7
Handing Over the Hand-Wringing
The best evidence of our having the truth is our walking in the truth.
Matthew Henry
When I am in the practice of giving thanks and believing God means what he says, my soul quiets and my spirit thrives. My hands go about their work and don’t tremble. But then the winds of change blow just a little harder and meaner, and I forget all I’ve learned, seen, and held dear in faith. At those times the enemy sees a keyhole-sized opening in the door of my heart and takes the opportunity to bust it down altogether. Before long, I’m buying into what he says more than what God says.
Sometimes I flat-out get tired of helping the enemy bring me down. He wants to make a mess of my business, and instead of purposely fighting him back, I unknowingly play along.
I play along by believing the lies he whispers in my ear about my identity. You’re hopeless! You’re stupid! You’re such a loser!
I play along by following him away from Christlike behavior. Go ahead and tell her off! She deserves it!
I play along when change comes and I believe him when he says this time, it’ll get the best of me. You don’t have what it takes to survive this. Just give up already!
Whether I crack under repeated pressure or crack because I’m in a mood and it doesn’t take much, my human weakness will leak through the fractures eventually. I may be able to get by on my own strength for a bit, but I have my breaking point just like everyone else. My breathing gets shallow, I start wringing my hands, and I want to throw things, cry, or cuss.
The point of our breaking points? They are the perfect place for Christ to come and be what we cannot. They are the perfect place for us to remember we have a Savior who identifies with our weaknesses. He is not unfamiliar with what makes us wring our hands with worry. “For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin” (Heb. 4:15 ESV).
Jesus knows weakness, he’s felt weakness, and he isn’t turned off by our weakness. He looked every weakness in the eye when he hung on the cross. And three days later when his eyes opened wide and his lungs inhaled oxygen, he conquered each and every one. In his own new life, he offers us new life by way of unlimited access to his throne of grace. When change comes, why wring our hands when we can cling to grace? He is there for us in each and every time of need (see Heb. 4:16).
I want to open the windows in my room today and lean out for a look while taking a deep breath of Jesus’s grace. I don’t want to let the enemy slam the frame right down on my fingers.
I don’t want to let the enemy slam the hope right out of my heart.
Joseph’s life was chock-full of change’s deepest turmoil, and one would think his hands would have been red and raw from intense hand-wringing. When we last visited him, he had just changed from being a man in prison to being a man of position: prince, chief advisor to Pharaoh, point of contact for all matters related to the country of Egypt. He went from the underground dungeon to the castle turret, another change of massive proportions.
But Joseph had been a man of position before and saw all that taken away from him. Sure, this change was favorable, but did he worry it could just as easily turn unfavorable again? Did he fret that somehow he’d find himself back in the basement? Or worse? I don’t know, but I do know Joseph held on to God’s promises amidst the highs and lows alike. Regardless of his job, position, and living circumstances, his actions were a fragrant offering. When he was sitting in a dungeon, he was looking to God. When he was hanging with Pharaoh, he was looking to God. Prisoner or prince, he kept his heart centered on God’s will and let his life be a testimony to giving God glory. This was proven when his story continued a bit later in Genesis, specifically when his brothers, suffering from famine, came calling for food.
Because God told Joseph through Pharaoh’s dreams to expect seven years of plenty before famine, Joseph wisely planned and saved food during the good years to feed the country during the hard years. During those seven years of bounty, Joseph stored up so much grain, it was “like the sand of the sea” (Gen. 41:49). The amount was so great, he couldn’t keep records because it was beyond measure. It was a good thing too, because the famine affected not only Egypt but other countries too.
When the seven years of famine hit Canaan and families were starving, Jacob asked his sons to make the pilgrimage to Pharaoh’s court in Egypt to get some grain. His sons obeyed, and who was the first person Judah, Simeon, Reuben, Levi, and the other brothers met? Joseph, the governor of the land who was also in charge of selling grain to its people. As Joseph undoubtedly looked very different in his Egyptian cultural setting, the brothers didn’t recognize him. But Joseph recognized his brothers, and he was going to make them work for their grain—as is evident in how he treats them.
Upon meeting his brothers, he accuses them of being spies. He tells them they must go back and bring their brother Benjamin, who stayed behind with their dad, Jacob. While he provided his brothers grain for their families, he had one of them, Simeon, thrown in prison to ensure the brothers would return.
