Jesus loves the little children
All the children of the world
Black and yellow, red and white
They're all precious in His sight
Jesus loves the little children of the world

Don’t you love this song?! Did your mama sing this to you when you were little or did you sing it at church? I sing this to Andrew every night while rocking him to sleep. The words are so familiar to me since I, like many of you, grew up singing it. Not until I started singing it to my baby, however did the song take on a new meaning.

It is not difficult for me to see the truth in these words when I look at Andrew. He is sweet, with chubby little cheeks. He has 8 little gappy teeth standing like good little soldiers through his baby grin. His new tactic for making love him is how he interacts with our dog, Richard. Andrew loves Richard as much as any boy could love his dog. The mere sight of that doggie makes his cackle out loud. I catch him from time to time lying with his head on Richard’s bed, face to face with our canine love just carrying on the most interesting of conversations. Well, Andrew thinks it’s interesting anyway. So, who couldn’t love a child like that?

When I sing this song, however, it is not Andrew’s face that I see. I see the faces of children who I have never met, have never seen. I see children in India, China, Uganda and other places whose countries name I could never spell. I see juveniles who have been given up on and adults who are in prison. I see children, people who are not all that loveable and then I smile.

Why do I smile? I smile because it is this simple little children’s song that reminds me how great a love the father has lavished upon us. I smile because God has once again reminded me that I am called to love the unlovely. I smile because I am worthy, and so are you because we are loved.

I have a coworker who I am very fond of. I actually have several coworkers that I am very fond of and pray for daily. You see, I am surrounded by Muslims at my office. They are nice, funny, and considerate; a complete 180˚ from what we have grown to fear. This one particular coworker has just become a first time father. His wife miscarried last year and this pregnancy was no cake walk. He was ecstatic the day his daughter arrived, safely.

When I read the birth announcement I had such mixed emotions. It was much like a Christians would be, except Allah was used a lot rather than God or Lord. I was thankful that she arrived safe, but saddened that she would not be raised to know Jesus. Isn’t that just like we humans? To think that the only way a child can grow up to know the Lord is to be born into a Christian home!?

Read the words to that song again. Smile & rejoice! There is hope in those 5 little lines. That baby was born for a purpose. Jesus loves her and has a purpose for her just as he has a purpose for Andrew and for you and me. It is up to her to seek out her purpose and up to Andrew to seek out his purpose. It is up to me to continue to pray that they will do just that as I continue to seek my purpose.

Do you write people off as a lost cause because of what they look like or where they come from? What a tragedy. Jesus loves the little children. Isn’t it funny how sometimes God uses the most minor of things, such as a children’s song to remind us of who He is.

And Jesus answered and said unto her, Martha, Martha, thou art careful and troubled about many things: But one thing is needful: and Mary hath chosen that good part, which shall not be taken away from her. Luke 10:41-42


So, it has been a while since my last entry and for that I am sorry. There are a couple of reasons as to why I have been absent for over a month. First, I have been swamped at worked. I am talking stress overload, but I am not complaining since I have long waited for the opportunity to use my programming abilities at this level. The other and most important reason for this is far more significant.

This blog is just a simple blog for many people and for many others it is much more. For me, this blog is comfort, reassurance, therapy and accountability. I started doing this because I felt led to for reasons unknown to me then and now. I have been transparent my entire life and only now does it seem right to let people into the most personal parts of mind and thoughts. So, why is it that all of a sudden I have writers block? It can’t be because I am busy; even at my busiest I can write an entry in under 15 minutes. It’s because my words are not my words and my thoughts are not my thoughts.

Did I mention that I have been super busy as of late? Have you noticed that if one area of your life is chaotic it affects all other areas of your life? I have been so rushed at work that when I get home my brain will not shut off. Instead of cooking and doing laundry, I find myself struggling to get a frozen pizza in the oven let alone sort the whites from the darks. The alarm goes off in the morning and I am like a jet: gym, shower, dressed, Andrew up & dressed, dog walked, grab the laptop, throw Andrew out at school, get coffee and begin the work day. That’s been my schedule for a few weeks now. Do you notice anything missing in there? If not, it may be missing from your own life as well. I have been so busy getting everything done that I pushed my quiet time with the Lord back, so far back He fell out of my day. That wasn’t the intention, but it rarely is, isn’t it? Very innocent and unintentional, but if not caught and corrected it will have major ramifications on my life and yours.

