fOreVER

“God blessed the broken road that led me straight to you." ~ Bobby Boyd

Madeline knew it was coming, but there was no way to avoid it.  She was about to be dumped again though, given their current relationship, it was probably for the best.

She caught only the first few words that escaped his throat.  In an instant, she felt something crack inside and the infamous question leaked out: “Wasn’t I good enough?”

She’d heard it all during 15 years of dating.  Her first breakup was via a note passed to her in seventh grade.  By comparison, it was kinda cute. 

There were boyfriends who loved their mothers more, those that needed more “space,” and of course - serial cheaters.  One guy even broke up with her to join the circus.  Really?

January 1^st is probably a significant date for most people.  For Madeline, that was the day one beau made a resolution to change his life - without her in it.  One suggested that he didn’t have time for a relationship right then; that she should call him back after deer season.  Another even proposed with the same ring he’d given his ex-fiancée . . . without even resizing it.   

Everything had just collapsed in a blink of an eye.  Maddie had lost a battle she’d never agreed to fight.

Now comes that awkward time - the moment between being together and fully being apart, where everything gives reason for pathetic hope.  It’s a raw, ugly time.

Then comes the realization that, “They found someone else,” or, “They’re much better off without me.”  Even though it’s worse than life in limbo, it’s akin to plunging into icy-cold water instead of adjusting to it, inch by inch.

It’s having to act totally calm when you spend entire days at work staring right through your computer screen, trying not to cry; having to keep living a life suddenly stripped of meaning, and pretending you’re not as crushed as you feel.

Tears left a damp trail on Maddie’s pillow as she cried that night.  Each teardrop engraved yet another scar, leaving her alone and afraid. 

Only one man could console her during these meltdowns.  So after work, she stopped by for some relationship advice. 

“Honey,” he began, “the day I stopped looking for the right woman and started trying to become the right man, your Mom stepped into my life.  The only thing you should have to do to “keep him interested” is to be you.  The right person will love the real you!”

Everyone will experience the relationship breakup at some point - most will face several.  They’re hard - even that stupid song says so.   But there’s always an upside - break-ups offer the chance to grow stronger, tougher and wiser.  Being beautiful means being yourself!

Thank you, Lord, for being more than just my God right now.  Thank you for being my Father.  Comfort me knowing that You have plans for me and that one day I will find the person that fits with those plans.  Amen

 

 

 

Nurse Angel

“God sends angels to bring His messages to guide us in our ministry.” ~ Acts 8:26

She didn’t remember the impact; that part of the car accident was a blank.  Now she wished that this part was too; wondering when things would ever change.

In bits and pieces through the haze of Andie’s returning consciousness, the doctors explained that she was lucky to be alive.  She’d been in a medically-induced coma for nearly a month, recovering from multiple head and assorted orthopedic injuries.

So much had gone wrong.  Pain burned like red-hot coals throughout her body.  Physical therapy was only supposed to last a couple weeks.  Weeks had stretched to months, and although she could walk now, she still fought for balance.

A throbbing headache still robbed her of sleep most nights.  Andie’s stomach growled and she grimaced at the thought of food.  All the medications were ruining her appetite, too.  

She was so tired of pain.  So tired of being tired.  Lost in thought, Andie switched off the TV and wept quietly as light rain pelted the window pane.

"You Ok dear?" asked a stranger’s voice appearing as if from thin air.  Andie struggled to compose herself but without warning, she burst into tears. 

“It’s Ok,” the unfamiliar nurse said tenderly, “Cry as much as you want." 

As if she’d been given the "permission" she needed, Andie began sobbing even before the nurse finished speaking.  The nurse drew Andie's head to her chest, holding her as she moaned the jumbled words that come when pain is too deep for expression. 

The moment passed.  Andie straightened up; apologizing through halting tears.

"Andie," she began."  He knew you needed to be held in His arms today, just for a moment to hear His heartbeat.  He sent me to wrap you in His peace.  The sun will come out again for you soon."  She squeezed Andie's hand gently.  “Place your life in His hands!” she said before walking away.

Sunbeams immediately broke the afternoon gloom.  A new day was born; the bitter months of despair had been replaced with a sense of joy, hope, and the warmth of God’s embrace.

Angels sent from God - to protect, strengthen, and encourage.  It happens all the time, more often than we realize.  He knows when we're drowning, and need His touch.