When the brothers made trip number two to Egypt with Benjamin, Joseph was visibly moved at the sight of his full brother (Joseph was half brother to all but Benjamin). Yet Joseph still kept his identity secret.
At Joseph’s command, his steward played a trick on the brothers. He not only filled the brothers’ bags with as much food as they could carry for their trip back home but also planted a “stolen” cup of Joseph’s in Benjamin’s sack.
After the planted cup was discovered in Benjamin’s sack and the brothers returned to Egypt, Joseph gave his brothers a boatload of stress because he threatened to keep Benjamin as a slave as punishment for the “stolen” cup. The brothers knew if they failed to return home with Benjamin, their father would likely die of a broken heart.
Finally, Joseph couldn’t keep up the game any longer. Years of emotional turmoil burst through as he cried out to them, “I am Joseph!” (Gen. 45:3). What he said after that blows me away:
Then Joseph said to his brothers, “Come close to me.” When they had done so, he said, “I am your brother Joseph, the one you sold into Egypt! And now, do not be distressed and do not be angry with yourselves for selling me here, because it was to save lives that God sent me ahead of you.” (Gen. 45:4–5)
Yes, Joseph messed with his brothers and probably shaved a few years off their lives in the process. But when push came to shove, he showed grace and forgiveness in even greater proportions and ultimately did not let revenge have the last seat at the table.
Joseph let a God-given perspective have the seat instead. His ability to imperfectly but steadily make God-pleasing choices as well as dish out grace and forgiveness meant he had much practice at sharing an eternal outlook on anything and everything that came his way.
I wonder, if this had been me, would I have been so big picture–minded? So forgiving? I might have gone to greater lengths to take my frustrations out on the ones whose actions threw change at me in such drastic, negative ways. After all, I don’t want their actions to get a pass. I don’t want them to get a pass.
Head in the Clouds
Make no mistake: what happened to Joseph as a result of his brothers’ actions was wrong. His family had several unhealthy habits—disrespect, favoritism, and pride, to name a few. But as entitled as Joseph grew up believing he was and considering all the poor choices he made out of that sense of entitlement, it was a terrible sin to throw him into the bottom of a pit.
To be sure, you can probably think about a pit you’ve been thrown into that changed your life. Divorce papers arrive to your reluctant palm? You’re thrown into a pit. The one who was supposed to protect you uses you? Thrown into a pit. Your child rebels and turns his back on his mama’s open arms? Thrown into a pit. Even though what happened to you was wrong as the day is long, perhaps you, like Joseph, can remember a distant poor choice (or several) that didn’t do you any favors and contributed to your own disastrous results.
If that’s you today—if you’re wringing your own hands because you think you should have not said those words or not done that thing years ago—can I gently take one of your hands and walk you up the nearest hill for a little view?
Whatever the catalyst for the despair brought by change, look out in front of you and believe that the God who changed Joseph’s pit of despair to a mountaintop of deliverance has in mind to do the exact same thing with your own. As the Lord convicts, go ahead and apologize to yourself, to God—and to others if necessary. We are all going to sin, but we don’t need to sit in condemnation from that sin. God does not condemn, so you shouldn’t either.
So what to do instead? Keep the same view as Joseph. He didn’t waste time thinking about all the different choices he should have made. He didn’t waste time blaming his brothers. Instead, he spent his time giving credit to God. Years after being thrown into the cistern, he could see that what God planned was to throw him into the chief role as the saving grace of Egypt—and as the saving grace of the same family who ignored his cries. Joseph’s family may have been absent in his time of need, but Joseph could see that God was always present.
Such is the nature of God: what the enemy wanted to use for harm, God wanted to use to arm Joseph, his family, and a nation.
The younger Joseph might have lorded his position over them or punished them. After all, he had the power to do so, and his early dreams were prophetic as his brothers did indeed bow down to him. But Joseph didn’t. Full of forgiveness and empty of I-told-you-sos, Joseph reassured his brothers as he generously offered them an abundance of food and land. Even though he still remembered his brothers’ careless actions, he cared for them in return.
