Last Sunday I went to church with a friend. We had made plans for lunch after we each went to our respective churches. I decided at the last minute just to go to her church with her. She was so excited that I changed my mind. As odd as this sounds it was really nice to see some one get excited about being at church with me. While I was there we sang a song that prompted my question: "What's in your heart; faith or fear?" Your answers were encouraging because they were honest; I thought. My answer? FEAR. Why? Of what?

Not of Michael being gone. There is no fear there. For some reason I have this confidence and assurance that he will be home to me. That I will again hold him in my arms and know the security and solidity of my man. No, I don't take that for granted. I know how much my Michael loves His Jesus and how seriously he takes his commitment to me. He loves me.

So that takes me back to fear of what? Fear of failure, not being good enough. Never measuring up. That fear is not of God. I know that scripture tells me that. He will never leave me or forsake me. I am not worthy, I am saved by grace. I am a Princess, a child of THE King. I know that with my head but for some reason unbeknowst to me I doubt it with my heart. That's what allows the fear to take root.

So last Sunday through the preaching and singing at my friend's church I learned that I'm rooted in unreasonable fear.

The last couple of weeks I have come across blogs that talk about prayer. I wish I could link you to them. So I could hear God introducing a new theme to me. There is power in prayer. Prayer can change things. It can take my fear and turn it into faith. Oh don't get me wrong, I got the talking part down. There is nothing I won't say or ask to Jesus in prayer. I tell Him just what I think and ask for it all. I even know that when I'm hurting and my prayers are only just groanings and noise that the Holy Spirit will take that noise and interpret it to Jesus.

No, it's not the talking that's my problem. It's the listening. The being still part. Reading the Bible. Oh I read it. I enjoy the scriptures. But I don't slow down long enough to soak it up and HEAR what Jesus wants me to know.

Today I made it to my church. Both of my children were with me. As one of my friends put it, I was doing the happy dance. Yes, it felt good to be in my church with my kids.

Do you guys remember months ago I wrote a post about Travis. He was a little boy in the Sunday School that I was teaching at the time. He came on the bus and had a really hard time adjusting to being in his class with out his brother. Today, at church he was there with a man. This man introduced himself as Travis' dad. Talk about a happy dance! I was so excited to know that this man was at church with Travis.

Then... during the closing prayer I asked my son to quit making noise. It was a suttle noise, but my eyes were closed and he was bothering me.
He responded with a LOUD whisper that he wasn't making any noise. I am just so very sure that the entire church heard him. He beelined it to the car as soon as amen was said.

When I made it to the car I explained that he was disturbing me, that was why I said something. He told me that if I didn't want to be disturbed at church then I shouldn't bring him, he didn't want to listen to that "Jesus psyco babble". Oh yea. Folks I didn't twist his arm and make him come to church with me. He was very angry about something and he told me it wasn't me. I left the car found a corner to cry in. Got myself together, tracked down my daughter and we left.

The rest of the day went ok, once I was able to choke down the tears enough to pretend all was well.

I'm not sure why I shared all that. Only that my heart breaks for my kids. It takes all I have to keep from thinking that I did some thing wrong in their raising. I have to constantly self talk, reassuring myself that God is big enough to handle the problem. Both of my kids claim a salvation experience. I see no fruit. Again, God is big enough and knows their heart. Here again is my fear, not my faith. God loves my kids far more than I could ever dream of loving them and I love them A LOT!