Magical Moments

Magic is made great by surprise.  And life is made great by moments that seem almost magical.  The most magical moments of our year here in Florida are those that took us by surprise.

Mother's Day 2013 started with breakfast in bed, balancing trays dangerously on my lap as children bounced around in anticipation of their hand-made treasures opened by mom.  At some point in the morning we decided to take a drive.  When 2/3 tiny heads began to bob in slumber we turned up the Mumford and Sons and cruised our usual routes of historic neighborhoods.  These "slumbering drives" are mini-dates for us.  We talk, we hold hands, we listen to music, we tackle decisions and problems put off to needy hands and night-time routines.  On this particular Sunday Tony pointed the van towards ocean and sand. 

We ended on Amelia Island after criss-crossing bridges over wetlands peppered with red kayaks.  Upon first arriving on the island we were greeted by the typical beach shops of souvenirs and frozen yogurt but even these were subdued and minimal.  As we drove the main drag shops and houses gave way to tropical forests and bike paths.  Where was the ocean?  Somewhere behind the forest? Somewhere beyond the bikers and palms?  It seemed  as though we were the only ones out that day.  Magic is feeling as though you are experiencing something truly unique.  We found public beach access after stopping to stock up on picnic fixings.  Soft pita bread, Gouda with its gritty texture and sharp bite, fancy sodas.  Later as we picnicked there would be sand on our fingers, caked to our thighs, sprinkled in our hair as we tore bread and sliced cheese with the handle of our plastic fork. 

 To arrive at the beach we walked on a path overgrown with trees and palms dwarfing us in size.  Tree branches snaked and curled overhead in beautiful tangled knots.  Mansions with plantation shutters and with as many rooms as a hotel stood silent to our right and left, partially hidden in the trees surrounding our path.  We arrived at the dunes surprised to find ocean in the midst of forest.  Shells were everywhere, whole and pure, crunched and broken.  Tiny shells smaller than a fingernail, giant shells bumpy with barnacles and black as night.  Later in the afternoon I would take a solitary walk as ocean lapped my feet and find a perfect sand dollar.  Magical.  Unexpected.

Magic gives us a break from reality.  And when reality is especially brutal.  Exhausting.  Overwhelming.  Those magical moments seem like a gift from God.  Like a gasp of fresh air after swimming underwater on a trek that never seems to end.  Across the English Channel.  As fast and as hard as your burning limbs can take you.  And at that moment when you feel as though your lungs may burst, you pop your head up and see the beautiful world around you.  You gasp and turn your tired body over to a float.  You rest, for a short time.  We floated on Amelia Island that day.  Then as the day ended we reluctantly flipped over, held our breath, put our heads down and continued the strenuous journey to the shore on the other side.

Our family is tired in a way we have not been before.  10 years of post-graduate training, a total of four moves, 100+ work weeks, and to-do lists never completed, whining in the back of our minds as we prioritize family-time.  Blogs and scrapbooks and Facebook and Twitter, they capture the magical moments in word and pictures.  We are fooled into believing these pictures are someones reality.  But the truth is, they are only snippets of the moments we find most precious.  Reality is found in the parking lot of the supermarket on the way home as the baby melts down from too much beach, too much sand, and throbbing teeth.  Reality is found in the perfect, delicate sand dollar shattered in the breast pocket from a child kicking while atop Daddy's shoulders.  Should we take more pictures, talk more of reality?  Maybe.  Or maybe we should view blogs and Facebook, not with envy of our friend's "perfect" life but with celebration of our friends' magical moments.  Capturing and sharing them brings a completeness.  It brings joy.  But let's not forget that reality lurks on the other side of the digital image.  

The skeptic might say magic is only a trick of the mind.  Sure.  Maybe.  But I don't mind being tricked in this way.  I don't mind believing for a few hours that my reality is endless time with family.  My head on his shoulders.  Their rosy cheeked faces and long limbs racing across the sand.  Cheese and bread and fancy cola and ice cream without worry of caloric intake.  Because reality can wait.  I will not worry about reality and ruin this moment.  I will bottle up this magic and open it on the screen when reality threatens to drown me.  If real-life looked like our magical moments, would they cease to feel magical?  Yes, I believe so. So we need brutal reality to make marvelous magic, don't we?