We all have days when we can’t push any harder, can’t hold back self-doubt, can’t stop focusing on fear.  We don't always have to be strong.  Sometimes our strength is expressed when we allow ourselves the courage to feel scared, weak, and vulnerable.  Sometimes we need to fall apart to regroup and stay on track.  

But He’s got this!  Relief from physical and mental anguish starts with letting God be God.

“Father, I place my life in Your hands!” (Luke 23:46)  Help me to know that it’s okay to allow myself to be human.  Help me not to feel guilty or punish myself when I need to "fall apart" and rely on the angels You place in my path.  Amen

A Time for Love

“You have stolen my heart with one glance of your eyes." ~ Song of Solomon 4:9

Unlike more spacious restaurants, diners and chain buffets, the Apple Farm was a family-owned business run by an elderly couple with warm smiles.  It had been a preferred dining spot since their earliest dates.   

Jack led Marcy to a small table adorned with white linens and a bouquet of wild daisies.  Despite the late hour, the place was packed - a testament to the cozy atmosphere and friendly service.  A few well-placed candles offered the only light.  There was no background music.  Atmosphere came from patrons’ conversations and the clinking of crystal and cutlery.

Jack pulled out her chair.  She sat gracefully.  Without a word, the waiter approached and poured them wine.  No menus tonight; Jack had ordered for them in advance.  There would be no further interruptions from the wait staff.

“You look amazing,” he told her and meant it.  Marcy swept her hands over her dress, which looped around the back of her neck, showing off bare shoulders.  Other guests watched them admiringly – they made such a cute couple.

Jack watched her sip the wine.  He loved watching her.  She enjoyed his gaze; feeling his eyes drift from her lips to her cheeks and nose.  She blushed.

They lock eyes across the table.  Everything around them fades away, lost in the depths of each other’s souls.  It’s not lustful, but a longing to escape forever into a universe all their own.  She senses his devotion, he hers. 

Time stood still stopping just for them; an eternity to enjoy each other’s company.   Anyone could see the energy between them.  Something surreal was happening at their table, something natural, expressive, and affectionate.

Jack leaned over and kissed Marcy lightly on the cheek.  She couldn’t help but smile with pleasure at the sweetness.  Her innocent pleasure made its way across the eloquent table, straight into his heart.  Everything around them faded away.

Marcy asked modestly, “What was that for?” 

Jack didn’t hesitate: “I want everyone to know you’re my girl.”

They held hands, laughed and talked throughout dinner.  After the main course, the waiter complimented their “sweet” demeanor with a complimentary piece of chocolate cake.  “Happy Anniversary,” he said.  “May I ask what the secret to your long marriage is?

It was then that Marcy realized he thought they were there for their umpteenth wedding anniversary!  She couldn’t bring herself to correct him because for a moment, it felt so beautiful to be permanently tied to this man she loved so much.

The couple looked at each other and laughed.  Jack squeezed Marcy’s hand across the table.  Both in their mid-70’s, they had each lost spouses to cancer nearly a decade ago.   Marcy smiled before speaking. “I only wish I’d met him sooner.”

Father, in Your name we pray: imperfect, anxious, struggling, lonely, confused, weary, human.  Let my past serve as prologue.  I’m ready to face my future.  Thank you for another chance at love.  Amen

The Ministry of Presence

“Suffering exposes us to the mystery of God—not an explanation from Him.” ~ I Cor. 2:16

For Joshua, the fire drill offered a welcomed break from his daily high school routine.  The surprise of the shrill, unexpected noise made classmates gasp, jump out of their seats, and giggle.  They all shuffled down the hall and out the exit doors to an assigned location on the tennis courts.

When most people think of Joshua, they think of his fiery side.  The Northwestern-bound defensive lineman earned his stripes as one of the school’s greatest football players of all time.  His 6-foot-4, 240-plus-pound frame put the fear of God in opponent quarterbacks.

But behind his face mask of defiance and strength, he had a softer side: caring and sweet with an engaging sense of humor.  The fact that Josh wasn’t affected by his talent or his good looks added to his popularity.

For most students, the high-pitched intermittent blast of the fire alarm is simply a minor, temporary irritant.   Josh relished the freedom of being outside and breathing the crisp, fresh air while waiting for the "all clear" bell to sound. 