This blog is God inspired, I know that. I know that when I lose connection with The Source, I lose the ability to write what he would have me write. I am not a writer, but as long as God places things on my heart, I will write them. I am thankful for these times of revelation when God reiterates who He is and where He is supposed to be in my life. When I am frustrated and wondering why I can’t put into words what is on my heart and I get the gentle reminder that my priorities are out of whack.

God does not have to use me in any way whatsoever, nor does he have to use you. He wants to use us, he has a plan for us, but if we don’t have time for him, he will find someone else to use. I have no idea what the Lord has planned for me, but I don’t want to miss it because my job was so busy or the laundry was calling. Are you too busy? Is God using you the way He intended to? Let’s choose the good part!

Before I formed you in the womb, I knew you. Before you were born, I set you apart for my holy purpose. I appointed you to be a prophet to the nations. Jeremiah 1:5

My how time flies! Today is a very special day in our house, in our world… Andrew is 1 year old today. One glorious, awe filled, tiring, ever changing year ago today, our lives took and extreme turn – to the right.

There are so many things I would not recommend you do in life. For example, I would not recommend you ride your bike with no hands and attempt to roll over a big rock at the same time. That can leave a horrible scar on your face. I would not recommend picking up a piece of ash from a smoldering fire just because the gray glow is so pretty… ouch! I would also not recommend being 3 months pregnant and 3 weeks married. No, there is a reason that God has an order for things in life as George and I quickly found out.

The morning of May 13, 2008 started out like no other morning of my life. I lay awake all night trying to imagine what life would be like in the next few days as we became a family of three. How wonderful it would be to finally be thin again (because I was sure that would happen within a few days). How much fun it would be to take Andrew places and show him off. Then I started to panic at the reality of this situation. George and I would never be able to go to the movies again. We could never just fly by the seat of out pants. Everywhere we go, we have to remember to take this kid. How am I going to remember to take him when I am so prone to forgetting my keys!? I had the preverbal breakdown and cried “I’ve changed my mind!”… to late of course.

We got to the hospital at 5:00 in the a.m. and they checked me out and got me all set up. Now, I should have known the day was going to be rough when the initial exam hurt worse than anything I had ever experienced. Come to find out, I had a UTI that had gone undetected and now could not be treated until after birth. Fantastic! They came in around 10:00 to break my water with what looked suspiciously like a crochet needle… hook… dagger. Everyone told me this part was a piece of cake. Well, just FYI, I have finally found a cake I could do without. As the good Lord above as my witness, I got the epidural as a means of escaping the pain caused by that UTI.

The day dragged on and I was not dilating at all. So, around 5:00 Dr Tal came in and spoke with me about having a c-section. Mama near ‘bout fainted! He said I could labor for another 10 hours, but the c-section was going to be the likely outcome. It was a no brainer for me. So, I got ready for surgery and George & mama got ready too. I remember lying on the operating table, looking at the clock and it was 5:45 pm and I asked ‘How long will it take to get him out’? I was astounded when Dr Tal said ‘Less than 15 minutes’. I would see my baby face to face in less than 15 minutes… I cried. I sobbed!

I have never told anyone why I was crying. It wasn’t they typical tears that are cried on the day you give birth. I cried because I was minutes away from meeting the baby I had prayed to miscarry. I couldn’t be the one to get pregnant before I was married! I couldn’t disappoint everyone with such news. I prayed to miscarry before the whole world found out my hypocrisy. This is very hard to admit, hard to type the words knowing that some will read this and remember their own miscarriage. There are many who long for a baby and cannot get pregnant. There are many who have lost children before or after birth. And then there is me. Hard to admit those feelings, but they were real.

It is important for me to say that I believe God always answers our prayers! Might I also say that I will forever be thankful that He loves us enough to sometimes answer with a no! I gave birth just like any other first time mother… unaware of what was about to take place. Let’s face it, for the first month I wasn’t even sure I liked him. It took mama to point out that the feeling would soon pass. It did and it has been a ride ever since.

I have been pooped on, peed on and thrown up on. I still can’t wear most of my pre-pregnancy clothes and have stretch marks that will never go away. I have not eaten a hot meal in one full year, have not sleep a full night nor gotten through a full hour of TV. Am I complaining? No, I am not (although I have my moments). I wouldn't trade any of this for anything I had before.

