Why We Say What We Say...

Someone asked me recently why we say "It's how God made you" to Will.   We've been asked if teaching our children that "Jesus loves them" might make them question a loving God who can allow children to be born with disabilities.  Actually, we're asked this quite a bit.  We've also had people try to warn us that this may make them angry at God someday.  


Quite frankly, if he wants to get angry at God someday, I think he will, regardless of what we say or don't say.


Also quite frankly, I can't predict my child's response to God as they get older.  I can pray for a particular response and outcome but that is between my child and God ultimately.


And even more, God can handle anger.  (See:  David in the Psalms.)


He created our emotions and I'm confident He can handle them just fine, without my assistance.


So why do we say that to either of our children, both with obvious physical differences or disabilities?  Are we somehow setting them up for anger at God?  Are we setting them for confused theology?  Should we just leave God out of the deal?


I don't really know and I can't predict the future.


Here's what I do know.


When we were pregnant with Will and we learned he would have some major medical issues and obvious physical differences, this was an issue we confronted early on.  As I studied so many complications with my baby, I also was studying so many scriptures about what God says about a baby in the womb. (See Psalm 139 and Jer 1 and even Luke 1)


And we also discussed how we would teach our children and raise our children - if they didn't have any known medical conditions.  Would we tell our child that Jesus loved them?   Of course we would!  Would we tell our child that God made them?  Would we tell Sunday school teachers or preschool teachers to skip over our child when they do their unit on "God made me" and highlight each child to be the child of the week and teach about the parts of the body and how we are all special?  Should our child not be included in that lesson?  Of course not!


It seems so simplistic, doesn't it?


I never hesitated to think that I would tell a child that God made them.  So why would I treat my own child any differently, simply because he has a physical difference?


We determined that we wanted to raise our child as much as possible in a "normal" way and that this truth applied to all children.  We wouldn't somehow avoid telling our child this in an effort to avoid potential room for future anger and bitterness.  We believed all children were made by God and our child was no exception.


And we also dealt with the question of how we would have responded had our child been diagnosed later with a disability.  Does a parent who teaches their child "God made you" or "Jesus loves you" because they seem typical suddenly change their mantra if the child is diagnosed at age 5 with a disability?  Do they suddenly turn quiet and stop telling their child they are made by a loving God?


We determined that if our child was born "typical" but we discovered later that he had a disability, we wouldn't suddenly change what we believe to be truth - that he remains created by a loving God.


He is not an accident.  He is made with intention and purpose.


And because at heart I'm a research junkie, I then questioned every single parent I could find with a child with a difference and asked them what they told their child.  A few stuck to the phrase, "it's how you were born" but for the most part, most said that for their small child, a simple "It's how God made you" worked.  


A ten year old is going to ask for more in depth answers I'm sure but for a little kid, this has worked.


And ultimately, here's the deal.


I don't get to know all the details.  My little human brain which with each pregnancy has lost more brain cells (does mommy brain ever go away?!) can not fully grasp our God.  


Job 11:7-8 says,
 “Can you fathom the mysteries of God?
   Can you probe the limits of the Almighty?
They are higher than the heavens above—what can you do?
   They are deeper than the depths below—what can you know?"


I can't fully fathom His mysteries and I'm not about to place limits on Him.  I don't understand the science or medicine behind our situation.  (Neither do many of our nations' top medical minds.)  But I don't have to either.


I don't know why God chose our family for this unique road.  I don't know why my children have such obvious challenges, and in some cases, face greater challenges than others will ever know.  


I don't know why we get to experience such depth of pain and height of joy.  


Sometimes, I often think that we are the lucky ones.  We are the ones who see scripture lived out as we are forced to see our own human weaknesses, our own inadequacies.  We are aware of our need for God and our dependence on Him.  And our children are incredible judges of character.  Their little characters are being refined in ways I could have never imagined.


I know that in John 9, Jesus tells his disciples that a man's disability has purpose  - to bring glory to God.  I believe He values our response to life's challenges far more than we realize.  I believe He wants us to choose joy.  I believe He wants us to find ways to praise Him and to bring Him glory through what others believe should bring us down.


I don't know why my children were born with differences.  I don't know that I will ever fully understand.  And I'm not sure it even matters - my response to it is what matters.  