But, fire drills can be extremely challenging for some students; the loud noise, the sudden transition, the crowded hallways often cause fear and anxiety.  Such was the case for Laurie, a classmate with Down’s syndrome.  For her, this routine safety procedure became a complicated, painful ordeal.

Spotting Josh, she moved toward him deliberately.  They’d become friends in Art class last semester.  She always walks slowly, probably because of her physical limitations, but mostly because she could.  Laurie had an uncanny ability to be completely present, in whatever situation, with no thought to "what next?"

She stopped directly in front of him, catching Josh slightly off-guard.  Sandy brown hair and cherub cheeks failed to hide the fear that colored her chocolate brown eyes. 

He edged his hand toward hers ever so slightly, until he felt his fingertips brush her hand.  She unfurled her fingers and let his slip around hers until she felt the warmth of his palm press against her own. 

Laurie shifted her stance uncomfortable.  But the more he squeezed her soft hand, the more she felt the tension melt away.  Laurie smiled.  Josh breathed out a soft prayer meant only for her ears and God above. (below)

He held her hand all the way back to her classroom.

Everyone in the body of Christ qualifies to be an expert assistant to the suffering.  You don’t have to be brilliant, persuasive, articulate, or experienced.  You can be involved in what’s called, "The Ministry of Presence."

Through the ministry of presence, you can bring comfort to the hurting - without ever being ordained or certified.  You don’t have to be anything but available to be a wonderful tool in the hand of God.

Heavenly Father, I don’t the trials that Laurie has been through, but whatever anxiety is still in her heart and mind, please grant her peace and acceptance.  Help her find comfort in You through me.  Amen

Easter's Lilly

“See how the wildflowers grow?  They don’t worry about their appearance.” ~ Matthew 6: 28

In the hollers of eastern Kentucky lived an elderly woman famous to the locals as ‘Lilly.’  She got that title decades ago when she began raising Easter Lilies and giving them out in church on Easter Sundays.  

Children always received their flowers first, which partly explained why kids adored her.  That, and the fact that she was great listener.  Piercing eyes and a bird-like habit of tilting her head to the side when she listened, quickly disarmed even the most reticent child.

A few days before Easter, a 9 year old girl named Brook came to see Lilly.  Long beautiful lashes struggled to hide the sadness welling behind them.

“Some boys at school told me I’m ugly,” Brook began choking back tears.  “Lilly, why didn’t God make me pretty like my sister?

The old woman passed Brook a tissue before speaking in a slow, measured voice; one that revealed more wisdom than age. “That’s an easy one dear child. I remember when your sister was your age.  You look just like she did then.” 

Her eyes twinkled whimsically before continuing.  “Boys can’t see very well until they get their new eyes.  That happens about age 16.  Then those boys will like how you look so much, they’ll all want “selfies” with you to brag to their friends that you like them the most.

Brook was not convinced!  So Lilly said: “Right now while you’re little, your grown up face is squeezed into a small package like a seed.  As you mature, your face stretches and it will grow like a flower and become a beautiful face.  Brook’s confused expression prompted Lilly to demonstrate with one of her Easter Lilies.

“For many,” Lilly digressed, “these beautiful trumpet-shaped white flowers symbolize purity, goodness, hope and life - the essence of Easter.  It’s been said that they sprang from the places on the ground where Jesus’ sweat fell from the cross.  

But its beauty takes time.”

“It starts as a small, baby bulblet growing underground on the stem of its mother plant.  When the mother plant is harvested, the bulblet is carefully removed and planted in another field.  One year later, the bulblet, now called a yearling, is dug up again.  The yearling is planted in a new field for another full year of special care to allow it to grow into its full potential as a majestic white lily.”

“Someday a man looking for a beautiful flower will find you.  Why, I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if you grew up to be the prettiest flower in the whole field.  So don’t listen to what people with poor vision say about you anymore.”

Brook blushed.  “I love you Lilly, and lily,” she giggled.  “Happy Easter!”

Lord Jesus, Your lilies serve as a beautiful reminder that Easter is a time for rejoicing and celebrating.  “Sweetest lilies pure and white, Flooding darkness with their light, Bloom and sorrow drifts away, On this Holy hallow’d day.  ~ Louise Lewin

Yin - Yang

“There’s a time to cry and laugh; a time to be sad and a time to dance with joy." ~ Ecclesiastes 3:4

Jessica, a Pastor and five months pregnant, came to know God’s indivisible nature in a most unusual way.  Not from seminary, not from counseling; not from her life’s 31 years of experience.

