1996, I met a doctor at a birth who offered to have me come to his office to be his "nurse". This very willing and generous man allowed me to apprentice him in his solo OBGYN practice. Not having any technical education, he taught me everything from taking blood pressure, drawing blood, reading external fetal heart monitors and occasionally checking cervixes. I also “ran” the lab and exam rooms and helped Dr. S. open another office and interview midwives to add to his practice.
**Thanks Kim and Boden.
Seven months ago I attended a friend, at the delivery of her fifth child. This was her third birth at home with me as her birth assistant . Little did I know that the Lord would use this birth, out of ALL the others, to proclaim my next step.
I have been a childbirth educator, hospital labor support (Doula) and birth assistant to midwives for over 18 years. And I have been happy there. Happy to have a "career" that has come so naturally to me. Happy to have had a "career" that offered a certain level of flexibility so that I could be at home with my girls and provide a needed monetary cushion for our family. Happy to be...happy!
As a little girl, all I wanted as an adult was to be a mommy, a teacher and have my hands in "birth". And thats exactly where the Lord put me! In spite of all my "fleshly" choices, with the birth of my first daughter, he slowly revealed to me His plan for my life.
Beauty from ashes...His promise to us....
My path to becoming a midwife really began as a little girl as I heard the story of my younger brother's birth. When I was eighteen months old, my brother Scott, "Scotty" to me, was accidentally born at home. So often I heard the story of how my dad held me in his arms as we watched Scotty's entrance, that I have always been able to picture it in my mind's eye. Scotty and I became instantly bonded. Whether it was witnessing his arrival into the world, our close age, or the fact that we both have red hair in a family of dark hair and eyed parents, I don't know. Probably all of it together!
Being raised in the country, gave me lots of opportunities to experience birth even if it was only from the perspective of being a "midwife" to a loved cat, dog or a very fertile hamster. My Aunt Winnie had an enormous impact on cultivating my natural interest in pregnancy, birth, and babies. When I was 7, she gave birth to her first daughter and invited me in her life as an active participant in all care of her newborn. Her faith in me at such a young age built my confidence; my love for it all continued to grow with the births of her next 2 girls.
When I was 16, a good friend of mine became pregnant and it seemed to be a natural thing for me to come along beside her. From the beginning, I became her "mentor" in all aspects from helping her tell her parents, to translating information about pregnancy and then delivery to her. Unfortunately, the hospital would not allow me in with her...."It’s no place for a teenager." I was told. So I camped outside her labor room for hours on end and performed as a “Hallway Doula” with the only thing I could do; pray and throw words of encouragement through the open doorway as the nurses came and went. After Josh's birth I continued to support and mentor my friend. All the tools I had learned by apprenticing at my aunt's side, finally landed, as I showed my naive friend how to prepare bottles, (I couldn't convince her to breastfeed...), give baths to her newborn, and become a mother at the young age of 15.
At the age of 18 and the casualty of divorce, I met and fell in love with my wonderful husband. At the age of 19 (Dave 26), and as we were preparing for a big wedding, we learned we were expecting. Earlier than we had planned, but welcome all the same, I knew in my heart that God had prepared me for this all along. After experiencing through my friends birth how a hospital could control your birth experience, I knew that was not how it was going to be for me. During this time my Aunt Winnie discovered that she too was expecting her fourth baby! Our children would be born two months apart and again we were partners in the nursery, only this time I had a baby of my own!
Luckily, Dave and I found a wonderful, Bradley instructor. Her encouragement and education began to nurture the seed of my future. On July 31st, our beautiful daughter, and "Bradley" baby, Molly Grace was born after 24 hours of demoralizing back labor. Hard, yet powerful, I learned so much and it bonded us tightly. At 23, Molly is an absolute joy, and she and I are still tightly woven. Over the next 4 years, as I navigated marriage and motherhood, the pull to be involved somehow with birth remained. I decided to pursue being a childbirth educator; Bradley seemed the obvious place to start. I taught classes out of my home and simultaneously began offering labor support free of charge. With only my personal experience, instincts and brief education, I forged through a very closed-minded local hospital and birth by birth gained the respect of the nurses and doctors.
In 1996, I met a doctor at a birth who offered to have me come to his office to be his "nurse". This very willing and generous man allowed me to apprentice him in his solo OBGYN practice. Not having any technical education, he taught me everything from taking blood pressure, drawing blood, reading external fetal heart monitors and occasionally checking cervixes. I also “ran” the lab and exam rooms and helped Dr. S. open another office and interview midwives to add to his practice.
During this time I attended as many births as possible, training others along the way, and eventually transitioned into birth assisting for various midwives. I attended ALACE training, became certified in Neonatal Resuscitation and worked toward certification with DONA. I was an active member of La Leche League and entertained leadership but didn't have enough time! In 1994, I gave birth to our second, precious daughter, Kendall. Her birth began as a home birth and ended as a transfer to the hospital after 4 days of labor and failure to progress. Not as I planned but the experience only added to my "resume". After Kendall's birth, I knew I was suppose to return home to home school the girls and did so. At this time I began my own business. I specialized in private childbirth education classes, breastfeeding counseling, homebirth, birth assisting, and hospital labor support. In addition, I re-wrote a childbirth curriculum geared towards Dr. S's patients and offered classes exclusively to them at his office in the evenings. Eventually word got out that my classes were not the run of the mill childbirth classes and due to much interest, opened enrollment to others.
In 1998, I gave birth, this time at home, to another beautiful daughter Emma, with wonderful Certified Nurse Midwife in a practice I assisted. I continued doing all the above until 1999. Dr. S. moved his office and I decided to slow down and only offer classes to private clients. Although only having actually delivered a small number of babies on my own, I have attended approximately 500 deliveries.
I have had the experience of being with single women, scared teenagers, women with strong marriages and women in weak ones. Women with wanted babies and unwanted. I have attended adoption births and been with husband and wives as they have held there dying or still born babies. The most apparent thing to me then and now is that when a woman or girl is in the process of giving birth, regardless of the situation, that as a supporter I have the opportunity to put their hand in the hand of God’s as they move through what some think of as a time of “crisis”, instead into the reality of embracing it as a time of “catalyst”... I have the privilege of watching families being born, relationships mended, and joy being birthed right before my very eyes.
So humbled am I....
I have continued to offer labor support and birth assisting but have “reeled” in quite a bit as the needs of my family and my health have needed attention from me that I could not give while running at that pace. The Lord has used the last few years to transition me from one Life to another. He has helped me re-examine my priorities and relationships and to make sure they are in order. Now I can see why He did this when he did.
What has come very naturally to me from the first time I witnessed birth as a baby myself, to delivering my own children and helping with the delivery of others, I have realized it is, to sound very cliché, a calling that only some receive. I used to think all women had this within themselves and you choose it or not, but now I know it chooses you and that I have been chosen.
As I move to yet another level of this process, I am excited to see what will be added to my journey, where it will take me. I have faith in the fact that God has had His plan for me mapped out since the beginning. I know I can trust that as I walk by faith, He will carry me and all I have to do is obediently let Him do it!
At this point I am in continual prayer about where this journey will take me. I can imagine all kinds of scenarios! I know I can trust what God has shown me over the last few years about myself and who I am in Him. He will, as well, show me through His word, Dave, and others that He has placed in my life for this purpose, the direction I should go. I am learning to gather “manna for today” and trusting that He will provide for tomorrow.
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