I am thankful for all those magical moments here in Florida that offered us a break from the reality of fellowship year.  When we reach the shoreline at the end of December, when our real-life waters become less choppy, I pray we will not miss the magical moments because we are less desperate for them.  May my Instagram feed and Facebook updates reflect the magic found in the everyday.  The bubbles blown in the backyard.  The taste of a savory dish.  The quiet moments of naps and reading and flowers in a vase.  Let's capture them all, those magical moments.  And let's rejoice with our friends, not envy them.  They are simultaneously gasping and celebrating as they post their own magical moments.

 via here

Waiting and Worry

{Waiting for Luisa}

 

Pride cometh before a fall.  But I will risk it, strap on my crash helmet and boast that I am getting better at waiting.

Actually it's not me at all.  Only the work of the Holy Spirit could change an impatient girl like me into one that has survived, maybe even thrived during these last six months of waiting.

Like eggs and bacon, waiting and worry are a go to combination in my life.  It's like the song I sing to the kiddos:  "Be patient.  Be patient.  Don't be in such a hurry.  When you get impatient you always start to WORRY."  When it comes to waiting, I seem to worry.  So God saw it fit to put me through several tests of waiting in the last six months....

Never, never, never believe subsequent babies will arrive earlier than your first.  Maybe they do for some but this certainly wasn't the case with Luisa.  Convincing myself that she would be early resulted in not so patient waiting.  But she arrived right on time, His time.

Then there was the whole "waiting for the house to sell" gig.  We put it on the market the last week of August.  Then waited for over 7 weeks for a buyer to emerge from several showings.  I cleaned. I picked up knick knacks.  My pregnant belly and I disappeared with two kids for hours during showings.  Nothing.  God had the perfect renters in mind. 

Speaking of housing.  How about waiting until the hour before you are supposed to be at the airport to find a new home?  We flew to Florida at the end of November with 6 week old baby Luisa.  Our mission?  To find a house in exactly 24 hours.  The first 12 hours were spent touring apartments.  Each one left an unsettled feeling in our hearts.  By the end of the day we were somewhere beyond exhausted, me in a puddle of tears on our hotel bed.  Wait, wait, wait.  Tony encouraged, "Let's look a few more places tomorrow afternoon before we fly out."  The next morning we were scheduled to attend a brunch with a few people from Tony's fellowship program.  We arrived with circles as deep as the Grand Canyon, baby Luisa in tow.  A sweet surprise was in store for us.  The chairman's wife took her place beside us at the table.  Upon hearing our lack of success in finding housing, she called a friend whose house was on the market.  The friend was willing to rent to the right family.  We met the homeowners an hour before we were scheduled to arrive at the airport.  A shake of the hand and God provided a house.  In a family friendly neighborhood.  With parks on every corner.  Within walking distance of the river and a school that just happened to have mid-year openings for Sophia and Vincent.  With artsy breakfast spots and delicious ice cream stores.  With wonderful neighbors with kiddos to play with.  With a fantastic backyard and two large oak trees.  My tear-stained waiting wasn't pretty that weekend but God was ever faithful.

{Playing at one of many great parks near our new house.}

{Yummy ice cream store nearby}

 

{GREAT neighbors.}

 

{So glad to walk next door and play with our friends...}



{First day at their new school.  Don't worry.  Sophia got happy and both she and Vincent LOVE their new school.}

 



May I share with you a few things I've learned while waiting? I share them with a humble heart; with honesty that, truly, patience is not a virtue of mine. Yet these are disciplines that helped me in the waiting. Maybe they will help you too?

Stay busy - I found this especially key while waiting for Luisa to arrive.  The days I stayed on the couch were the days I struggled most emotionally.  Ever amazed by the 9+ month pregnant lady re-arranging the furniture and planting flowers in the backyard?  She is trying to stay sane.  Go on excursions.  Make lists and work at checking them off in small chunks.  Like a really good soup, the key is "small chunks."

{We stayed busy with home improvement projects as we waited for Luisa's arrival.}

 



{Waiting for a great deal on a van paid off.}

Pray for the Small Things - When waiting, the small details cause the greatest angst.  Pray about the seemingly insignificant things and in doing so let them go.  God knows every, infinitesimal worry in your brain.  Why not give them to Him in prayer?  As I prayed I claimed Him as my Abba Father, ready to provide.

