GOOEYS

 Most likely when you hear the word "gooey", your mind goes to sticky marshmallows, caramel brownies straight from the oven, or some other delicious delectable something that goes in your mouth and tastes wonderful.  

When my family hears "gooey", we immediately think "mushroom".  You see, The Grandbaby has always called mushrooms "gooeys".

This morning I looked out in my yard and thought there were mounds of leaves piled together.  Sort of odd, though, as I considered usually that happens when one rakes and we don't rake.  On closer look, I realized these were mounds of mushrooms....mushrooms growing into beautiful dome like shapes.  Hundreds of them and not too very far apart from each other.

I did find myself wondering if Smurfs might be living there.  :)  Being un-scientific, I could find no reason for this strange growth.  The Husband said later they were growing where a very large tree had been cut down.  Still that didn't tell me much.  I will say that I have quite enjoyed the grossly interesting aspect of the mounds.  Here's a few up close and personal photos as I know my three blog readers will enjoy!

There are three more mounds beginning to accumulate near these three.  Just amazing to me.

What do you think?  Gooey, aren't they?

ASKING

Sorry--long post ahead--

For four years now I've had a babysitting gig with The Grandbaby on Mondays while The Girl went to her office.  A couple of weeks ago that changed and my gig began on Tuesdays instead and is only half a day as I pick up the growing girl from her preschool at noon and keep her until supper time.  

The Grandbaby also came home from church with The Poppa and me on Sunday.  We got a bite for lunch then I confidently came home fully expecting her to "rest" with me.  We laid on the bed, books stacked up, got "comfy" (her words), and I read and read and read.  And read.  I was about to fall asleep reading.  The Grandbaby?  Not so much.  She was wiggling and when I told her she needed to lay still, her reply was, "But Neema, my legs get stronger when I wiggle.  Silly Neema."  Well duh, what can I reply to that?  Obviously there was no rest.  

I am experiencing another adhesion intestinal flare.  I saw my doctor Monday and am waiting on my insurance to pre certify a CT scan scheduled for Friday morning.  Possibly if they approve before that I will have before that.  In the meantime my diet is liquid and my weight is losing.  One out of two ain't bad.  The Husband said it well this morning...at least we know that what I have can be fixed for the short term, then be fixed again.  It's been 25.5 months since my last surgical fix but who's counting?

With that said, yesterday turned out to be a lovely afternoon.  On the way home from preschool I was entertained by the story of recess when the girls had used a little "table thang" on the playground and had an ice cream store.  The Grandbaby was the "deliver person" and another girl was the "ice cream cooker".  It's the little things that cause joy, I guess.  I had promised a fall cupcake making time so we did that immediately upon arriving at home after school then ate lunch while the cupcakes cooked.  After lunch came the frosting of the cupcakes.  I taught The Grandbaby how to get out part of the middle of the cupcake and fill it with a surprise of icing.  She LOVED that!  "Oh Neema, I just love to cook, don't you?"  (Well, I used to but now not so much....)  "This icing is yummy!"  (I'm sure it is but it's not liquid.)  "My very favorite thing to cook is duhserts."  (Can't argue with that, her tooth is very sweet.)  The cupcakes were "beautiful".  

Playing play doh has become one of The Grandbaby's favorite things to do lately.  To quote The Son-In-Law, it's her "flavor of the day".  She has varied flavors--uh interests.  We played play doh with some fresh dough I had bought for her the other day to replace all my old that had become hardened.  I do love the smell and touch of fresh play doh--there's a sermon in that for another day.  There were four small cans of colors of the Frozen II theme--purple, two different beautiful blues, and white.  There were also primary colors that included white.  We didn't have any white at all before.    We played and played this for a long time.  Then when The Poppa arrived home, he played and played and played.  

The Girl arrived home and was fairly ready to go home.  There's always hugs upon going so The Poppa got his hug, then did a little fun something with her and she began to cry.  She came to me and held on tightly to my neck.  So being the wise Neema that I am, I questioned the problem thinking The Poppa had done something she either didn't like or offended--she can have drama on occasion even at her young age.  Well finally she tearfully told me that was not it.  It was not The Poppa.  She didn't want to go home.  Now this is rare even though it is fun here, it's rare.  Finally with prodding, we were out the door, her face still tearful.  Before I opened the car door to put her in, I asked her again what was wrong.  She tearfully looked up at me and said, "I want to play Play Doh."  Well, duh, I was certain it was love for me that she wanted to stay but I sucked it up and talked on.  I explained she could when she came back another day.  She looked up so sad and replied, "I don't have any white Play Doh at home." FINALLY!  The real problem.    It gave an opportunity for a lesson on borrowing and getting along.  I asked if she would like to borrow some and take home, then bring back.  We are working on the concept of borrowing and returning.  You would have thought I had given her the moon.  Tear filled eyes, a huge smile, and shaking of the head up and down.  Mercy.  Bingo.  I explained to The Girl the issue and The Grandbaby and I headed back inside to the Play Doh.  I told The Grandbaby that she should always ask when she wanted to borrow something or had a problem that we could help.  I told her all she had to do was ask.  She told me she only needed to borrow two cans. Sweet girl.  As we chose her cans to "borrow", I realized there were two cans of the new white.  I asked if she would like to take one home with her to stay and not borrow.  Well, here we go again with a huge smile and nod.  She borrowed her play doh and happily went to her car and waved goodbye.  Ah....

