i don't deserve this

I was thinking about the expression "can't see the forest for the trees" the other day... and I contemplated how I am viewing things these days. And I *think* that I'm seeing the trees more and more... and I *think* that maybe in this instance, it might not be a bad thing.

The definition of "can't see the forest for the trees" is someone who is too involved in the details of a problem to look at the situation as a whole.

When I look at our "situation" as a whole I sink in to the depths of fear. Deep, deep, drowning, in fear.

When I look at the details in our day to day?

I am amazed at God's goodness and in His faithfulness.

The goodness and faithfulness that I don't deserve.

The sacrifice that I don't deserve.

When I attempt to think about what Jesus went through. For me. I... can't. It's beyond my comprehension. Because I can't imagine His pain. His... LOVE.

His body on the cross. Broken. Bleeding. God's wrath.

The weight of everything I've ever done and ever will do, on Him. MY sin. Not His.

He died for me. He suffered, horribly, for me.

I don't deserve it.

I don't deserve to go to Him with request after request, plea after plea. WANTING Him to give to me, over and over.

But I do.

And He does.

The vehicle my husband drives, drove it's last mile. It's beyond repair.

When we were told this news, I didn't worry. Not one bit. Not for one second. (this is a new thing for me)

Because I knew God was going to provide.

I knew.

Because even in our "situation" I am looking at the trees of God's abundant provision.

I don't see two children in programs - I see God's provision IN the programs, God's goodness in their healing (well, one so far, but, I know the other one is coming), God's provision in sustaining us financially, month after month, year after year.

I see a strong marriage.

I see a home, food, a job, medical insurance.

I see family and friends.

When we found out the truck wasn't going to be fixed, that we were going to have to find another vehicle... I started thinking about what my next blog post was going to say... I knew I'd be writing something about how God provided, once again.

Today we found a used vehicle that we met our ridiculously low priced criteria.

And I KNEW that we would.

Because my trees? Are redwoods. That's what's in my forest right now.

Redwoods.

I took the following, from a National Parks website:

"Superlatives abound when a person tries to describe old-growth redwoods: immense, ancient, stately, mysterious, powerful. Yet the trees were not designed for easy assimilation into language. Their existence speaks for themselves, not in words, but rather in a soft-toned voice of patience and endurance.

From a seed no bigger than one from a tomato, California's coast redwood (Sequoia sempervirens) may grow to a height of 367 feet (112 m) and have a width of 22 feet (7 m) at its base. Imagine a 35-story skyscraper in your city and you have an inkling of the trees' ability to arouse humility.

Some visitors envision dinosaurs rumbling through these forests in bygone eras. It turns out that this is a perfectly natural thought. Fossil records have shown that relatives of today's coast redwoods thrived in the Jurassic Era 160 million years ago. And while the fantastic creatures of that age have long since disappeared, the redwoods continue to thrive, in the right environment".

My trees are Redwoods.

XO
K.