She’d become a regular at the birthing center partly for spiritually reassuring new mothers, but also due to some complications with her own pregnancy.  She was present that fateful morning, one that she’d come to believe was no coincidence, when a young, single woman named Aubrey went into labor.  She would deliver a pre-term baby alive, but it wouldn’t be able to live for more than a few minutes (babies are not considered 'viable' until 23 weeks). 

The nurses asked if Jessica would stay with Aubrey as she went through this tragic labor.  She reluctantly agreed, sensing some divine intervention calling her to serve.

Jessica sat and calmly held her hand, whispering, praying, and crying.  After she delivered her tiny little baby girl alive, Pastor Jess quickly baptized her “In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.”

Distraught with grief, Aubrey held her newborn daughter briefly, admiring her eyelashes and counting every precious finger and toe.  But at a mere one pound and battling each breath, she couldn’t bear watching death come.

Jessica whispered, “Do you want me to hold her until she passes?”

“Please,“ Aubrey replied though desperate tears.

Jessica carried the little child into the next room, rocking her prayerfully in the dark.  “Jesus, take this little one, so pure and perfect.  Let her know love.  Hold her and tend her just as her mother would if she could.”

As Jessica held the tiny child on top of her growing stomach, her own baby began to gently kick for the entire 15 minutes that they sat there together.  It seemed as though she was communicating to this dying sweetie deep truths in little breaths and kicks.  Maybe she was telegraphing to her sister in Christ that she too would be OK, reminding her that she was returning to a place that they had both come from.

Two babies, one now dead, one with promise of new life.  This all resides together in the hands and the heart of God, the Creator.  The line between life and death, which had seemed so rock solid, was in fact very thin, very porous.  Life and death are twins, enriching each other, bearing truth, exposing the structure of the universe as a natural expression of God’s existence.

It all fits in God’s tender embrace - all of our terror and sorrow and all of our joy and delight.  Like Yin-Yang - where opposite or contrary forces are actually complementary.

Holy Father, who collects broken pieces, knits them together and declares us whole.  Help us fear a little less, rest a little more, and live a little louder.  Remind us that death is but a chapter of the great whole.  Amen

Coffee Affection

“God will bless us with showers of rain when we need it." ~ Ezekiel 34:26

The atmosphere was warm and inviting, coaxing patrons in with its freshly ground scents and irresistible charm.  Such was the Coffee Oasis, a place teeming with a rich assortment of life.

Brandon parked at his usual table near the window, watching the world streak past, writing each customer’s life story in his mind as he sipped a dark blend.  He longed for someone to share this joint’s coziness with.

Outside, the sky let loose torrents of water as raindrops raced each other down the windowpane.   Brandon fumbled with an old, rusty window catch, forcing it open just enough to inhale the rich earthly aroma of fresh precipitation.

For most, the day stung with disappointment.  Showers like these spoil outside activities, cause sickness, and aggravate moodiness.

Brandon however, saw it as a life-giving blessing that cools the earth and flushes the ground of toxins.  Listening to the rhythmic pitter-patter of raindrops can be therapeutic.  It also means you don’t have to make excuses not to go out if all you feel like doing is puttering about indoors. 

Just then something in the corner of my eye made Brandon squint for more clarity.  A flash of bright pink, gone for a moment, then reappearing.  As it got closer, Brandon eyed a woman, in a pink rain jacket, moving at a snail’s pace in a wheelchair. 

He grabbed his umbrella and ran outside into the pouring rain.  “Do you need any help . . . or a dry resting spot?” he asked nervously.

She gave him an odd look, then a warm smile.  “I appreciate it, but the rain feels great against my skin.  I’m out here and going slow on purpose.” 

As Brandon watched her wheel on down the pathway, he realized with a jolt that she was the only one taking advantage of the weather and having fun.  As much as he appreciated the rain, he wasn’t doing anything to enjoy it.  Brandon loved her sentiment – talk about the epitome of appreciating life.

“Wait, wait!” he shouted.  “Can I buy you a cup of coffee or something?”

