The Portal: Portal-ity Thoughts

I lift up my eyes to the mountains where  does my help come from?   My help comes from the  Lord ,  the Maker of heaven and earth. Psalm 121 Yesterday, I wrote an article and submitted it to an online magazine.  In it, I made no reference to my faith – just grief.  I usually always end my writings with a positive faith-filled message.  But I didn’t.  Why?  Because someone commented on a piece I wrote, saying that it was "great up until the religious part."  Friends, without the religious part, the faith part, the actual reason for our hope part – it’s just words, in my opinion. So I wrote a sad piece on grief and what to expect, without sharing my hope. I'm about to correct that now. Because my hope, my faith, my Jesus? They are everything to me. I don’t understand a world where things just accidentally fell into place. Where there is no Creator, no author, no God of the Universe. ...

Before John died, I had a 3 a.m. conversation with the Lord one night.  I knew about the drugs.  I knew what that meant.  I had been pleading for his life, for his healing, for his willingness to get help, for his trauma - that he would accept counseling, try meds for depression, anything...something.  As his mom, my heart was broken, I didn't know what to do, and God quietly asked: "Do you trust me?"   Do you trust me either way?   Do you trust me if the answer isn't what you were hoping for?  If the outcome isn't the answer, isn't the solution you were hoping for?  Will you trust that I know the whole picture?  That I am the creator of the universe and that John is my child first? I cried for hours before I answered.  I begged and pleaded and I knew that I had to surrender.  I finally said "yes, I trust you no matter what.  I trust you with John's life and I trust you with mine."  On mornings like this o...