Call on Others - Ask them to pray for you.  Accept help.  Accept meals.  Ask your best friend, your family, your husband to help you with small tasks around the house.  My dear friend helped me pack boxes.  My mother did innumerable loads of laundry.  I let go of some control in my home.  As a result, I felt less stressed.

Are you Really in Control? - There were few things I was actually in control over during this move.  House selling.  Baby's arrival.  Place to live.  School openings.  Renters.  When I found myself getting worked up I asked myself this question:  "Is there anything I can do about this?"  If yes, then I did it - cleaned, researched schools, packed a box.  If the answer was no (i.e. no offer on the house, no signs of impending labor) then I would lay my obsessive thinking and fretting aside and pray.  Just quick little prayers.

Be Quiet - This might not be true for everyone else, but for me, talking about things sometimes makes it worse.  Especially if my talk is fretful talk about those details over which I have no control (see above).  It's natural to take our problems to physical, walking around with legs and arms people rather than to a God we cannot see.  Yet, when I disciplined myself to be quiet or to pray, I was less worked up (see scripture #1 below).

Memorize Scripture - I laugh as I type this.  I'm just plain lazy about scripture memorization.  Recently a friend gifted me with these scripture memorization cards.  Because they are so pretty, I have them displayed in a prominent place in my home.  Naturally and with little effort, I have memorized several verses.  I now "get" scripture memorization. If God's Word is hidden in your heart, He will be faithful to bring the perfect one to mind when you need it most.  Here are 3 of my favorite "waiting" scriptures:

".....Quietness and trust is your strength....." Isaiah 30:15

 

"...we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ..." 2 Corinthians 10:5

 

"Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.  And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus." Philippians 4:6-7

 

 God is not interested in my happiness but rather my holiness.  He took me to an uncomfortable place last August when we decided to move to Florida all together with a 10 week old baby.  In taking me there He has worked on my impatience, my desire to be in control.  I have a long way to go but blessedly, He is not through with me yet (Philippians 1:6). 

Welcome to Florida - Let's Visit the ER

We moved four weeks ago.  So much has happened in such a short time....

We arrived in Florida on New Year's Eve with all the jitters and excitement that comes with moving into a new home.  Our rental home has a cheery, yellow living room and a bright green play room.  I set to work at unpacking boxes, eager to set up home.  It wasn't long before everything came to a halt.

{Moving in!}

 

Before leaving Alabama, the kiddos came down with a nasty cold.  Vincent was the worst, with a fever and ear infection.  Sophia developed a small cough but overall fared well, as she usually does.  A few days before the movers were scheduled to arrive, Luisa experienced a severe coughing fit.  Short, little coughs that grew in intensity until she appeared to be choking.  She turned bright red, eyes clearly in distress.  To be blunt, it freaked me out.  I immediately scheduled a doctor's appointment for both Vincent and Luisa.  Our pediatrician attributed Luisa's cough to post-nasal drip and said both kiddos appeared to be suffering from a virus.  The movers came and went, Vincent started to feel better, and Luisa experienced no more coughing fits.  Until we arrived in Florida. 

Only a few days after moving, Luisa's coughing fits increased in frequency and intensity, with bouts occurring 6-7 times a day. With each coughing fit I would hold her, trying to remain calm but inwardly panicking because she appeared to be choking and I was afraid she would stop breathing.  We did not immediately take her to the doctor since she wasn't running a fever and was continuing to eat well and smile.  A few days went by and the cough continued until one night I knew something was wrong.  An urgency laid on my heart to take her to the doctor as soon as possible.  I stayed up with Luisa all night praying she did not have what I suspected - whooping cough.  I even filmed one of her episodes to show the doctor the next morning. 

So only 5 days after arriving in Florida we found ourselves in the ER.  Upon hearing Luisa's symptoms, the local pediatrician (recommended by our landlords) asked us to go to the ER for further testing.  After showing the ER doctor Luisa's coughing video she ordered tests for RSV and pertussis (whooping cough) and a chest X-Ray.  Now I will be transparent with you.  There was a time in my life that I struggled greatly with anxiety.  God has worked in my heart since then and I've learned to trust Him, claiming His promises to be true.  As a result my anxiety has decreased over the years.  Yet when the ER doctor watched the video and responded with, "This looks like pertussis," I immediately began to worry, fearing the worst possible outcome.  The results for RSV came back positive.  Before we left the ER she was given an antibiotic to treat pertussis on the slim chance that she had both pertussis and RSV.  We were to return to the ER in 2 days for a follow-up and for the pertussis test results.  The next 48 hours were difficult.  I felt completely helpless as Luisa's body was overcome by coughing fits that would sometimes last as long as five minutes.  Yet I was also grateful that this illness was an anomaly, that otherwise she is a very healthy baby. 

