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| "He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will abide in the shadow of the Almighty. I will say to the Lord, "My refuge and my fortress, my God in whom I trust"" psalm 91
i am angry. really really angry. -- i am a work in progress. in progress.....in progress.....in progress
dear jesus,
don't let me become bitter.
my heart is really broken, you know that right? it hurts. like more than just a scrape on the knee.
i know you are on my side. (no weapon formed against me, shall prosper).
help me to stand on your truth -- and fight with your strength.
well, really i just need your strength to move on...or to even move, so lets start with that.
are you really in control? i hope so, because apparently i'm not.
thank you for not leaving me, and not forsaking me, and for promising to finish whatever is going on in me.
blessed is your name on the road marked with suffering, though theres pain in the offering...i choose to say, blessed be your name.
oh and hey, thanks for letting sean be a really great friend.
i try to trust you, but you know how that goes. and even still, i know that trusting you is whats best. all the time.
so for better or worse, i trust you.
you are in control, i am not. and your sovereignty is maybe one of the coolest things someone can experience. thanks.
i will praise you in this storm, and i will lift my hands, because you are who you are, no matter where i am.
and every tear i've cried (which is a lot) you hold in your hand, you've never left my side, though my heart is torn, i will praise you in this storm.
-hannah
----
almighty God
in everyway
you are above and beyond understanding
if we did not praise
the rocks would cry out
glorious God
~~~~
to everyone who's lost someone they love.... cry out to jesus. he'll meet you wherever you are....
cry out to jesus.
 sean clark may 1, 1974 -- december 18, 2007 | | |
| after flipping a cart of 250 pieces of clothing off the truck...
I was all set to stereotype this past tuesday as a case of the Mondays.
I was explaining to Adam that i felt like when one bad thing happens it's so easy to let something else tricky happen and then just put on the bad attitude of 'well, so much for this day. it's horrible. everything that can go wrong, has".
and as he started saying
"it's days like today that...."
and i interrupted by thinking i knew exactly what he was going to say, and thinking that he was going to agree with me that that day was a bad day....and i was probably babbling on about something completely selfish and stuck up...
and he got back to saying what he was saying.
"...it's days like today that i am reminded of my desperate need for a savior..."
and i was glad that he reminded me of of that truth.
i have no room to complain. about anything.
[besides everyday], Tuesday was a day to celebrate that my Savior lives.
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| i think i'm allergic to this 104 degree weather. -- 107 heat index --
for now, i'm done complaining.
whats to complain about when:
my sister comes home from australia in 9 days.
i'm going to be an aunt in a few months.
and, i have two very cute little siblings coming home soon.
[and, i'm not stuck in any sort of public restroom  ]
oh, life is so beautiful.
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| today, i thought i would die.
i'll tell you a story about it if you care to listen.
[please read it. i like this story very much]
I meandered my way to the bathroom this morning, in the convention hall.
when i was ready to leave, the door the more than locked. i tried to calmly unlock on, but apparantly this was my unlucky day. it was stuck. that means, that i was stuck. i don't care to much for public restrooms anyways, and to think that i am currently stuck in one was most horrifying.
i tried and tried to move the lock over so the door would become unlocked, but to no avail. i started panicking. i generally don't panic, but i was really starting to think that i would be stuck for quite some time. now, you might say "just go UNDER the door"... well, this girl doesn't go under the door of stuck bathroom doors. ...i would go over, just not under. but i was not giving up....yet.
so, as i was becoming desperate, pounding on the door, thrusting all of my weight at it, maybe in hopes that it would come crashing down, almost screaming at it, i decided that i would call my best friend kate, who was sitting out at our booth. so i called her phone. no answer. this was discouraging. surely, i would be left in the bathroom, no one would ever know where i was, and i would be stuck not only in a bathroom to wither away to nothing, but it would be in the city of oh atlanta, city of thieves.
when i climbed down from being so anxious to get out of the bathroom, realizing the the rest of my life could be spent in there, i calmly and collectedly sighed one last time and said "jesus, i don't want to be in here. will you please make the door open? i guess i can't get it open in my own strength". almost in tears, i reached one more time for the handle and voile! it opened. it was nothing short of a miracle.
i came out and relayed the story to my friend kate and she said "oh yeah, i saw that you were calling my phone and thought "why on earth is she calling me? she's in the bathroom, she couldn't possibly need me!" some friend she is 
i fully realize that i was more than capable to climb over the door, and it is possible to get under the door. but you must realize, o precious reader, that i have such an aversion to bathroom floors. i understand that my shoes must touch the floor, but if at all in my power i can keep anything else from touching the bathroom floor, i do. it even irks me when bathroom floors eat the bottom of my jeans, and i hate it when mudd puddles eat the bottom of my jeans too... although i am anal about must-haves when it comes to jeans, jeans that are long enough and so on and so forth, so i guess i can't have the best of both worlds.
my, how did i jump from a story about being locked away in the bathroom in atlanta, to long jeans, and mudd puddles and all sorts of things?
see now, i AM out of the bathroom and alive enough to write this story. (lets see if i make it home from atlanta...oh atlanta)
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