You have searched me, Lord, and you know me. —Psalm 139:1 (NIV)
The moment I opened my eyes I was in a frenzy. I woke up late, had to pack overnight bags for my sons, feed them, dress them, and wait for my ex-husband to pick them up. When they finally left, I wanted to collapse back into bed, but missing church was not an option. Sundays are part of my workweek, and I had to do nursery. I ran out the door, looking as tired and panicked as I felt.
After my subway rides, I jogged the rest of the way to church, wanting to cry, hating myself for always forgetting things, pitying my life as a single mother. Every negative thought of my disappointments and failures wrapped around me till I could barely breathe.
I arrived in the middle of praise and worship. Babies and toddlers go downstairs after the music, but so far I didn’t see one child under four years old. I sat down, caught my breath, and then quietly sang praises to God. I kept looking at the back door, waiting for kids who never came.
Before he preached, the pastor started talking about my after-school program and all the “great work Karen is doing there.” Then he put on a video I had made about the kids, one that always makes me smile and cry as I watch their little faces and listen to the inspiring music. The tears came, but they were about more than just the video. God was reminding me of what I was doing right.
Digging Deeper: Ps 111:5; Mt 6:33; Phil 4:19