On Saturday we returned to the ER to hear the wonderful news that Luisa was negative for pertussis. The doctor then listened to her lungs.  A "crackly" sound to her lungs caused the doctor to order a repeat chest x-ray.  Only one parent was allowed with Luisa.  I asked Tony to go so that he could review the X-Ray film.  While they were gone I sat in the small ER room thanking God for the negative pertussis results.  I felt great relief.  Imagine my surprise when the ER doctor came through the door and with great seriousness stated, "I'm sorry guys but the X-Ray does not look good.  She has severe bacterial pneumonia.We are going to have to admit her to the hospital."  I felt sick to my stomach as she then proceeded to go through every worst case scenario of this diagnosis.  At one point I actually stopped her and said, "You are scaring me."  This didn't faze her a bit.  Looking to Tony's face for reassurance, I noted his growing frustration.   After the doctor left the room Tony turned to me and said, "I really don't think it's as bad as she says it is.  Let's go upstairs and we will get a second opinion." 

Sure enough, two doctors confirmed Tony's suspicion, Luisa did have pneumonia but it wasn't severe and it wasn't uncommon for RSV to develop into pneumonia in small infants.  She would need to be monitored for 24 hours to establish that during the coughing fits her oxygen levels stayed within the normal range.  A doctor was in the room when she had one of her coughing spells.  He agreed that it looked a lot like pertussis.  He wanted her to complete the antibiotics for pertussis even though the results were negative.  She was started on another antibiotic for the pneumonia.  She was also given a shot of a different antibiotic but only after they blew two veins trying to put in an IV.  Luisa was bruised and exhausted.  I was worn-out and fearful.  Her oxygen levels stayed high all night, even during her coughing episodes.  We were released the next morning with antibiotics to treat the pneumonia.  Within two days the coughing fits were completely gone.

{Jean Jean helped the kiddos plan a "welcome home" party for Luisa.  Note the homemade streamers, balloons, and cupcakes.  Both kiddos were worried for their baby sister.}

When people hear about Luisa's illness they immediately say, "Wow!  Right in the middle of moving?!?!  Did you even have a doctor?"  No and we only knew two acquaintances to call for advice.  Yet, we never felt alone.  God works through people and God's people surrounded us with prayer and support.  Our Sunday School back home in Alabama prayed for us, sent us text messages, called us and surrounded us with their love even though we were hundreds of miles away.  My childhood church prayed.  Family prayed.  And we truly never felt alone.  Through it all Jean Jean was with us.  Making meals.  Watching Sophia and Vincent.  Holding things together.  A BSF member of my class here in Florida even brought a meal over.

 In the scheme of things, Luisa's illness was a self-contained, common virus that most children experience without complication.  I am grateful that Luisa is a healthy baby, that she does not struggle to breath on a daily basis.  These words come to mind:  "Count your blessings.  Name them one by one.  Count your blessings, see what God has done!"  We are blessed in so many ways.  Yet even knowing this, my old enemy, "fear," was lurking around, taunting me, worrying me during this ordeal.  And when I say "fear" I am not referring to healthy fear that spurs one on to action but rather paralyzing, worst-case scenario fear.  I called my BSF teaching leader in Alabama and asked her to pray for Luisa and also for my fear.  In her prayer she claimed the truth of perfect love driving out fear (1 John 4:18).  On the heels of her prayer and Luisa's illness we studied this scripture in BSF: "Do not be afraid, Abram.  I am your shield, your very great reward. (Genesis 15:1),"  The meaning of "shield" in this context includes God's sovereignty.  So God is our shield and in His sovereignty he allows certain things to happen in our lives.  He also prevents things from happening.  But no matter what happens in a day we know that it passed through God, our shield.  And since God loves me perfectly then I can trust that even if my worst fears came true, it passed through the loving hands of my Father first.  He will redeem it and work it for His good (Romans 8:28).  When I trust Him, His perfect love drives out my fear.