It’s amazing what a little time and perspective do to one’s own heart. Indeed, Joseph’s drastic, tumultuous change brought about a great deliverance of more than one kind. God used it as a saving grace for nations of many people, and in the process, Joseph couldn’t help but experience a changed heart as well. And out of that changed heart, Joseph uttered one of the most gracious statements recorded in all of Scripture: “You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives” (Gen. 50:20).
Would Joseph have picked slavery and prison time as stops on the way to redeeming his dysfunctional family? Probably not. But all along, he believed God had his best in mind and was able to see that empty cistern for what it was: a cocoon of rescue.
Your Sword in Hand
I can’t wring my hands if I’m holding something in them.
When Ephesians gives us the rundown of the armor of God, the only non-defensive tool mentioned is “the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God” (Eph. 6:17). Do we have any idea that the tool at our disposal has the power to fight off the enemy’s tricks—to make him wish he’d never messed with us in the first place? God’s Word is as effective at obliterating lies and darkness as a sword is at obliterating flesh and blood. It’s a weapon that can cut our enemy off at the knees. It’s a weapon that can loosen the clods of all the muddy, mucky feelings change brings.
But in order to have the advantages of the sword of the Spirit, I actually have to use the sword of the Spirit. What good is it just hanging out in its sheath at my side? What good is my Bible just hanging out on my bookshelf?
I am at a place in my life where I can 99 percent guarantee I will wake up before my kids to have a little Bible time. Since two of the three are teenagers, they usually don’t get up until the last minute they have to. So, when the house is quiet, I get up and have a little quiet time. The goal is to read Scripture and my devotions, to give time to the Good Book before Facebook.
And here’s where you mamas of littles slap your knee and laugh out loud. I know what you are saying: “Well, Kristen, goody goody gumdrops for you. That is one luxury I just don’t have.” Oh man, do I ever get that. I remember those days when my only quiet time was the first thirty seconds of a shower, if that. I remember pulling some major scheduling acrobatics just to get a little Jesus time in during Blue’s Clues. Even then, distractions pestered me from all directions. Whether one of the kids wanted milk or the phone wanted answering, All the Important Things vied for my time.
But here’s the thing: even this mama with big kids still faces distractions. Notice I said my goal in getting up early is to read Scripture. That doesn’t mean it always happens. I sit down with good intentions to really focus on the Word, and sometimes that goes well. But other times, I oversleep. I try to do it while the kids are at school, and I forget about that PTO meeting and doctor’s appointment. I am distracted because dinner needs making, blog posts need writing, and groceries need purchasing. All my responsibilities are written in capital letters and still vie for my time.
The moment my heinie hits our sofa, my mind is hit with distractions. It travels toward any number of things I must complete, such as folding laundry, finishing dishes, or running errands. Pretty soon ten, fifteen, twenty minutes have ticked by, and I can’t remember focusing on even one Bible verse. It may not always be the kids distracting me (although sometimes it is), but it’s always something. And from what I understand from my empty nester friends, the interruptions never leave even though your kids do. Distractions are always there, eager posers of emergencies and never on vacation.
I can’t deny, however, that the days I am breathing in the Word, I am breathing out a better day. I can’t deny that my internal compass resets and I see myself in relation to God’s plan. I can’t deny that I more accurately see myself positioned within my change, not overly important or underly valued, but as I am in reality.
Sure, it’s easier to fall into Scripture in the middle of hand-wringing seasons. But if I am more intentional about reading Scripture during the seasons of plenty, I discover, like Joseph, that I am able to feast on it during the hard seasons. I don’t need to wait till the famine to get to work.
Of course, no day is a bad day to have my sword ready!
I find it comforting that no matter the season we find ourselves in, our time of soaking up Scripture doesn’t have to resemble any particular model to be good for us. Soaking it up on any level is always best for us. A sit-down quiet time? Awesome. Reading Scripture on your Bible app while in line at Target? Fabulous. It will all seep inside and start to make a difference.
I see this reflected when I remember my sweet, chubby James as a baby. He gave me a beautiful picture of what it looked like to feast on Scripture every time he sat down to eat. Like many babies and toddlers, my James was a boy who liked to experience food rather than simply eat it. I would place him in his high chair, snap on the tray, and watch as his round arms and legs bounced up and down with anticipation and excitement. He knew what was to come. Spaghetti! Chicken and rice! Applesauce! Blueberries! It didn’t matter—he was getting to ingest and explore some really yummy, amazing stuff!