I have looked into the eyes of my flesh & blood. I have heard him laugh and laughed with him. I have heard him cry and cried with him. I have jumped up and down in the excitement of a first tooth. Called family with pride when he decided he could hold his own bottle. And yesterday, wanted to take out a full page ad in the Houston Chronicle announcing he blew kisses as we left school.

Andrew was fearfully & wonderfully made, in the image of God, for a divine purpose. There is no one on this earth like him. He makes me appreciate my parents, family, husband and sleep so much more than I ever did. He makes my heart smile just thinking of him and simplicity is so much more appealing. He makes things good…

So, here we are, raising a baby in the honeymoon phase of our marriage. It’s difficult, tiring and downright overwhelming at times. I wouldn’t recommend starting out your marriage by decorating a nursery, it’s puts you into fast forward long before you need to be in fast forward. I suppose, however that being a parent at any stage is difficult, tiring and overwhelming. Would I do things different? Well, does it really matter? My sweet gift from God is 1 today, and to me, today, nothing else matters.

Her children rise up, and call her blessed! Proverbs 31:28

This weekend is Mothers Day… and if you haven’t already done so, you need to get a gift or some form of acknowledgement for your mother as well as the other women who have had a profound impact on your life. I have been celebrating Mother’s Day for… hmm, 31 years now, granted some of that time was without knowing. It is only this year though that it makes sense to me. This year I became a mother and now I get it. I get why ‘Mamas’ are to be celebrated.

My mom does not see her value at all. She would tell you that she isn’t pretty, has too many wrinkles, fuzzy hair, a bummed up foot and thanks to some local jealousy, she would also tell you that she is perceived to not be nice. None of this is true of course (well, her foot does need some work), but this is how she perceives herself. Today, in the spirit of Mother’s Day, I want to tell you how I perceive her.

When I was in 1st or 2nd grade, I had a classmate that was very poor. I didn’t realize that she was poor at the time, but I knew she was different, everyone did… and everyone made fun of her; I made fun of her. Mama found out about this and I honestly can’t remember if I got a spanking or not, but I do remember being told that I had to apologize to her the next day. The very next day, I did just as I was told and I apologized to the girl. I will never, ever forget the look on her face as she thanked me for my apology and confirmed that my teasing had hurt her feelings. I am so thankful that I was made to apologize, through that, mama taught me to be kind to people and to say “I’m Sorry” when I am wrong.

The summer before I went into 8th grade I found myself with no friends. The friends I had previously proved to be bad influences and had to be turned loose. So, as the first day of school approached my fears increased, after all, you cannot start school with no one to eat lunch with. So, mama and I prayed every night that God would send me a friend… And he did. He actually renewed my friendship with Sandy who was my best friend from the time we were 3 years old. We are great friends to this very day because God joined us as such. I look back at those few months and see mama as the person who not only taught me to pray, but to know that God hears those prayers.

When I was in High School mama made me get a job if I wanted to go Europe (Sandy went too) because I would have to pay for it. This meant sacrificing a car for a year, but it was worth it. I flipped burgers at McDonalds after school everyday and then had to be there at 4:45 every Saturday morning. Mama would stand at the door as left for work on those mornings in her nightgown until she could no longer see my taillights (I was of course driving her car) and then she would call at 5:00 to make sure I got there safely. I don’t think she ever did go back to sleep. Europe is as vivid in my mind today as it was in person 13 years ago. Mama is the person who taught me that sacrifice and hard work make the reward so much sweeter and also that teaching your child this lesson sometimes means you have to sacrifice too.

Mama didn’t work on Mondays and if I close my eyes today I can still smell the crisp, spring air coming through the open windows of the freshly cleaned house when I got home from school. Monday’s were my favorite day! Ty & daddy were working and so mama and I would always go to Burger King and get chicken tenders with ranch dressing and a coke. Then we would go see Grandma at work and spend some time with her. What was a typical Monday then (which packed on nearly 15 pounds) are precious memories now. Every child should have sweet, innocent times with their parents and grandparents. Those days passed too quickly, but Mama taught me to keep a clean house, cherish simplicity and, most importantly, to love Grandma. And I do… all three.

I soon graduated from High School, then college and quickly (seems quick now) I found myself in Virginia as a naive career girl. I thought I was a smart career woman, but I soon found out otherwise. My nice, classy coworkers were neither nice nor classy… in fact they were down right mean. My boss wasn’t much better and I found myself crying at night more often than not. I called mama and recounted numerous stories just sure I would finally have someone on my side. Not so… she would always point out what I did wrong in the situation and encourage me to either apologize or correct my behavior. She saw the mistreatment, but she knew that neither of us could force the actions of others and that I was called to be a separate people. As I worked on me – my work ethic and attitude, the situation remained the same, but I was able to weather the storm. Today, I am a much better employee and confident in my skills. Mama has always taught me know when the ball isn’t in my court and to do my job as unto the Lord.

