Rediscovering Advent: Trust In God, Our Steadfast Rock

God has a sense of humor.  Tonight's section is about trusting God.  Which is exactly what I did earlier.  Trust is hard for me.  It's something I've struggled with for the last five years.  After the fires, I felt betrayed by God.  I felt like He had let me down by allowing everything to be lost.  I couldn't see then, that throughout it all God was looking out for us.  Nobody was hurt.  Nobody died.  We survived, and we have recovered.  Since my faith was restored, I have been working on maintaining my faith.  Paul's job change was a huge exercise in that.  Every day, I have the chance to further that trust.  Like tonight.

Those of steadfast mind you keep in peace-
in peace because they trust in you.
Trust in the Lord forever, 
for in the Lord God 
You have an everlasting rock.
Isaia 26:2-3

It's been an interesting night, to say the least.  I volunteered to help with a girl's retreat at St. Stephen's, and this was the first meeting I was able to attend.  When I got there, no one had arrived yet, so I walked around the church for awhile.  I was drawn to the church by music.  When I looked in the window, I saw Christ, exposed in the monstrance.  So I went inside for adoration.


One of old classmates was sitting in the back, singing softly as he played guitar.  I knelt, keeping Anthony in the stroller and rocking him back and forth.  By some miracle, he was calm.  He was happy.  He was silent in the presence of Christ.  So I prayed.  I prayed for everyone in my life, especially my grandparents.  I prayed for every person in my family, for my friends.  For my in laws, for strangers, for myself.

And God spoke to me.  He told me if this retreat was meant to be, I would make it to the meeting.  If I couldn't get it, it was okay.  And sure enough, as I walked around the building to go to the meeting one entrance was guarded by a gate, which I couldn't budge.  The other, was stairs. I which I couldn't get my stroller up.  It's not my year.  I have a small child, and can take a softer role.  I can pray.  And I will.

But before that, there was a song.


"Nothing Is Written"

I came home
Like a stone
And I fell heavy into your arms
These days of dust
Which we've known
Will blow away with this new sun

And I'll kneel down
Wait for now
And I'll kneel down
Wait for now

So break my step
And relent
You forgave and I won't forget
Know what we've seen
And him with less
Now in some way
Shake the excess

And I'll kneel down
Wait for now
And I'll kneel down
Know my ground

Now I'll be bold
As well as strong
Use my head alongside my heart
So take my flesh
And fix my eyes
That tethered mind free from the lies

And I'll kneel down
Wait for now
And I'll kneel down
Know my ground
And I'll kneel down
Wait for now

Raise my hands
Paint my spirit gold
And bow my head
Keep my heart slow

And raise my hands
Paint my spirit gold
And bow my head
Keep my heart slow

Except there, in front of the altar of God, I'm sure he said "wait for you."  And he did.  God did.  For all those years of turmoil, He waited for me.  And I, I fell home.  


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