I do know that I wouldn't change them.  And I won't shield them from the truth out of fear.  He made them.  He loves them.


Having a differently formed body doesn't signify that He loves them less or that He made only people who are "typically" formed.  


I don't understand His mysteries.  But I do know that He fiercely, fiercely loves my children and He takes pride in His creations.  I suppose that is where faith enters the picture.  I believe Scripture that tells me He forms each of us in the womb.  I know enough of His character to know He loves us and He wants the best for us, He can be trusted, He is consistent and faithful, He is full of mercy and grace.  And I know too that He is to be feared and He is to be trusted.  My human mind may never comprehend Him fully or His ways - but I can trust Him, even on the hard days and the painful moments where my soul cries out "why."  Somewhere, in the middle there, where the grayness of His mysteriousness meets the clarity of what I know, is where we often find ourselves.


So, yes, we say "Jesus loves you."  We say, "God made you" to our children... just like we would to any other child on this planet.

Receiving Grace

Serve wholeheartedly, as if you were serving the Lord, not men, because you know that the Lord will reward everyone for whatever good he does, whether he is slave or free.

Ephesians 6:7-8

Your attitude should be the same as that of Christ Jesus:

Who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant...

Philippians 2: 5--7

In the last 4 years, we have been humbled to receive grace from others.  We have been wholeheartedly served by so many from all over.

During this recent spica season, when so much was required for Ellie's care, we received a concentrated dose of extra service.

We are humbled and so grateful.

I have been asked often of late how these months of Ellie in a spica and moving have been.

To be honest, I completely dreaded spica season.

But, my response to that question?

It has been good.  It has been far better than I ever imagined.

Good?

How has having a baby in body cast been good?

Because others have served our family, caring for Ellie, while time consuming and difficult at times, has been manageable.  Actually, it has been more than manageable.  This has been a good season for our family.

Because others have served our family, I have found time to just be mommy or wife, rather than always a caregiver.

Because others have served our family, I found brief moments of respite - time to walk outside with a friend and feel refreshed and reenergized  - because someone was inside with Ellie doing her cast care.

Because others have served our family and provided meals, I haven't fallen prey to the temptation to serve frozen, prepackaged meals or order pizza or carryout every night.  I love to cook but with moving and cast care, I simply don't have the time to cook nightly.  With meals three nights a week, I have been able to count on homemade, nutritious meals for our family.  And I've been able to significantly decrease the amount of trips to the store I would have to make - trips spent wearing Ellie on me as she doesn't fit in a cart.

Because others have served our family and provided cast care, I can spend a little time being a mommy to Will, take a walk with a friend, do the dishes, return a phone call, take a shower, or even just comfort Ellie, rather than always being the one to inflict discomfort on her.  I get tired of always being the one to hold her for shots or xrays, to do her stretches and therapy, to force her into uncomfortable positions, to do her cast care, to do her taping, to hand her off for surgery and be with her upon waking.  It's nice to sometimes just be her mommy and let someone else do the unfun stuff.

Because others have served our family and done diaper prep, I could spend the time I would have spent cutting and taping poise pads with our family.

Because others have cast cooled Ellie, she was comforted and I found a little bit of time to escape cast care - to find a glimpse of "normal" 

Because my mom has helped out with middle of the night cast care, I have gotten more nights of sleep than I anticipated three months ago.

Because people have reached out to serve us and practiced hospitality, we have made new friends and, again, received a respite from cast care.

Because others have served us and come over to hold Ellie, my back and arms have received little breaks!

Because others served our family and packed up much of our home, we were able to survive a move with small children (& one in a spica cast) without killing each other.

Because my inlaws served us by driving a car for us across Texas to  our new home, I was able to fly with the children.... rather than drive alone with two children.  Can you imagine if I would have had to do Ellie's cast care routine on the side of I-20 every two hours?  Not to mention if there would have been a diarrhea disaster!?!

Because my parents have served us, we have been able to live with them while looking for a new house.    They have opened their home to us and helped immensely with children and cast care.  And, they've even partially moved out of their home to the lake (on weekends) so that we can have family time just the four of us.

Because my mom has taken many of the 3:30am cast care times, I have been able to sleep more nights than I anticipated I would going into this.

