Daddy is getting more serious about what I eat this week.
When I don’t eat what I’m supposed to, my tummy hurts. When I eat what’s on the list He gave me, it doesn’t.
He calls it a feeding schedule. Sometimes it seems limiting, but really it’s a big blessing.
I’m still teething. Now it’s teeth on the other side of my mouth that hurt.
I think I’m going through — or I’m about to go through — a growth spurt.
Yesterday, I brought a friend’s book with me to work. Crazy Love by Francis Chan. I tried to read it before, but never really got into it.
It was like sitting down with someone from heaven — I don’t know, John maybe — he likes me — and having them tell me, “It’s like this.”
And it never hurts to have your perspective on who God is and how infinitely Big He Is Compared To You adjusted every once in a while. And put the brakes on the beginnings of pride. With a healthy dose of humility. It’s not like I acted on anything or told my Daddy, “Hey, I’m better off without You,” but I made sure those confusing emotions couldn’t do me any damage.
It was like somebody wrote the book just for me.
Last night, I read a part in the book that retells the parable of the sower. Some seeds fall on rocky ground. Some seeds fall in thorns. Some seeds fall on good soil.
The author’s warning do not assume you are planted in good soil rang prophetic.
And maybe we shouldn’t be planted in good soil all the time, or at least with a path of least resistance toward the sun. I’m a sunflower learning to follow the sun. At some point, something in the garden is going to get in the way of me seeing the sun… so what do I do? Give up?
You grow. You grow through the thorns.
You fight for what’s right. You pray. You struggle. You cry. You trust. You have faith.
I had no idea that today’s gospel reading was the exact same thing. Think of the odds.
God’s up to something.
Friday night I got a message from a friend I haven’t heard from in almost a year. After bouncing from one living situation to another, she confronted an addiction head on and was released from treatment that morning, then made her first confession and holy communion in years. I humbly beg your prayers for her as she works to put her life back together and for those of us trying our best to surround her with all the love that we can.