It’s true. I’ve seen it a million times in my life. Just when I think I’ve prayed one too many times, I can kneel and pray again and receive an answer and I understand that I am forgiven for being weak—that was part of the plan. How else would we come to rely on the Lord?
Last night my body was spent. I didn’t think I would make it to the end of the night. Jake had a meeting so I was on my own and I needed a miracle. (seriously, sister, I can’t tell you how sore and exhausted and miserable I was. And in so much pain, physically.) So after putting the babies to bed I practically fell onto the floor and prayed long and hard. I picked myself up and came downstairs to find that I had the energy I needed to be the mom for the rest of the little people. My own little miracle. It may be small, but it’s my small life, so it seemed big to me.
And that made me thankful.
And it improved my relationship with my Father.
And I am changed. For the millionth time.
Because the flesh is weak, sister. Thank the heavens for prayer.
I took these pictures. I made this stuff with my own two hands. I wrote these words. It's just a bunch of craziness, but it's what in this noggin. If you're going to use any of my stuff for your own stuff, just ask me. (I'm sure I'll say yes. I'm nice like that.) And a little linkie love never hurt anyone if you know what I'm sayin;)