“You know what?” I said to my husband. “I just want you to hold me.”
And there I sat, on the couch beside him, head against his chest as he ran his fingers through my hair. Sometimes you just needed to be held.
In the preceding minutes, I had shared with him my feelings. So much was going on, and you know that old saying, “when it rains, it pours?” Well, it kinda felt like that. I had even chuckled at the irony that during my “storm” of circumstances we were also facing an impending Category 3 Hurricane. Something had to give!
I had told my husband, “my faith tells me it’s going to be okay, and I totally believe that too. But sometimes faith feels heavy.”
What I meant by that was, I believed God would take care of us. In the midst of looming unemployment, I knew He held us in His hands. With bills falling behind, I knew His plans were to prosper us. With so many darn things I had zero control over (a hurricane coming while my only shelter was an RV just being one of), I still knew God was in control. He had proven His faithfulness to me time and time again, miraculously so. In the Old Testament they used to erect altars made of stone where God had done something miraculous. They called them Stones of Remembrance, and I had so many stones leading down the path of my past that I never looked back in regret. I would only trip over the tried and true trail of rocks behind me. My point being, I believed in the deepest part of my heart and soul that God was good, and He would work all things for my good. Yet…