Because friends have gone out of their way to serve me by dropping off or mailing  little surprises (my favorite drinks, a cd, fun duck tape for cast care, a spica outfit for Ellie, muffins, etc.) we have found ourselves smiling - even on hard days.  And sometimes, just knowing someone was thinking about us and recognized that this was a particualarly difficult season, was so comforting and eased our sense of loneliness.

We have been served with emails and phone calls and texts just to check on us - and no expectations that we return those in a timely manner and grace for days when we completely forget to respond at all.

We have been served by others opening up their homes to host Will for playdates.  This has given me time to do the more time intensive labor of cast care (taping & moleskin) and it lets Will have fun and run off energy.  

I would generally say I am a very independent person.  I don't like to admit to needing help.

But.

For the past four years, I have learned how to accept help.  I have learned how to receive grace.  

I think that perhaps the biggest testament to the love of God we can give is when we serve others wholeheartedly, expecting nothing in return.

The body of Christ has served our family.

We are so thankful to so many who have served us:

those who have lovingly cooked for us

those who have lovingly cast cooled Ellie

those who have lovingly held her or rocked her so I could get something done

those who have sent us fun little surprises

those who have humbled themselves to cut and tape Poise pads

those who have hosted Will for playdates

those who have come over to play with Will and Ellie 

those who have kept Ellie so I could go for a walk with Will and friends

those who have given of their time, their money, their sleep (thanks mom!), their creativity, and their love to serve our family

It's exactly what I think Paul meant when he instructed us to be like Jesus the servant.

(***disclaimer - I've tried to take lots of pictures of those who have served us... but, sadly, they were on my phone that met its untimely demise  recently.  Sorry!)

From the bottom of our hearts, thank you.  Because of you, this time with our baby girl in a spica cast has been far better than we ever imagined possible!

And, just for fun?

Might I make some suggestions?

Perhaps you know a family in crisis.  Perhaps you know a family that could use some practical help for a season.  Maybe you are in the throes of crisis yourself. 

Looking for some practical ways to serve others that we have found especially helpful?

• meals - www.takethemameal.com - my friend, Sarah B., from our church in West Texas found this site & used it to coordinate meals.  It was great!  It emails participants reminders and allows them to sign up online to take a meal to a family.  It also provides participants and the recipients with a menu so you know exactly what you are getting when (& so givers know if you've already had lasagna or spaghetti or taco salad or whatever three times that week.)  When we moved, my mom copied Sarah & used that site with their friends and sunday school class that were offering meals.  We used it also for people to sign up to volunteer time for cast care.  It's really quite helpful!  I believe it is also free!

•    respite care - When a family is in a crisis sort of situation, offer respite. (I hate  the word, "crisis" - I just can't think of another word to describe this season that is even more involved than our typical life of managing life with two kids with medical needs.)  Offer to sit with a patient to give a caregiver a break.  Tell the caregiver, lovingly, that they need a shower & force them to take one!  Force them outside for a walk - it does wonders for the soul and can quickly refresh someone.  Take their children for a little while.  Give them a brief break.
• 
  
• creativity - When a family is in crisis, offer creativity.  Drop off something to cheer them up like a favorite drink, a starbucks coffee, a good book, a hot lunch, a cd, a funny card to give them a laugh, etc.  Running through Sonic?  Grab one for a friend in need & drop it off on the porch - text them to let them know - it's 15 minutes of your day but may bring them a smile to be thought of.  One of my favorite things was when people came up with ideas for Will and I to do together and then made it happen.  When I am too tired and out of creativity, I have depended on others who have come up with ideas for activities for Will and I.  People like Susan or Haley gave of their time to research ( & purchase) clothes made for spicas and fun duct tape for cast care.  I can't tell you how much joy it has brought me to make this spica a bit more fun with colorful tape!  I have been so grateful for clothes that fit her cast and are soft and comfortable for sleep.  Send a card - just a "thinking about you" kind of card or even an email or text.  Sometimes, these seemingly little gestures are so significant - they let the recipient know they (& their crisis) are not forgotten.  They can perk someone up on a hard day and remind them they are not alone.
   These aren't necessary to helping a family survive a crisis.  But, this can help a family thrive in crisis.  
• talents - Use your talents.  Terrible cook and no interest in providing a meal?  No free time or have small children and so unable to offer respite?  But, perhaps you have a skill you can offer?  Perhaps you can sew like our friends Bonnie & Christie who made special spica dresses for Ellie.  
• Help with Life- I've also appreciated people who stopped by for brief little periods of time - willing to just do something - fold towels, pack boxes, quickly do a load of dishes, etc.  A huge help for me has been someone to run errands for me.  I have taken my kids on errands and to the grocery store while Ellie is in a spica.  It's doable.  But it is hard.  She doesn't fit in the grocery cart & her car seat isn't removable so I must wear her in my carrier.  I love my carrier and am thankful to have found one to fit her in spica but it's not a good fit - the spica makes it awkward.  So, while it does hold her & therefore frees up my hands to push the cart, it's taxing.  Essentially, my back pain which is concentrated generally one area from holding her in spica so much, is just distributed more evenly. :)  Going to the store with both kids involves me wearing her & Will wearing prosthetics  and me preparing myself for the idiot checkout girl (sorry - sore spot) who asks how I broke my baby's legs... it's a doable thing... it's just hard.  I have been so thankful for those who have emailed me that they are headed to the store the next day - I email them a list and they drop by my groceries & I write a check.   (A friend once shared with me that she grocery shopped for a friend in crisis for a whole year & her friend wrote thousands of dollars in checks to her that year.)

