I've finally gotten to the book of Daniel in my Bible in a year plan. One that I'm quite far behind on, by the way. Months behind schedule. I'm always struck by Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego's statement to the king when he's threatening them with the fiery furnace.“King Nebuchadnezzar, we do not need to defend ourselves before you in this matter. If we are thrown into the blazing furnace, the God we serve is able to deliver us from it, and he will deliver us from Your Majesty’s hand. But even if he does not, we want you to know, Your Majesty, that we will not serve your gods or worship the image of gold you have set up.” (Daniel 3:16-18) I thought about that and wondered how many times I've prayed that way. I don't think it's been often. I'm pretty sure any prayers that even resemble their statement could be easily counted on one hand.
Then there was a scheduled well child check at the doctor's office and a scheduling of the test that little kid nightmares are made of. Adult nightmares, too when you've been in that radiology room before and had a horrible experience. Well, today was the test. I felt prayed up and prayed over. And truly loved on, even when I didn't know that I needed or wanted it. And I really did believe that the medical issue that necessitated the test would have resolved itself in my delicate little five-year-old girl's abdomen. Still, I kept thinking, "But even if you don't, you're still God." The problem is still there, and God is still over all. He's over misshaped ureters and little girl fears. He's over Mama and Daddy anxieties and radiologists and wonderful nurses who remember Webkinz's names.
And even in undesirable results, he still showed off. Forgive the red-eye.