It was amazing to see how quickly Luisa recovered from her illness, thanks to all the prayers and the work of antibiotics (modern medicine is God's grace, for sure).  She turned 3 months old last week.  She smiles and giggles, delighting us all.  Thank you to everyone who prayed for Luisa.  I want to pay it forward and pray for you too.  And bring you meals.  And send you encouraging words.  When you are loved in word and deed you desire to do the same....

1/52

 

I've long admired "Project 365," and hoped to participate in 2013 as a way to document our adventure here in Florida.  Yet, the thought of taking one picture everyday and keeping up with said pictures overwhelmed me.  Cue "The 52 Project." 

I stumbled upon this project through the beautiful Rebekka Seale blog.  Check her out in my sidebar.  The concept was pioneered by Jodi over at Che and Fidel.   The idea behind The 52 Project is to take one picture of your children each week for a full year.  Watch them grow.  Document your life each week for one year.  Stand amazed that babies starting the year unable to hold up their head, end it with their first steps. 

The cherry on top of these child portraits will be capturing Florida, our neighborhood, the rigorous training we are ALL undergoing as Tony completes his fellowship year.  So, without further ado here is my 1/52 (I'm one week behind all the other bloggers participating):



"A portrait of my children, once a week, every week, in 2013."

 

Sophia:  Bow and arrow ready to shoot, she enjoys a ride to downtown Avondale.

 

Luisa:  Snuggled in the Ergo - right where she belongs. 

 

Vincent:  Enjoying his mango sorbet to the very last drop....

 



Need a Baby Fix?

This video contains all the baby goodness one heart can handle.  Yawning.  Cooing.  Smiling. And it ends with a few strange baby sounds that would trouble any mother's heart.  (Don't worry, she was just gagging on a little spit-up....)

Luisa is precious and sweet beyond words and has slept 8 hours the last 3 nights!  She is good to her momma in ways too numerable to recount in this short post.

How I've longed to blog lately.  But, alas, I've stayed busy with this:

And this:

And this: 

Until we are settled in Florida this January, short posts will have to do....

5 Minute Friday - Stay

I would like to stay in this cocoon of sameness.  Right here in our 1950's bungalow.  With the predictable schedule of preschool, Mother's Day Out, Bible Study Fellowship, and mornings spent burying my nose in  soft, newborn hair. 

I would like to stay under blankets of comforting knowledge of what lies ahead, nuzzled under soft cotton, safe from the frigid air of uncertainty.  But it's time to get out of bed, peek my toes out and touch the frigid floor.  It's time to go.  I can no longer stay tucked in tight.  So I will wrap my feet in warm house slippers, pour  a cup of coffee, and open my window to a whole new world.  Light will bathe a new home in a new place.  I will step outside and breathe fresh air, the stuffiness of sameness escaping through the front door.  I will break out of the cocoon and unfold my wings in a brand new place. 

**********

 

Just a little pep talk for our upcoming move.  What comes to your mind when you hear "stay?"  Will you join me in writing about it for 5 minutes over on Lisa-Jo's blog?



Blooming Where We are Planted

When I was a small child, my mother was an avid cross-stitcher.  Her handiwork adorned our home in places that offered ample time for contemplation - the bathroom, beside the kitchen sink, above a light switch.  Sayings included, "We grow old too soon and wise too late."  "Nothing tastes as good as being thin feels" (appropriately placed in the kitchen for motivation - this was the ONLY discussion of weight in our home), and the beautifully adorned, "Bloom Where You Are Planted." 

Right now, this family of 5 is planted firmly, solidly in Alabama.  In a quaint bubble of a community that appears idyllic and immune to the world's poisonous problems.  We moved here in 2007 a family of 3, one member nestled snugly within me.

 

And in just 5 1/2 years we have Bloomed - now a family of 5.  We walked in our front door naive to how parenthood would rock us, change us, grow us closer to Him.  In just 2 short months we will pull up our roots and leave like this:

{courtesy of Jill Aldridge photography}

 

A family of 5.  Time to plant ourselves somewhere new, even if it's just for a short time.  Through His grace and provision may we Bloom there too.  For His glory and for His purposes.