Mama taught me to be a lady. She taught me the basics like wearing a slip when you wear a dress and also to wear a dress. She taught me to sit up straight (George is still trying to drive this point home), not to wear white before Easter, send ‘Thank You’ notes and proper manners when addressing your elders and to love my mother in law.. She taught me far more than I could ever put into words.

I must mention, however that she is not the only woman who has had great influence on my life. I could go on and on about various ladies who have played a role in me becoming who I am today. For example, two of the greatest things that I have ever learned were taught to me by Aunt Sue. First, she taught me how to chew with my mouth shut. I remember sitting at the table eating and her telling me to close mouth. I never said a word, but I remember thinking ‘if I close my mouth I will suffocate!’… The second, and most important thing I learned from her, is that if anything ever, God Forbid, were to happen to mama, she would be there, filling in the void to the best of her ability and loving us unconditionally. Every child should have a mama, but what a blessing to also have an Aunt Sue!

So, while my mom may see nothing more than wrinkles and fuzzy hair when she looks in the mirror, I see the woman I hope to become. I pray Andrew gets all the blessings that I have gotten and more. Happy Mothers Day Mama and to all the women who have blessed me for so long.

All marriages are happy. It's the living together afterward that causes all the trouble. ~Raymond Hull

Ok, have you ever heard two people tell the exact same story and stood in amazement at how different the two versions are? Well, such is the case of a husband and wife I know… we’ll call them Gibby & Leorge. Oh, what the heck… it’s really me & George. Everyday I have a story about him and as I am telling it to whomever (typically mama) I am thinking ‘How would he be telling his side’. No doubt he would leave out some very important details and paint me in a bad light… not at all like the story should be told.

Let me tell you today’s story… come, sit at my feet, listen and use your imagination to paint the pictures. First, I need to tell you how our mornings are supposed to work. I get up at 4:45 and am out the door at 4:57 for my morning workout which ends at exactly 6:00 putting me home by 6:10. I then come in and do one of two things. I get in the shower while George sleeps in or if he is already in the shower I pack the diaper bag, get the iron turned on and get my clothes ready to be ironed. I cannot iron until Andrew gets up since the sound of the ironing board unfolding is so shrill it wakes him up.

Regardless of either of these two paths, I have my morning quiet time while George is in the shower. I have 20-25 minutes totally uninterrupted and I enjoy it. No, it’s not an hour and half, but I do try to make the most of that time. I have prayed and asked God to give me a time that was unrushed and uninterrupted for quality time with Him, and this is the time he has given me. I sit in our study (we called it an office until Aunt Sue very politely said ‘Baby it’s called a study’) in 1 of our nice new recliners (they are somewhere between retro & ghetto and I love them). Lamp on and blinds open I open the devotional and read the passage from the bible… as I read I hear the birds chirp and the sun is rising. It has become essential for my morning and I begin my prayer time the same way ‘Thank you Lord for this time with you…’ I am so thankful for those 20-25 minutes.

This sets up the remainder of the morning, which is rushed, but pleasant and it works for the 3 of us. And so, I got up this* morning with all good intentions that today would be no different… WRONG!

I get home at 6:11 – now you can see we are already 1 minute off schedule here and I have no doubt that this one minute totally turned everything upside down. I come in and turn on the iron and get the diaper bag ready since I could hear George in the shower. I go in and say ‘Morning Georgie’ on my way to the closet to get my pants. I walked back out of the room, pants in tow, but said nothing more to Georgie. Put the pants in the laundry room and settled in my chair. Now, something in my mind said ‘You should have told George you were going to read your bible’, but that ship had sailed. Before I go any further, I must say that while our house isn’t enormous, it isn’t small either; trips from the front to the back are a hassle.

I am 3 verses in to the scripture passage and I hear ‘Liibbbbby’… I ignore it. Six verses in and I hear ‘LLLLiiiibbyyyy’. The second ‘Libby’ was even more playful than the first and gave no hint that anything was wrong… again I ignored. At this point I thought to myself ‘He will realize that I am not in the room and am not coming and he will stop calling my name’… WRONG, he called again. I really thought at this time he was out of the shower and if he really needed me he would come find me.

