Blessed is the man who trusts in the Lord, whose confidence is in Him. He will be like a tree planted by the water that sends out its roots by the stream. It does not fear when heat comes; its leaves are always green. It has no worries in a year of drought and never fails to bear fruit.
~Jer. 17:7-8

If I were a tree, what would I look like? Laid back, carefree, just swaying in the wind? Or would I be clinging, struggling, wondering if the storm will ever stop?

As I grow closer to God, my roots grow deeper. I am less worried about trivial matters. I am more productive. But I'm not at this point yet.

The survivor tree which stands at the OKC bombing memorial is a symbol of strength and resilience. The inscription around the tree reads, "The spirit of this city and of this nation will not be defeated; our deeply rooted faith sustains us." That's what I strive to become. I want to be so rooted in Christ that nothing can shake me. I want to give shade to those who need rest from the burning sun. And I want to fully trust that, no matter what happens, my Provider will always come through.

What Happened to Sept??

Aug 31 was a hard day. We found out my grandma had lung cancer. A few days later the doctors told us it had spread to her brain. A few more days later they said the cancer was in her adrenal glands and was pumping it into every other part of her body. Stage 4. There was no cure. The docs told us they could do chemo and radiation, but it was only to keep her comfortable.

Grandma assured us that it was ok. She had lived a good life and was ready to die. We brought her home from the hospital, and she began radiation that week. My mom, aunt, or I stayed by her side daily. After one week grandma wasn't able to walk on her own. Then she couldn't stand on her own. At times, she would talk in gibberish. We took her to the ER to make sure she wasn't having a stroke or something. They told us it was probably due to the cancer in her brain. We brought her home again.

The next day she laid in bed with her hand in mine. She said she was tired of fighting. She wanted us to call Hospice. The next few weeks were painful. She tried to tell us everything she could remember before she forgot it. She called the ministers and told them exactly how she wanted her funeral. She wanted to see my brother's wedding pics, so I brought over the laptop. We gathered around her bed and smiled and laughed at the pictures.

The next day after school I went over to her house. She said, "I love you, baby" when I came in the door. Those were her last words to me. On the evening of October 7, after every kid, grandkid, and great-grandkid had been by to see her, she died. In her sleep. Just the way she wanted.

I have no doubt that my grandma is in Heaven (probably talking an angel's ear off at this very moment). And I know that one day I will see her again.