I do apologize for all that dissertation but it was important in my story.  First of all, my blog readers know my favorite subjects are The Grandbaby and Jesus.  So with that said, I was thinking this morning of that whole experience and how much it related to my life lately.  I have been in BIG prayer for a few weeks about many BIG serious things in the lives of my family, friends, and country.  You never know what the answers will be.  You want them to be what you want, but you have to pray in faith for the best.  And I'm learning that.  I was encouraged when things were leveling out.  Then this adhesion flare happened.  You know, as I think of The Grandbaby's arms so tightly around my neck crying, I could see myself with my arms around my heavenly Father's neck pouring my heart out to him.  While I didn't know the problem of that little girl yesterday, my heavenly Father always knows mine.  All The Grandbaby had to do was ASK.  So my blessing this morning is the realization that really all I have to do is ASK.  It's such a simple thing.  Just ask.  The faith that I have in Jesus will allow me to ask in faith with belief that HE will answer.  And I know that HE wants to work all for good to those that love him...and I do love him.  

I just got that blessing this morning and decided I would share it with you my blog readers.  

"Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you:  For everyone that asketh, receivers; and he that seeketh, finders; and to him that knocketh, it shall be opened."           Matthew 7:7-8

Consider........

WINGS

As I labored today treating my hydrangea bushes for the fungus they have developed, I was excited to notice a hummingbird near my feeder.  I had taken out my camera to the porch in case of a photo event opportunity today.  I finished my gardening job, then got myself settled on the porch with my camera in my hand.  I had noticed on another day when three hummingbirds were headed to the feeder that it caused a ruckus....evidently hummingbirds are very territorial.  My patience paid off.....

After I had put my goods away and got back in the house, I had a yen to just walk out the driveway a bit with my camera just to see if I might see anything fun.  It was a day of delights for me....I guess the Lord knew how my heart would sing with delight.  

There was a small bit of thistle out in my woods and the most gorgeous butterfly enjoying the nectar or whatever thistle produces that butterflies enjoy.  (Remember?  Science was not my strong subject.)

Did you notice?  The butterfly has a large part of it's wing gone and a large slit on the other wing.  I stood there and continued taking many many photos of this butterfly.  I moved closer and closer.  Before I knew it, another butterfly joined this one.  They looked identical to me....maybe were twins, but for the wing disability in the first one.  

Then before I knew it, both butterflies were near each other both enjoying the sweetness or whatever it is that thistle produces for butterflies.

There was enough of the thistle's good stuff for these and even more.

Are we not a lot like these butterflies?  Some of us have scars that are evident from the outside....battles scars of fear, sin, trouble, anxiety, and much more while some of us have scars that do not appear on the outside.  

I noticed that the butterfly with the broken wing did a lot more fluttering in place than the one that had whole wings.  The broken butterfly used a lot of energy but it never gave up.  It kept drinking and drinking and had the same amount of flying ability as the one with the wings not broken.  Just because that butterfly had a chunk out of it's wing, it seemed to never give up and just kept on enjoying the blessing of that thistle.  

The thing I have taken away from this experience today is that no matter what your brokenness is, Jesus is the answer.  He has, as that thistle had for the butterflies, all we need to sustain us, all we need to delight us, and all we need to get us through every day of life.  And, as the two butterflies do in the photo above, HE has enough for us to all drink and take from HIM.  Every.  Single.  Day.  Even at the same time!

"O taste and see that the Lord is good:  blessed is the man that trusteth in him."  Psalm 34:8

"Behold the fowls of the air: for they sow not, neither do they reap, nor gather into barns; yet your heavenly Father feedeth them.  Are ye not much better than they?"   Matthew 6:26

So fly on high with trust and joy!

Consider....

SIGNS OF THE TIMES

 During my grooming time this morning, I felt the need to clean up my hairbrush.  The hairs that were in it are not as dark as they used to be.  Just sayin'......hmmm.......

WELCOMING PRAYER

 I was just sending a message to someone about the fact that one of my retired doctors is battling covid and it's complications.  As I finished the message, I typed "They welcome prayer".  And it hit me.  What a wonderful thing to welcome prayer!

Mr. Webster describes the word "welcome" as "to accept with pleasure the occurrence or presence of".  

This past week has been one of many instances that I have found myself often in my "prayer closet".  I've struggled, uh huh, I've struggled with how prayer works.  I have finally determined that my heavenly Father likes me to talk to him in prayer.  It draws me closer to HIM and, if I pray with faith, I can know with assurance that He will provide.  He's proved it o'er and o'er and o'er.  Yes, HE welcomes MY prayer.

