Trusting

God painted the sunrise and lined the clouds gold just for me the other morning.  Sounds a bit presumptuous, I know, but He did.

I was driving to an early appointment, leaving #2 sick to his stomach, in the fetal position on the bathroom floor at home.  And I was fighting to put puzzle pieces together and begging God for insight.  See, my dear one has been having unusual tummy problems.  First I just assumed he picked up a stomach bug.  Now, eight months later, I'm not convinced.  Whatever the nasty thing is, it leaves the poor kid sobbing over the toilet wishing he could go to Heaven.  Yep, he's asked.  Several times.  Leaves this mama feeling beyond helpless.

As I drove through farmland in the early hours, symptoms and scenarios ran through my head.  I struggled to find commonalities while I kind-of prayed for wisdom, but more fought the what-ifs and formed battle plans of how to fight this unnamed enemy.  Then I glanced to my right.  It was a typical overcast morning.  Light was dawning, but the source was hidden.  Until God took his finger and touched the clouds and they parted, just a little, in front of the sun.  And he dipped his paintbrush into the most ethereal gold paint you've ever seen and lined the clouds with thin, brilliant strokes.  The result was breathtaking.  

How precious of God to add some beauty to my messy morning.   No sooner had I whispered thank you when He spoke to my heart, "If I can do this, don't you think I can take care of your son?"

We still have no answers, no concreate reasons an unhappy stomach randomly interrupts his sleep in the wee hours.  But time after time when the what-ifs start to whisper their lies, when exhaustion and impatience threaten to overtake gentleness and compassion, I picture that sunrise, recall God's voice, and remember that the One who rims the clouds golden holds my son in the palm of His hand.  And peace returns.