Be still and know

You know we're under stress when you can hear 90s worship music playing while my husband makes dinner.  My slightly weird wonderful husband seems to access his inner Pentecostal when life gets out of control, which is why God's Property was blasting as he made tacos last night.  Incidentally, as long as he continues to make tacos, he can listen to any music he wants.  GP are you with me?  (Consider yourself very cool if you get that reference).  

While Matt faces problems with worship music, I take the less mature approach and try to avoid them.  Which is why I've watched way too much television in the last few days and would prefer to fast forward my life to Thursday.  Why Thursday?  Because today and tomorrow stress me out, and I'm not a fan of stress.  Today we have our 20 week ultrasound.  And as thrilled as I am to feel this little guy kicking and squirming inside of me, I don't think I'll shake the fear that something will go terribly wrong until they place him securely in my arms.  Call me crazy, but I don't have a lot of confidence in my uterus these days.  And tomorrow we are going (back) to court.  Not for the usual check in and review of the same motions lawyers have been filing every month for almost a year.  This court date seems to actually matter in the great debate of where these precious children will grow up and most likely I'll be asked to testify and answer questions about our 3 year old's story.  She's been talking a lot lately about what happened to her when she was at home, and I'm the voice that will speak for her tomorrow.  My voice doesn't carry much weight, it doesn't get a say in decisions that will be made.  But my voice is her voice, and for at least a few moments, I have the chance to make her voice heard.  The terrifying part of this isn't just knowing that in the grand scheme of lawyers and judges and social workers, my voice is powerless.  It's the fear that my voice is inadequate.  I can't control a courtroom with my words, and I can't give this little girl the life she deserves with a little speech.  So my prayer is that tomorrow it will not be my voice that speaks for her but it will be God's.  Because His words don't return void.  They don't lack authority.  They won't fail her.  His words spoke the world into existence, and I know they can speak truth that will set her free.  

Today before the girls left for school we practiced the verse they are working on at church: Psalms 46:10 states "Be still and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth."

Be still.  Know that I am God.

I put too much faith in people and systems, in judges and lawyers and court rooms.  Not because I believe in them, but because I believe in their power.  In a sense, I exalt them, because to exalt means to lift up, to raise or elevate.  Over and over again God has proved to be this little girl's refuge, her safe place.  He has rescued her, He will redeem her.  I'm just given the privilege of being a part of His plan, a tool that He uses.  Plenty of people have competed to be the villain in her story, but only He is the hero.  Because her story is His story, and throughout Scripture we see that while suffering happens, pain is endured, and hardship threatens to overwhelm, God never leaves or forsakes us and He promises to carry us through it all.  

So as we listen to outdated worship music and watch too much television, and most importantly drop to our knees in prayer for wisdom and peace and victory, we ask that you join with us.  (Not in the music or television part, although that's fine too).  Pray that we will Be Still.  Pray that we will trust our Father.  And pray that as we gather in that courtroom tomorrow that He will speak through us, with words that are not our own and with authority that man cannot resist.  

Because when this is all over, God will be exalted.