So, I started my prayer time ‘Lord thank you for this time with you…’ LIBBBYYYYY! Since I was already in prayer, I just gripped my hands and through gritted teeth said ‘Oh dear Lord, if he wakes up Andrew I am going to kill him. Seriously, if he needs a towel can’t he just get it himself?!’ I continued to pray and act like I was focused and when it came time to pray for George, I did. I may have called him an idiot though, I can’t be entirely sure, after all I was only acting like I was focused. He called at least 6 times… SIX TIMES!

I finally was done with my ‘quiet’ time and headed to the bathroom for my shower. I opened the door and sweet Georgie is still in the shower. So, he asks where I have been, he has been calling for 20 minutes. I reply ‘Yes, and I would have thought you could have figured out I wasn’t coming. I need to get in the shower’. I may or may not have said ‘Get Out’. He says ‘I needed a razor and would be out if you had given it to me’… and it went on from there. I was rushing to get ready, because now I was a good 15 minutes behind schedule, Andrew woke up early and George was ready to leave early. Nothing was out for dinner, had nothing to grab for breakfast and had a zit on my chin! We have now stopped talking aloud to each other but I am sure we are really giving each other a lashing in our own minds; I sure was.

By the time I got out the door this morning George had taken the time to dress Andrew, I decided to go by Starbucks for breakfast (they have good oatmeal) and frozen pizza would have to do for dinner. Andrew looked adorable (of course) and I managed a quick picture before we left all the while giving a loving, if not forced, smile, kiss and a ‘Love You’ to George. And we were done… on time.

I laughed on the way to work as I replayed how annoying he was this morning and thought he was probably replaying how annoying I was. I am sure we have 2 different versions of how that time went. Perhaps my quiet time would have gone better if I cut it short to answer George on the second call. Perhaps it would have gone great if he had just gotten out the shower to get his own razor. This I know for sure, we both contributed to the chaos that was our morning. I also know that we are growing and by the time I was a mile down the road, he had already called. The phone call ended, as it always does, with ‘Love you babe’… this time not forced.

* 'This morning' was actually a few days ago. This morning was actually smooth, despite oversleeping!

Don’t you be afraid, for I am with you. Don’t be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you. Yes, I will help you. Yes, I will uphold you with the right hand of my righteousness. Isaiah 41:10



Fear… when you think of fear, what do you think of? Being at home alone and hearing a strange sound at 3 in the morning? Maybe just hearing the theme song from Jaws strikes a little fear in your heart? Snakes, spiders or big fat rats are a major fear for most women (and men) that I know. This type of fear causes momentary panic that passes once you realize that strange sounds was just the ice maker filling up with water, the song stops playing or you find relief in the fact that those snakes are behind glass at the zoo.

What about the fear that causes the joy to be sucked right out of your life and leaves you paralyzed day in and day out? This is something that I know a lot about. You may be shocked to know that fear causes me to cry myself to sleep many nights. No one really knows about this except me and the Almighty Himself – not even George who is sleeping mere inches from my sobbing head. I have learned to sob quietly.

I remember way back when I was a freshman in college promising myself that I would not ever let fear control my life. I did not tell myself this in an effort to comfort my current fears since at the time I didn’t realize this would be a battle for me. Rather, I knew I would graduate and move far away from my family and though it would be scary, this was what I knew I would be doing. That was easy though, the thought excited me – I don’t recall ever being scared. People told me I should be scared so I made this proclamation to them and myself. Funny, though, that that proclamation has always stayed in the forefront of my mind. I didn’t need to lean on that promise then, but I do now.

Fear really started in my mid-twenties and gets progressively worse with each passing day. I have feared everything. For a while my fear was that I would never get married & have children and then when I was old I would have no one to drive me the nursing home. Now, this is funny even as I type it, but I literally cried myself to sleep many nights over this. Growing old all alone… who wants to do that? Then I feared I had cancer because when I got out of the shower I had purple spots on my legs – cancer was the only logical conclusion. It never occurred to me that I have very fair skin and take much too hot of a shower. Then I feared that I would have heart attack at the gym, but thankfully they now have portable defibrillators located throughout the place so I just workout on the machines near those. It only makes sense right? I mean that way when I do go down they don’t have to move the machine that far to revive me!

