My pen filled the page with black words of anxiety. Sometimes it's good to write it all out. I let the heaviness leave my soul as my heart pours out, line after line. I feel rather like a child, pestering her Father with questions.
"Daddy, what about the money?"
"Daddy, how is this supposed to work?"
"Daddy, when will I be ready?"
"Daddy, where are we heading?"
"Daddy, Daddy, Daddy..."
In reply He just says, "Trust Me. I will take care of you."
He asks me to trust Him, and that is all the explanation that comes. I often wonder why I have been led to this place. I am compelled to give more than ever when I have less than ever. My only income is from my photography, and it's just not a whole lot right now. I'd be more than willing to find another job, but He says stay. It doesn't make much sense. Yet, He promises to provide so that His work may be done. He loves the cheerful giver. Though my future is uncertain, I have a hope that endures. I know I am exactly where I am supposed to be. I know I am being prepared for something.
So I can do nothing else but open my hands and let go of all I have. Trust - that's all I'm holding onto.