Dear God...

How are you doing? This has been a pretty tough week. I don't think I've really handled all my stuff very well. I'm sorry about that. You know my freak out tendency is pretty high, and it seems like I've lived there for about a month-and-a-half now.

I keep coming back to the sovereignty thing, and generally it's a help. Too many times I don't get there quick enough, though. Like today when Jack got sick and had to go to the doctor. Eventually I remembered that you love him too, and you're the only one who can really take care of him. Then there's the money piece. All that stuff really had to hit at once? Couldn't it have been spread out a little bit? Or not happened at all? Especially that one. We did everything right, we turned the machine in and still had to pay for it. Isn't that injustice?

But you're God. And right now I need to see you that way. I need to believe that you're bigger than doctors diagnoses or financial projections. You're even bigger than that bottom line on my bank statement. You'e Immanuel, God with us. You're very near, very close, and you care about me. You want me to hear your voice. You want me to know that you're involved. I get locked up in thinking that always means you want me to know exactly what you're doing. Right now I guess you just want me to know you're doing something, and be OK with that.

I need you to promise me that it'll all be alright. That doesn't mean it has to be just like I want it or like I envision it, but I need to know from you that it'll be alright. Whatever that means, it will be alright, won't it?

I'm sorry it took me so long to get here. Help me get here sooner. You're doing a good job. I'm grateful. Forgive me when I'm not. Oh, and can you please open up Jackson's airways? He's such a trooper. Let him know you're with him too.

I love you. I don't do it very well sometimes, but I love you. Thank you for taking care of me. Thank you for letting me be a spoiled kid sometimes.

For you Jesus,

Amen