I was standing there in my kitchen, fixing supper, and feeling defeated. Troubled about the world my kids are growing up in. Watching it go to... well to heck, essentially, in a hand basket. So there I was, talking to my Jesus about it all. He's a good listener, after all. And as I let my troubles and fears roll off my heart right there, I realized I was using words I don't normally use, to describe things and situations that were causing my heart to fear.
Words considered expletives. Cuss words.
Words that would have to be bleeped off of a PG-13 TV show.
Words that described how I felt.
Yep. Me. Taking a potty mouth to the Heavenly Man upstairs.
Him and me having a virtual coffee date of the heart while I chopped up carrots. Except there was no coffee. And except there was language you don't normally hear at a Starbucks. I was all out of eloquence. And I realized right then and there that my Jesus is real enough to me that I can be real with Him. And with everything that's wrong with the world my kids live in, they will always have that Man. And that's really all that one needs.
So, I wandered over to your blog after you commented on mine. Haven't been here for a while. I tread this post and have to say I totally know the feelings of helplessness that can be there when you get hit in the face again and again, realizing where the world is headed--to hell in a hand basket as you put it. Then I come to the same conclusion you did. God will be there for my kids just as He is for me. Psalm 100:5 hit me over the head one day--and I've had more peace since. God is good...His mercy...His truth, to ALL generations.
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