She turned and giggled flirtatiously.  “Only if you’ll join me at a table outside,” she teased.  And so they did – 11 years and two babies ago.

Life’s about dancing in the rain and taking the opportunities as they come.  It seemed that Brandon and the girl that eventually became his wife were the only two people who realized it that day.  Not everything that we see around us is going to last forever.  So we have to pause long enough to enjoy it all. 

“May God give you . . . for every storm, a rainbow, for every tear, a smile, for every care, a promise, and a blessing in each trial.  For every problem God sends, a faithful friend to share, for every sigh, a sweet song, and an answer for each prayer.” ~ Irish Prayer

Double Take

“Don’t judge others by appearance, but rather by what’s in their hearts." ~ 1 Samuel 16:7

Paige and Paris were fraternal twins.  Genetically, they shared half their DNA in common, about the same as siblings born at different times.  They shared two parents, a suburban home and the same ride to school.  That’s where any similarities ended.  Paris was popular – Paige was not.

Paris has over 2,500 Facebook friends; more that some small colleges.  She talks to college boys on her smart phone for several hours each night.  A fake ID allows free ice-cream drinks (pretty girl discount) at a local nightclub.  Sometimes she amps up her cool quotient by smoking flavored cigarettes.  If the Principal catches her, she flirts with him until he lets Paris goes with just a warning.  Popular girls walk in the formation of migrating geese.  Paris leads the wedge with that “I’m way out of your league!” kind of attitude.

Paige doesn’t scale the dizzying heights of “popularity.”  She’s more “likeable” – the kind of girl preferred by a tight knit group of peers who enjoy simply “hangin’ out.”  She’s well-adjusted on many levels, including enjoying good relationships with her parents and other adults, as well as being able to handle diverse social situations.  She’s less a trend “setter” than a trend “spotter.”

On the road to school this morning, few words were spoken.  Paris slept; the victim of too many late nights texting, tweeting, and posting.  As they neared the high school entrance, Paige spotted a car up ahead speeding way too fast around the tight curve.  

Before she had time to react, the car slid on the snow-packed road slamming into their car.  Air bags popped, metal crunched, windows shattered. 

While waiting for an ambulance to arrive, Paris immediately posted a comment on Facebook about the crash.  Within seconds, she scored dozens of ‘Likes’ and comments.

And while Paris’ friends tweeted, Paige’s two best friends showed up independently before the paramedics arrived. 

Young people - friendship isn’t measured by the number you have, but rather by those who’re there when you need them most.

Many of you go to dangerous lengths to be accepted by as many kids as possible.   Being high on the school pecking order brings more: security, envy, connections, and favors.

But not all popular kids go on to be successful adults.  People who reach their "popularity peak" in high school, sometimes fall sharply when high school ends.  Being popular doesn’t guarantee good grades, honest friendships, or people who care about your needs.

Realize that by being happy with yourself, your looks, your grades, your compassion and your sense of humor, makes you a better person and will help you make a better life for yourself in the future. Above all, stick to friends that you completely trust.

“Make each day a masterpiece, make friendship a fine art, drink deeply from good books (especially the Bible), build a shelter against a rainy day, give thanks for your blessings and pray for guidance every day!” ~ Coach John Wooden

 

The Last Dance

“Where there’s His will . . .  there’s a way.” ~ Romans 8: 26-27

Karl didn’t mind the cold.  He’d take a cold sunny day in January over some of the bone chilling damp, gray days last fall.  He pulled up the covers and buried his face into the pillow only to be roused by a voice he knew too well.

“Come on Dad, it’s time to get ready!” Kelli declared.  She leaned in to kiss him.  His once-impish grin had long since vanished; replaced by the bloodshot eyes of a chemo-weary face.

“Am I dying today?” he countered.  After battling lung cancer for years, things had become critical.  Anemic and short of breath, his treatment options had expired.  Karl’s oncologist wasn’t sure he’d survive the weekend.

“No Dad,” she replied.  “I’ve got a surprise for you.  Get dressed!”

After everyone left his hospital room, Karl dressed and was escorted by wheelchair to the Chapel.

As a nurse wheeled him into the small Sanctuary, a recorded version of “The Wedding March” announced Kelli’s arrival . . . wearing a broad smile . . . in her wedding gown.  About 20 relatives, nurses, and friends applauded.