Even when a family is in some sort of crisis, life still goes on around them - picking up their dry cleaning, groceries, filling the car up with gas or getting the oil changed, taking the animals to the vet, just errands of life, can be so helpful.  Stopping by someone's house to pick up laundry to fold at your own home & at your own convenience  - this can be a huge help.  Many of these ideas can be done on the schedule of the giver.  

• Don't ask.  I am often too tired to know what I may or may  not need help with in upcoming days.   I also don't want to feel like I am overusing or abusing someone's generosity or willingness to help.  Plus, I never know how much someone is willing to do.  I don't want anyone to ever feel obligated to do something for us. So, rather than saying, "Please let me know what I can do to help," and making the recipient think of something while not really knowing how much time you have to offer or what skills you have to offer, tell them what you are willing to do.  Set boundaries for yourself and make a practical offer of help within those boundaries.  I loved when someone would say, "I can pack boxes from 10am-noon on Thursday."  Or, "I can come do cast care at 9am on Monday."  Because they were setting their own boundaries, I never felt like I was abusing someone's generosity in those cases.  Plus, it took the burden off of me to feel like I had to create something for someone to do - or to come up with an idea of the top of my head.  By far one of the most helpful things for me was knowing that people had set their boundaries and were offering what they were comfortable giving.  
• Be on call.  Maybe you can't offer specific help or a specific time frame but you are willing to be on call for someone.  Let them know that in case of emergency or a desperate need (like Ellie's diarrhea disasters - these were obviously unplanned and I couldn't really do them alone.)  And if you get called at an inconvenient time, take the burden off of the person in need by working to find someone else to help.  Just knowing you can be depended on when crisis comes up within a crisis meets a huge need.
• Give grace  - heaping loads of it.  I have been a terrible friend/sister/daughter/daughter in law/church member, etc for months and months.  I have depended on others for so much and haven't really been able to give back to anyone.  I have been tired - so tired.  I have been wrapped up in taking care of my children and have often had little time for others.  I forget to return calls or emails.  I send birthday cards late.

And yet, my friends and family have so often given me grace.  They have recognized our circumstances are beyond ordinary and they have given me grace - they have released  expectations on me and I am so thankful.  Know that there may be days and times when the family needs your help and other days when they don't - give them grace to say no (& know that they may very well need you the next time!)

Give grace. 

There may be days when they have no idea what they need.  Give grace as they figure it out.

We are to thankful to have received grace upon grace upon grace for the last four years and especially during spica season.

Thank you for serving our family.

Thank you to so many of you who have served us as the hands and feet of Christ.

We are humbled and forever grateful.

Isn't that what Easter is about?

A God who lowered Himself to become man.  A God who served a hurting mankind in crisis, man who thought we could do it on our own, who strive for independence and stubbornly throughout history have tried and failed, this Jesus, He came and served us by dying on a cross to save us with His blood sacrifice.

He gave grace and He gives us grace upon grace upon grace.  He offers us Himself - not only a chance to survive but an opportunity in grace to thrive.

Isn't that the crux of the cross?  

He served us.  In grace, He saved us.

