Here I am, writing my first blog entry. One person told me they would read my blog if I started one (that's you Brooke!). I intend to mostly write about what God is teaching me on a daily basis. But I shouldn't promise to write every day.(And forgive my crummy wrting)

This morning as I was waking up these thoughts were swirling around in my head. Our church teaches that God is always in control, no matter what. Nothing just happens to us randomly. The Bible states that God has had every day of our life planned out from before time began. I'll have to find that reference, I think it's Job or Psalms. Job is that famous book where the poor guy loses everything under the sun. His livestock, his servants, his kids, and even his health. But remember that Satan had to ask permission to even touch Job? Which immediately reminds me of the apostle Peter.  Jesus told him that "Satan has asked permission to sift you like wheat" (YIKES!!) Is this a theme? Satan has to ask to touch us.

 So when bad stuff happens is it always because God chose it? After all He planned out every day of our life. Or maybe it's just that he chose to allow it? (I mean that his hand wasn't really in it, but he sat back and did not intervene) Well I have to say I prefer the first one. Not because I think that God likes to give someone cancer or crash their car. But because if those things happened randomly, and he was just sitting back not intervening, How scary would that be? How could we really trust Him to be there for us?

I am just like everyone else and some junky things have happened in my life. When I look back I have to say I can truly see God's hand. There is one really yucky thing in particular that, if it hadn't happened, I may not be sitting here right now having this life. It was so terrible, that it made me run to God. And I mean RUN! It was painful and evil and heartbreaking. But God used it to turn me from my rebellion from Him. So, did He just let it happen because he knew he could use it down the road? Maybe. Or maybe He caused it to happen because He loved me so much that he took drastic measures to return me to his flock. Have you heard that shepards used to break the leg of a lamb who kept running away? Then he would carry that lamb on his shoulders until it became dependant on him again (and while it healed).

 How much it must hurt a loving God to have to break the leg of His child. But what a powerful love that is! I don't think I could do it to my own child. But my love isn't holy. My love doesn't see the whole picture. And my love usually forgets that this life is just a breath, a vapor. This is not our home.