Within minutes of placing his food in front of him, it looked like James’s goal was to smear the food over every square inch of his tray and body. From time to time I saw him take a fistful of food into his mouth, but more often I saw him take a fistful of food and smear it over all points within reach. He had no awareness that the eating part took priority over the playing part. By the time he would be finished, I’d look at the noodle- or rice-painted scene and say to him, “Did you actually get any of this inside you?”
Well, obviously he did. As a baby and toddler, James did not hold the nickname “Hoss” for nothing. He was plump and healthy—the perfectly quintessential fat baby. Lots of food may have sloshed over the edges of his mouth and high chair tray, but enough of it made it inside him too.
I think Scripture reading for us is much the same.
Distractions elbow their way in on my time. Some of my Bible time gets sloshed over the edges and down the sides of my brain. But a lot of it sticks too, and I can’t deny the evidence of God’s truth working in my life. I feel Christ alive and active in ways I couldn’t have imagined before. I still have miles and miles of room left for growth and improvements, but there are some things that consistent (even if distracted) time in the Word has turned from Very Big Things to a blip on my radar. I am better at giving credit to God for the highs as well as giving God credit for being able to handle the lows.
However, let’s get real here: the Word isn’t going to make you better equipped to handle change every single time you sit down to soak it up. That’s okay. You don’t need to come out with a brainchild or blog post every time you simmer in the Word. As Pastor Bryan from my church states, “God doesn’t rebuke, he invites.” And he invites us to soak in his Word with the understanding that it will over time contribute to your overall well-being.
There’s one more reason the Lord invites you to hang out with him: because he honestly, truly likes hanging out with you. I love the words Robert Boyd Munger writes from the perspective of Jesus:
The trouble is that you have been thinking of the quiet time, of Bible study and prayer, as a means for your own spiritual growth. This is true, but you have forgotten that this time means something to me also. Remember, I love you. At a great cost I have redeemed you. I value your fellowship. . . . Whether or not you want to be with me, remember I want to be with you. I really love you.1
Consistently dining on Scripture can’t help but create a healthier soul. I want to do so regularly so that I regularly see the benefits, feel its wisdom coursing through my veins and its life racing through my blood. I want the voice of heaven to reach my heart. I want God’s presence to carry me through every toilet-scrubbing, meal-sharing, carpool-driving part of my day. I want to feel him moving in my life during change’s lush and lean seasons alike. Because then, as my son James proved, even distractions can’t stop my scriptural frame from lookin’ like a hoss.
Kicking Sass
If I absolutely, positively want to fully hand over the hand-wringing, what else can I do?
I can kick some sass into my prayer life by incorporating Scripture into my prayers too. I kick some prayers into action by praying the Lord’s power against my fears.
A lot is said about the value of quiet prayers, words whispered in the corners of our souls in good times and bad. And to be sure, I am one to whisper prayers and be mindful of stillness with God. But even in the quietest of prayers, we can still get a little bold, brave, and sassy by wielding some God-given power before his mighty throne.
When we combine our prayers with Scripture, we hold a concoction that not only fights off the hand-wringing but blows the enemy right off the map. It’s just one more way to keep our sword out of its sheath and use it like a pro, to decimate our fears by praying specific Scriptures out loud.
At the end of this book is a handy list of Scriptures that are rock solid truth for times of wishy-washy change. I take one such as the following and write it in my prayer journal, underline it in my Bible, or tap it into my iPhone:
I pray that the eyes of your heart may be enlightened in order that you may know the hope to which he has called you, the riches of his glorious inheritance in his holy people, and his incomparably great power for us who believe. (Eph. 1:18–19)
And I pray this to God in heaven:
Dear Father,
You know how the fears loom regarding this difficult change. But your Word encourages us to open the eyes of our hearts to behold the hope that is you. This is my desire, Lord. I desire for the eyes of my heart to be spotlights drawn to you so strongly that regardless of my circumstances, I see only you and your all-out goodness. You have prepared a glorious inheritance for me, Lord, and your power is for all those who believe in you. Help me believe that you are for me, not against me in this change. Search the corners of my heart for any unbelief and knock it out. I love you, Lord. In Jesus’s name, amen.