For a moment Karl wondered if he was in the throes of a chemo-induced fantasy.  He knew that he wouldn’t live to see the wedding they had planned for his daughter next summer.  After a beautifully choreographed wedding in St. Paul’s Cathedral, Karl’s brother would drive the newly-married couple to an elegant banquet hall in his 1929 Model A Ford.  There would be a five-course meal, a disc jockey and over 200 guests.

“Daddy, we couldn’t possibly make the most important commitment of our lives without you,” she said beaming with the radiance of the sun itself. 

After exchanging vows and sharing her first kiss as a married woman, the new bride clutched her father’s hand. “Will you dance with me, Dad?” Kelli pleaded.

“I can’t dance,” Karl protested.  He wasn’t strong enough to get out of his wheelchair.

“You don’t have to,” Kelli replied.  “We’ll improvise.”  As the song “I Will Always Love You” played in the background, Karl wept openly as Kelli swayed from side to side and helped him spin.  Though she didn’t have the ceremony she’d envisioned as a little girl, she did fulfill her dream of dancing with her Dad at her wedding.   

Karl died three days later.  Of all his 63 years of great memories, he lived his final days savoring his favorite – Kelli’s wedding.  Next were reflections about their family vacations on Pelican Lake.  That, he said, was where he wanted them to spread his ashes.

And so they will, next summer after a grand wedding reception as originally planned.  Bigger – but never more intimate; better but not more significant.

“Though we miss Dad and wish he were still here, we know that he’s with You now. Thank you Lord, for his gentle spirit, his unwavering courage, his rock-solid integrity.  Thank you for giving him the strength to share our special day.” ~ Kelli and Nick

Drop by Drop

“God helps those who help themselves.” ~ Ben Franklin, 1757

Sufia approached the feeble old woman squatting on the busy sidewalk.  She appeared to be one of India’s many street beggars.  She wanted to donate a few rupees but couldn’t find the woman’s collection box.

Noting Sufia’s confused look, the old woman spoke in a curious voice; a gravel-and-silken mix of whiskey gruffness and educated prose.  “Hello!  My friends call me Shila Mashi.  Would you like to buy some home-made chips?” she asked.  

She wasn’t a beggar – but an entrepreneur!

An intense discussion followed, one that not only ended in a successful sale, but a lesson that Sufia would never forget.  She bought a packet of chips from Shila and later posted her experience on Facebook, writing:

“For two hours each way, she navigates by bus and by foot to reach that pavement in Kolkata where she squats every evening.  When asked if she has a problem travelling, she replies in a surprising voice   “No, the bus gets me here and my health isn’t too bad.” 

Behind 85 years of sun-baked wrinkles, her angelic smile paints a picture of determination to live an honorable life.  Her clothing never appears shabby; always clean and fresh. 

At an age when she would love to enjoy grandchildren, quiet retirement and all life’s happiness, she works to support three grandchildren orphaned by the death of their father.  Day in and day out, Shila Mashi’s been taking risks to ensure the financial security of her family, earning only about 400 rupees per day ($6.50) selling homemade chips. Dignity means everything to her; she’ll work till her last breath rather than accept charity.”

Sufia had an idea, one that would preserve the woman’s self-respect and increase her business, but from way behind the scenes.  She launched the “Our World, Our Initiative” Facebook page urging people to buy Shila’s chips.  It worked – her sales exploded. 

Our World, Our Initiative (check it out at: https://www.facebook.com/OurWorldOurInitiative ) is a student initiative which highlights the problems of all elderly citizens of Kolkata, India.  It’s expanded to include children’s issues.  Said Sufia, “We can’t solve all problems, but drop by drop we’ll fill the ocean with hope.”

Most of us have never really had to struggle for survival.  We enjoy life’s boundless opportunities, waiting for the ball to bounce to us, and then complain when trouble follows. 

How many times a day do we complain about what we do or don’t have?  About life that’s not in synch with our dreams, about a face that’s not beautiful or handsome enough, or about the wealth, success or prestige that we ‘deserve.’ 

God helps those who help themselves - with boundless grace today, yesterday, forever.  He asks only in return that we walk in His ways.

Lord, please don’t let me waste this day!  Help me spend today loving You, serving You and praising You for the goodness and blessings of life You’ve given me.  I don’t have time for fear of death or hardship, as you are my refuge.  Amen