Under strong light, we stared at the laptop, figuring out tuition for various colleges, routes and times to visit. I placed the facts on the table, careful to not to dash hopes, but these are things we had to consider. The house, quiet after the rambunctious children have relunctantly fallen asleep, breathed apprehension. Halloweeners are on the loose, destroying a neighbor's pumpkin the night before.
With my statement of facts, I wonder will my daughter miss home? She is fitting in with her cousins, really adoring the young ones and they her. She seemed fine about living so far from home, until I mentioned the favorite cat, then gloom fleeted over her face.
I laid in bed, praying and praying for wisdom. The next morning, my head feels the strain of wanting my daugter's dreams fulfilled and how I can do that. With God nothing is impossible, I so want to trust, yet, this is modern America. I pray more.
After my shower and her phone calls, the schedule is opening up. There is no marine layer here on the coast, the sun is shining, my head feels sane. I used this chance to again remind her, prayer works. Why is trusting in practice hard?
And the pumpkins and decorations are still intact this morning under the perfectly blue sky.