This has all been easy enough to deal with, but now I have Andrew. I am now truly living for something, for someone and I want to live a very long time. And I want him to live even longer. Now my fears are very debilitating. Cancer… I could get cancer and not be able to raise my baby. Car accident… who’s to say it won’t be me in that fiery crash today? My biggest fear is that something will happen to Andrew. I fear every single day of my life that I will leave him in the car all day while I am work. That happens all the time. I fear that something will happen to him because of something I did. I am very careful about any news story I hear or read. If it happened to a child or a young mother, I can’t listen to it. It cripples me… literally. Everyday, all throughout the day, I battle fear.

I know there are many who would say that fear has no place in the life of a Christian, and I somewhat agree. But my fear and anxiety, well that’s just the thorn in my flesh. God uses it to draw me close to him. You see, my fears are about things that no one on this earth can prevent and that God himself may choose not to prevent. That is the reality of life. The good news is that I have the reality of Jesus… the freedom from fear. That freedom doesn’t mean that fear is no longer a part of my life – it will always be a part of my life.

When I cry myself to sleep at night, I do so while pouring out my fears before the Lord. Lord, I don’t want to get cancer and die until Andrew is grown. Lord, please let me live long enough to raise him to know you. Please Lord give me the wisdom to keep him safe at all times. Lord, I am scared. Every single time the same thing happens. Peace… He gives me peace & rest. He calms my fears. Never once does he say “You won’t die young”, “there won’t be an accident” or “Andrew will always be safe”. No, there is just peace that God is sovereign and in control. And every time I find myself in momentary awe and worship of the one who created me and has allowed me to fear. And that is what it is all about… the end result of our struggles should always be worship.

Fear is the thorn in my flesh and it keeps me continually at the feet of Jesus. I may be wrong, but I think it will always be there… keeping me where I need to be. I now realize that the promise I made myself back in college was not ‘Libby Inspired’, but rather ‘God Inspired’. He knew then what I would need now and he gave me something to cling to. What is your thorn? Are you praying that God will remove it? He may not. Your thorn may be the one thing that brings him the most worship and through worship, freedom is found.

Therefore, humble yourselves under the mighty hand of God, so that at the proper time he may exalt you.1 Peter 5:6

So, I am sitting here in the LA airport trying desperately to get home to Houston. My flight was scheduled at 5:00 this afternoon, but I was given permission to try and fly standby since the company messed up by booking me so late. So, I got to the airport at 10:00 this morning and have not made any flight yet. It is now 3:00 and am guaranteed the next flight since that was my original flight.
Now, this may seem like no big deal to you, but I cannot stop crying. I am tired since my days this week started at 5:00 am and I wasn't back to the hotel until 10:00 pm each night. When I left Houston on Monday, I left baby Andrew with fever and an ear infection. Aunt Sue flew into Houston today for the weekend and is now at the house waiting for me and it will be another 8 hours before I get there. My name got dropped from the standby list and therefore I lost my shot at the 2:25 flight. It was at this point I broke down and sobbed like a baby.
I did meet a nice gentleman that works for the airline and he got me into the presidents club. I have enjoyed leather seats, Internet & free coffee and drinks. But I really just want to kiss my baby and he is in Houston.
So, I decided to fiddle around on the internet and I found the Newsboys new song on YouTube - you can listen here http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NdQje_gJ0ko . In the Hands of God... am in the hands of God even sitting in the airport. I don't know why he want me on the 5:00 flight, but he does. I am not happy about it, but I fly in the hands of God. I am crying and tired, but I love Him and I trust him. I think he wants me to go have a very nice meal in the airport and charge it to the company, I think Jesus would like that a lot.
Trusting the Lord in what seems trivial and irritating is just what He wants us to do. Why, Lord, could I not fly out at 11:30 this morning? I don't have the answer for that, but I do know that I am in the hands of God.

Here are the lyrics for those of you who can't get on you tube:

We have raised our hopes and our cities high
We have followed fragile dreams
But only One could take the measure of our goals
And we've stumbled over the trials of life
And we've wrestled the unseen
But only One can calm the storm inside our souls

In the hands of God we will fall
Rest for the restless, and the weary
Hope for the sinner
In the hands of God we stand tall
Hands that are mighty to deliver
Giving us freedom
When our strength gave way to the weight of guilt
'Til we strained for every breath
Only One could lift our shame and make us well
And when all is finished and we face
The fearsome power of death
Only One has overcome the gates of hell
You're amazing You're amazing, You are
And we praise You, Lord For what Your hands have done