When we incorporate God’s Word into our words, we mix up a potion of superpowered proportions that is capable of killing any and all fears once and for all. It’s exactly the kind of power Annie Dillard describes this way:
Does anyone have the foggiest idea what sort of power we so blithely invoke? Or, as I suspect, does no one believe a word of it? The churches are children playing on the floor with their chemistry sets, mixing up a batch of TNT to kill a Sunday morning. It is madness to wear ladies’ straw hats and velvet hats to church; we should all be wearing crash helmets. Ushers should issue life preservers and signal flares; they should lash us to our pews.2
We need to suit up, friends. We need to get a little serious and a lot intentional about making our posture match our power. So the next time change’s fears try to invade your space, they will have no chance to become comfortable because you are going to put your Scripture time and prayers into action. You are going to infuse your prayer life with power from heaven itself so you are prepared to walk through your change with obedience.
Girls, let’s be prepared to kick some sass.
Allison’s Story: When Your Heart Wrings as Much as Your Hands
More than anything, Allison wanted to be a caring and compassionate mom. Having grown up in a home where family members treated her unfavorably, all she knew was her own desperate clinging to the adults in her home and the adults’ utter dismissal of her in return. So when she and her husband, Scott, discovered they would soon be parents themselves, she didn’t want to perpetuate the idea that their children were unwelcomed or outsiders in their own home. She desperately wanted to parent a different way so her children could live a different story.
As a young mother, Allison heard a pastor say that when it comes to parenting children, “you don’t mold them but unfold them.” This truth deeply resonated with Allison, and it served as a reliable guide for lovingly nurturing her children while still graciously allowing them to find their wings.
But then God threw her a curveball with her firstborn—a curveball that would challenge that premise and cause her to want to mold rather than unfold her child all the days of his life. Her son Nathan—her “gift,” as the name means in the Hebrew language—was born with Asperger’s syndrome, a form of autism. Slowly, Allison’s pretty thoughts of the unfolded inner child turned into anxious dread under the weight of a hundred terrifying questions. How do you unfold a child who is born “without the social gene”? How do you unfold something that’s missing? Will he ever have a friend, a girlfriend, or a wife?
When Nathan’s diagnosis was determined at three years of age, Allison fell into a depression. She bought the enemy’s false bill of goods that said this diagnosis meant her son would never amount to much. The enemy whispered lie after lie to Allison, and each one screamed at her mama heart: Nathan would remain friendless, never get married, and eventually become a nuisance to society. In her devastating depression, Allison had visions of the earth opening and swallowing her as she contemplated every dream envisioned for her son vanishing.
With her heart feeling every bit as squeezed as her wringing hands, Allison turned to Scripture and learned the only thing able to burn the false bill of goods was the fire of truth. Early on, the Lord called her to be faithful to him and to trust his Word, so she chose her Bible as her main parenting handbook. As new seasons came and she found herself in need of fresh inspiration in parenting a special needs child, the Bible became her go-to book for help. She dove in and discovered a feast of hope as well as rock solid truth that helped her keep her wavering emotions in check. Even though Nathan developed more slowly than his peers, God’s faithful follow-through in his plans for her son was made available right on schedule.
Time moved ahead and Allison parented well, largely able to hand over the fears about her son to Jesus. However, when Nathan turned eighteen and left her daily presence for college, some of the worries pursued her with renewed vigor. While experiencing a child’s transition to adulthood is a difficult period for the most seasoned of mamas, Allison had to fully, completely give up the familiar lies that said her son would have troubles without Allison there to care for and guide him. She had to embrace the scary unfamiliarity, healthy though it may be, by believing God’s promises of provision, favor, and blessing for her son were just as present now as when he was younger.
During that emotional time, Allison felt she was tossing her son into the deep waters of the real world. While she and her husband had done their best to teach him to swim, she knew part of the unfolding was believing God would continue to show Nathan how to fully develop into all God desired for him. She knew repeating patterns of clinging to her son too tightly could risk losing him. So with her husband’s patient help and wise counsel, she began to let go and let God finish his work in her boy.
By no means was this easy. Because of her difficult relationship with her extended family, Allison feared that purposely embracing this change—letting go and trusting God to fully unfold her son—would bring distance in her relationship with Nathan. But through Allison’s consistent time spent in Scripture, God graciously reaffirmed his promises for Nathan in her heart. She discovered a deeper level of the Lord’s faithfulness as she fully realized she could trust God to be an always attentive, always present Father to her son.
