I've been wanting to put together a post about my new 6:10am events.
It was supposed to go something like, "Blame it on the ipod....bla bla bla, last week I whispered to my ipod, 'If you work tomorrow morning, I'll start running again,' bla bla."
And it did. It worked that next morning, and it has all 4 of the mornings that I've ran since. Dependable little buggar.
So, I've started running again. And I was going to write all about it. But, frankly, other things have been on my mind. And I find it hard to talk about mindless, futile things when there are vital events in need of my time. Time used for prayer.
A dear sweet friend and her unborn baby need prayer. You can read about the mountain they're climbing here.
And, despite the intensity of the situation, she is still standing strong in the God that is above all.
She is still praising the One who is responsible for speaking our universe into existence.
She is still passionately embracing Him through every turn of these events.
She still has faith that can move mountains.
In Psalms 139 there are verses that I read, reread, and doubly reread while we were climbing our own mountain with the twins. I find comfort in knowing this is the God that I praise. The same God that is above every mountain that each one of us often finds ourselves climbing.
You made all the delicate, inner parts of my body,
and knit me together in my mother’s womb.
Thank you for making me so wonderfully complex!
Your workmanship is marvelous—how well I know it.
You watched me as I was being formed in utter seclusion,
as I was woven together in the dark of the womb.
You saw me before I was born.
Every day of my life was recorded in your book.
Every moment was laid out before a single day had passed.
How precious are your thoughts about me, O God.
They cannot be numbered!
I can’t even count them;
they outnumber the grains of sand!
And when I wake up, you are still with me!
Please join with me in prayer.