Yes, I think this is what the Body of Christ does in serving others.  We serve because He first served us. We receive grace and we give grace because He gives grace.

Any ideas for how you may have received grace or given it to others during crisis that you can share in the comments below?

I have learned so much from our friends and family and strangers.  Thank you for loving us and serving us, especially during this spica season.

Thankful

Be joyful always; pray continually; give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus.

1 Thessalonians 5:18

 It found its way onto my parent's front porch, delivered by a woman I've known for nearly thirty years, late last summer, just before the birth of our Ellie Girl.

Soft moleskin leather and neatly lined pages, it lay on my bedside table for months, empty and waiting.

 And when the new year rolled around, I suddenly knew.

I knew it's purpose.

To keep me thankful.

To remind me of all He has blessed me with.

To change my perspective on hard days.

 I realized at the first of the year that as my anxiety increased about Ellie's upcoming surgery, that perhaps if I focused on what I could be thankful for  - even in difficult circumstances, that perhaps my anxiety would be lessened.

And, then I read Ann Voskamp's guide to journaling thankfulness and I knew that my little journal had a purpose at last.

I would keep written record of all I was thankful for.

I would seek to find good even in the difficult and painful.

I am refusing to allow the pain of surgery and the challenge of a  spica cast take away from all we are thankful for.

I was challenged once to not let "disability" define me.  At first, I thought of course I would never do that.  But I realized that perhaps that was my pride.  I began to ponder about the term "disability."  I realized that in many ways, it does define us.  I do have a calendar full of of medical appointments.  We did move in part to be closer to our children's specialists.  I do spend time during the day doing therapies and researching doctors and treatments and equipment.  We think about accessibility issues in purchasing a new home.  We purchase specific equipment to aid our children.  It does mean I have friendships with people I would have otherwise never met.  It means our eyes our opened differently.  We are more accepting of differences.  We recognize creativity more easily.  I no longer think that being defined by "disability" is a bad thing.  It's a part of our life and it brings so much good with it.  No different than being defined by "mommy" is a wonderful title - (that also carries with it things like sleeplessness, always on call, a changed body, exhaustion (have I mentioned I'm tired?)...
having "disability" in our lives brings us much to be thankful for.  I am okay with it being one of the many things I am defined by.  I think it makes me recognize my blessings.

Some of the things on my list:

being a family of 4; quiet night nursings; a marriage surviving and thriving despite difficult circumstances; a little boy with curly hair; soft baby skin; a babysitter for a date night; friends that check on me; coffee (or Izze) with a friend late at night; a phone call from a church member with scripture for me as I drive to a hospital for x-rays; a clean dog; my dishwasher; long naps; laughter in our home; playdough on my floor as evidence of play and life; hot showers; friends who affirm me; text messaging; no wires attached to my baby yet; no spica cast for 24 more hours; snow days; cowboys and indians posed for battle - proof of chaos and living in this house; options; simple words "I love you, Mommy", girly high pitched squeals on the baby monitor; old hymns; little boy breath; simplicity of changing diapers for now; nursing in bed; a baby bottom; milk aplenty; back rubs; miracles; rainy days; grace; ariplanes; prosthetics and empowering opportunties; a clean house; giggles; organized closets at last; little boy smell; soft lips; a book to escape to; security in my marriage; iphone; friends who pack for me; being needed by someone; good nappers; freshly bathed babies; prayers of others; others packing boxes; gifted doctors; flights with a sleeping babe; a cast for healing; pink; zebra and leopard duck tape; being present for a lifetime; kissing the precious heads of  souls at the feet of Christ; friends who come when I need them; friends who come when I don't know I need them; an Izze on my front porch; flaming cheese; a sideways sleeping boy; my pillow; ability to distract Ellie from discomfort; meals just when we need them; a cast cooler; a friend doing my grocery shopping; an encouraging text; doctors who have become friends; being a stay at home mom; appointments with doctors that don't include plane flights at last; a church body; women in our home helping us with cast care; friends who affirm me; massages; hills for rolling; tears that are stored in His bottles that are not in vain; hot showers after hard days; rainy days; listening; hints of spring...

and the list goes on and on and on.

Today I will continue to find much to be thankful for - 

in spite of my tears at handing her over for surgery recently & in spite of tears at receiving her in a body cast and being unable to always bring her comfort, and 2 more months to go;

I will be thankful.
I will be thankful though I know there are challenges ahead in our future.