The evidence of God’s presence in this change lingers in everyday, beautiful ways. Allison and Nathan have a close, thriving relationship. She gets to witness her son’s interactions with good friends. He goes on dates and maintains a job while earning straight As in college. But most importantly, the evidence of God’s presence in this change made room for Allison to see something emerge in Nathan’s heart she had missed before: an utter and desperate need for God that is so tangible, she sees it changing the landscape of his life while capturing his soul.
Fully releasing her tight grip on this change released her son into the care of Christ. Even as she felt the bittersweet realities of sending her child off to college, she knew her ability to keep an eternal perspective—and keep the sword of the Spirit out of its sheath—helped her son to thrive and her mama heart to thrive too. As with any close loved ones, things aren’t always easy or without challenges within Allison’s family. But day by day, God continues to unfold his faithfulness to her son . . . and to her.
Letting go of the fears and lies that cause our hearts to hurt and hands to wring is not a once and for all activity. Rather, it’s a daily choice to make, a daily remembering that yes, God will be faithful here too. We make a daily decision to not let those fears determine our actions.
I love this portion of Romans that quotes from Isaiah:
Careful! I’ve put a huge stone on the road to Mount Zion,
a stone you can’t get around.
But the stone is me! If you’re looking for me,
you’ll find me on the way, not in the way.
9:33 The Message
On one hand, Nathan’s Asperger’s is a stone in the road, a stone that complicates his life’s journey. But on the other, Nathan’s Asperger’s is the means God uses to reveal his glory. And it’s the means by which God provides unabashed love for a precious son and deep healing for a hurting mama.
The more we revel in Scripture, the more we are able to see all the stones change brings to our paths as looking glasses of God’s love and favor. And the more we are able to see ourselves at peace in those looking glasses.
And maybe beginning to thrive too.
As you now know well, my daughter and I are big gymnastics fans. In 2012 we watched with bated breath as the USA gymnastics team competed in the Olympic team finals. We did our best to ignore the spoilers all day, and so when the competition aired that night, we were chock-full of nervous energy, barely able to stay in our seats. After the vault, bars, and beam rotations, Russia had the lead in the overall standings. It all came down to the floor routine. Russia’s team suffered several mishaps on floor while the girls on Team USA performed each routine flawlessly. The stellar performances were enough to put USA on top of the podium and into the history books. Upon hearing the standings, Faith and I jumped up and down alongside the rest of America.
Now, a few years later, when Faith and I find ourselves in a mood to watch something, we often choose to snuggle up with YouTube videos. Here and there, we rewatch the USA team members perform those floor routines. But every time we watch? It’s a whole ’nother experience from 2012. Gone are our wringing hands and anxious hearts. In their place sit warm comfort and satisfaction that everything does indeed end well for America’s team.
As a Jesus-believing sister, you have the exact same assurance. No matter the change that sits in your lap, you know things will ultimately end well. The games have been won. The outcome of your own kind of change games is as confidently won as the gold medal was for the gymnasts. No need to wring hands and sweat outcomes. Jesus won it all for us the moment he walked out of the tomb after dying on the cross. Jesus not only conquered death so you may have everlasting life in heaven, but he conquered death so you may live life to the full right here, right now.
Bravery is not the absence of fear but following God through the fear as you believe God’s promises. It’s holding on to the facts of our faith more tightly than to the fears for the future, like Allison did. It’s believing change is not in the way of God’s plans for us but on the way.
Let’s hold tightly to the truth of Scripture and walk boldly through our fears as we give our wringing hands a break. Hold on to your sword, but also hold on to your confidence.
Because of Jesus, you have already won.
Prayer
Dear Father, you know my struggle with fears that make my hands wring and my nights long. Whether it’s new ones falling in my lap or old ones revisiting the corners of my mind, give me a consuming passion and deep desire to fight the fears with the facts of your truth. May your unwavering peace chase them far, far away. When I feel fearful, may I rest hopeful. May I remember that anytime, in any place, I can approach your throne of grace. You listen attentively and care affectionately as you equip me to handle change appropriately. May I see my change not through the lens of fear but through the lens of your care. Thank you for sending Jesus as a guarantee that no matter the battles I face, I’ve already won. I love you! In his unchanging name, amen.