Grappling all of this. My visa. My baby, this little man who is so much a part of me. The future. My mind facing all of these seeming impossibilities. My heart swiftly throwing right back how I trust this God - this God of the impossible. This God who loves me, Jabez, and everyone involved. This God who has brought us through to this place. This beautiful place.
And standing there in the midst of the swirling water, dirty diaper and scrub brush in hand, I step past all my anxiety. And once again I'm there by his bedside, where he's 9-months-old again and lying so sick. And I, realizing that I can't keep him (late, yes, but not too late), place him back into the hands of his Father, where he so rightly belongs. With a heart at peace, but still breaking.
I realize how I trust Him. How He loves us. And how I will continue 'to trust in a way that I cannot see. . .that's what faith must be.'
"We have nothing to fear for the future, except as we shall forget how God has led us in the past."