And maybe it's because of those tears.  Maybe the tears and the anxiety and the stress and the heartache actually serve to magnify the thanks.
Maybe they serve to force me to really consider what I am choosing to be thankful for.
Because it is a choice.

Four weeks into spica living and moving across the state and the anxiety and stress mounting daily and I think that maybe my thanksgiving is actually greater as I focus not only on the blessings but on how even the difficulty gives me reasons for thanks.

Will and I play a game at night in his bed.  It's called, cleverly, "The Thankful Game."  We take turns saying, "Thank you, God, for ...."  I love this game.  I love hearing him list things he is thankful for and giving back to God at the end of the day.  I love voicing my thanks out loud.

Even more, I love writing my thanks down and committing to being thankful.

Recently, I read this,

"...the list doesn't erase the heartache, it just sits next to it. The good God works out is an AND, not an OR. So often, I think we feel like we have to deny the bad to find the good. And I just don't think that's right. 

The cross of Christ was something God worked hugely for our good. But that good didn't erase the agony of it. The pain, the sorrow, the separation was real, and to deny it would somehow cheapen it.

We don't have to pretend like everything's alright when it's not. But we can say that in the midst of the not alright-ness, God is still faithful, still good, and actively working good."

(Quoted from Joanne at  www.thesimplewife.typepad.com )

Sometimes I struggle with being too "pollyanna."  Since Ellie's surgery, I've actually felt like a crazy woman as the thoughts that go through my head are something like this, 

Goodness, I hate handing over my baby for surgery.  It's the most difficult thing to do.  This is so hard to do this spica cast.

and not 2 seconds later, I'm thinking this,

Wow, this could be so much worse.  What's a four hour surgery?  Some children undergo surgery for so much longer.  This spica thing is no big deal.  How dare I complain or whine?  She is alive and therefore I am thankful.  

to this...

Is it a big deal?  Is this difficult?  Or is this just something I'm supposed to simply accept and move on with?  

My brain hurts as I literally find myself arguing with myself.  

I just read that sentence and agree with myself that I am crazy.

I want to be optimistic.  I am hopeful.  

But, I am also in reality and sometimes reality is difficult.

And sometimes I struggle with reconciling a difficult experience with my relentless pollyannism.

And I do not want to minimize things that are painful in life.  I think sometimes Christians are guilty of minimizing others' circumstances (because, seriously, when we compare everything to the agony of the cross, nothing seems so bad.)  And also I think, as believers, we set expectations for ourselves - that we shouldn't struggle in life or at least not appear to struggle.    But, minimizing others' or our own pain does not point to Christ.  It negates the experiences and points away from the fact that in struggles we are forced to depend on Him.

And I think what I had to come to terms with is exactly what Joanne said:

"The list doesn't erase the heartache.  It just sits right next to it."

My list of things I am thankful for does not take away from the pain.  It doesn't negate that there are difficult days.  It doesn't mean I don't cry.  It doesn't mean my heart doesn't break that my baby is immobile in a body cast or that my son is having to defend himself (verbally) to kids at preschool bugging him about his differences.

It doesn't mean that yesterday, when Will asked when he will grow another finger and why his baby sister has more fingers than him, that my heart didn't rip into a million pieces.

(I would rather deal with cruel, judgmental people any day than look my baby boy in the eyes as he recognizes that being different (though full of blessings) is hard.)  

It simply means that even on the darkest of days, I have much to be thankful for.  It means that I can thank God regardless of my circumstances, because He is good and worthy and faithful.

It takes my focus off of me and puts it on God.

Because, ultimately, He gets the glory for our story & for the work He is doing in the lives of my precious children.  (John 9)

As a side note, I love singing hymns to my children.  I grew up in an old church and we sung hymns every Sunday.  It's amazing how many of those have stuck with me to this day.

Ellie's favorite & the only one that seems to calm her?

Great Is Thy Faithfulness

That just seems about right, doesn't it?

Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope:
 Because of the Lord's great love we are not consumed,
for His compassions never fail.
They are new every morning;
great is Your faithfulness.
I say to myself, "The Lord is my portion; therefore I will wait for Him.
Lamentations 3:21-24

I am learning a lesson in thankfulness and by His grace, He is changing me.