******

Linking up over on Lisa-Jo's blog for 5 Minute Friday.  Want to join me on the prompt "roots?"  Click the icon below:

 

Taking One Day at a Time

My grandmother offered sage advice every year on the first day of school.  After my brothers and I posed for the annual “first day of school” picture we walked towards our family Suburban and past my grandmother sitting on the front porch.  She would stop us and ask for a kiss before we left.  Then she would look us straight in the eye, usually while holding one of our hands, and say with great sincerity, “I hope you have a wonderful school year.  Remember, do what you are supposed to do each day and you will not get behind.”  It was practical advice, encouraging achievement and hard work.  I found the admonition to be rather odd.  There were so many other things to warn us about – peer pressure, moral integrity.  It strayed from the usual warnings to “mind our manners” and “be sweet.”  But every year, without fail, she counseled us to never get behind in our school work. 

Her advice and my response are prime examples of wisdom wasted on the young.  Only now, in my early 30’s, am I able to appreciate and strive to follow her counsel.  Never in all my years has this advice been more practical than now.  For you see, there are big things going on in the Morlandt house and choosing to bite off one task at a time is saving me from being eaten alive by all there is to do.

First, we are adjusting to Sophia attending school 5 days a week.  She started preschool at one of our local elementary schools.  This is a fantastic program that partners typically developing children with disabled children.  Evening meals now include lively discussions about magic ears (cochlear implants) and strollers have turned into wheelchairs overnight.  What a blessing to be a part of this unique preschool.  Sophia has to be there by 8:20 so leisurely mornings have turned into a highly coordinated dance to get out the door by 7:55. 

 

{First day of Preschool!}

Vincent attends Mother’s Day Out two days a week at a small, local church that reminds me of home. 

{Vincent on his first day of Mother's Day Out}

Packed lunches are a new part of our routine and I can be found each evening standing over a mountain of baggies containing grapes, lunch meat, cheese, pretzels, goldfish, and cups of yogurt.  When I’m finished packing the lunches and placing them in the refrigerator there must be a thorough cleaning of the counters BECAUSE….

Our house is now on the market and I try to leave the house “show ready” each morning.  This means I wake up and make all the beds, pick up clothes, stray toys, and place each dirty dish in dishwasher.  As I work, my grandmother’s words echo in my mind, “Do what you are supposed to do each day and you will never get behind.”  So for the first time in my life I am performing household chores on a daily, routine basis.  2 loads of laundry a day.  Wipe the counters each evening.  All toys put away before the small ones climb into bed.  Sink empty as the sun sets.  Dishwasher humming as I finally crawl beneath the covers.  And when we awake in the morning?  The house is orderly, fresh, and ready for a new day.  Why haven’t I been doing this all along?  Maybe because there is equal truth in the saying, “Cleaning with kids is like brushing your teeth while eating Oreos.” When small children are involved, keeping house can be quite the discouraging task.

Serenity is found in an orderly home.  Only now that I’m forced to keep my house in order am I reaping the benefit of the daily discipline I was admonished to cultivate by my grandmother all those years ago.  So when I survey all that is set to occur in the next four months including the arrival of baby #3, potential selling of our house, a move to a new city (more on that to come), and the changes that come with both kids in school I attempt to channel my inner “grandmother,” checking one thing off my list each day. 

{Deep cleaning one set of blinds a day....}

I’m broadening my grandmother's wisdom to include limiting my worry each day.  I ration my mind’s wanderings to only those things that need to be decided or done that day.  When I allow my thoughts to encompass all our current “what if’s,” I quickly become overwhelmed and accomplish nothing.  A powerful admonition comes to mind and I cling to it now, “Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself.  Each day has enough trouble of its own.”  (Matthew 6:34).  As I type I envision laying my head right there on My Father’s lap, allowing him to smooth back my hair and whisper those words.  And when a lump rises in my throat He’ll turn my chin to meet His eyes.  He’ll lean in and with a gentle smile say, “Sarah, are not two sparrows sold for a penny?  Yet not one of them will fall to the ground apart from the will of your Father.  And Sarah, even the very hairs of your head are all numbered.  So don’t be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows.” (Matthew 10:29-31).  Trusting Him this day and thanking Him for the wisdom imparted so many years ago to a brace-faced, immature girl by her loving grandmother.  “Remember Sarah, do what you are supposed to do each day and you will not get behind.”  One box a day.  Two lunches each evening.  One set of blinds each morning.  One task at a time and it will all get accomplished.  And for those things completely out of my control, trusting Him each day....