I know, too that many times I have asked folks to pray for needs I have.  Many times, I've kept needs to myself and prayed myself.  Like my daddy once said, "If I pray for myself, I know it's done."  And yes that's true but I have learned that others entreating on my behalf is not a bad thing.  

This post idea was so sudden, I haven't researched Bible verses but I know there are many.  The current one on my email page is "The effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much."  Then there's that good one of "pray without ceasing" (shoutout to my good Methodist "pray without ceasing friend"!).  There's "praying always with prayer and supplication in the Spirit" and "men ought always to pray".  I must mention the one I look at on the wall behind my computer which I guess could be one of my most favorites of all...."Be careful for nothing; but in every thing by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known unto God.  And the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus."  Amen!  I really love that!

So I ask you to consider joining me to welcome prayer.  Welcome the honor of praying for others and welcome the honor of others praying for you.  Most of all welcome the blessing of your own direct prayer line to your heavenly Father!

I am reminded of a song I had heard regularly as a child and as a child I thought it was a fun church song.  It is called "The Royal Telephone"--gotta love the name!  You may be an oldster and remember it and you may be a youngster and think I'm weird.  Some of the words go like this:

Central's never busy always on the line.  You may hear from heaven almost any time.  Tis a royal service, free for one and all--when you get in trouble, give this royal line a call.

Telephone to glory, O what joy divine!  I can feel the current moving on the line; Built by God the Father for his loved and own. We may talk to Jesus thru this royal telephone.

There will be no charges, telephone is free.  It was built for service just for you and me.  There will be no waiting on this royal line--telephone to glory, always answers just in time.

Fail to get an answer?  Satan's crossed your wire by some strong delusion or some base desire.  Take away obstructions--God is on the throne--And you'll get the answer thru the royal telephone.

Carnal combinations cannot get control of this line to glory, anchored in the soul.  Storm and trial cannot disconnect the line, held in constant keeping by the Father's hand divine.

That has a nice RING to it, doesn't it?!

THE WAFFLE--NEW AND IMPROVED

Tomorrow ends my time of 3 week quarantine.  I'm happy to report to you interested blog readers that the big hip injection has taken my pain level down to slightly under a one on the pain scale.  Grateful am I?  Heck yeah.  I had forgotten how it feels to not have excruciating pain.  The administering doctor said I could get 3-9 months of pain relief from this injection.  My hope is that I will get the nine months worth....wow!

During my time at home, I have continued to cook and continued to tire of the foods I'm cooking.  Honestly, I'm tired of cooking any food but especially the same over and over.  I have discovered some new things I will be sharing soon.

At our house for years, the breakfast routine has been biscuits on Monday and Saturdays and waffles or pancakes on Sunday, Tuesday, and Thursday.  It's whatever I can cook or even a bowl of cereal the other days.  As I was spending cookbook reading time the other day, I came across a waffle recipe I tried.  Always in the past, I made the waffles with baking mix as a base.  I have the recipe memorized....3/4 cup milk, 1 egg, 1 tablespoon oil, and enough baking mix to get consistency I wanted which varied in whether or not I was making waffles or pancakes.

I tried this new and improved (and can I say EASY) recipe last Sunday morning and then again this morning.  I have to share with you.  It's soooo easy.  It goes like this and is easily halved or doubled for your family size:

CRISP WAFFLES

2 c. self-rising flour

1/2 c. vegetable oil

1 1/2 c. milk

3/4 c. pecans, finely chopped (optional)

Combine flour, oil and milk in a bow.  Beat with electric mixer until well mixed.  Preheat waffle iron.  Pour approximately 3/4 cup of batter onto hot iron.  Sprinkle batter with pecans, if desired.  Lower waffle iron lid and bake until well browned and crispy.  Yield:  3-4 waffles

So easy and so good tasting...and yes, for all you seasoned cooks that noticed, no egg.  Yum!

Look for the other new recipe we had for last Sunday lunch in a future post....

THE DAYS ARE LONG BUT.....

...the years are short.  I had not heard that saying until a time back but it stuck with  me.  "The days are long, but the years are short."  Isn't that the truth?  Especially when those years seem to go by faster and faster and faster.

It seems just like yesterday I was a young mother driving my little girl to preschool for the first time.  I fretted and fretted over that day.  Face it, she was my only child.  I didn't have a chance with another for a "do-over".

At that time, The Girl was going to attend the preschool in our small town at the Baptist church.  The plan was to pull the car up, the teacher would open the door, and the child would get out.  Did my child do that?  Of course she did!  She bebopped right out of that car, took that teacher's hand, began to walk in and never looked back.  This mama started crying before putting the car in gear to drive away.  Geez.  How dare she go in and not look back?

With that experience "under my belt", I can compassionately smile a bit as The Girl goes through her first day of school emotions for The Grandbaby.  And, especially this year as this is the last first day of preschool. The Girl sent photos.  I found myself comparing mentally the past two years when she's held this little sign while she wears her mommy constructed cricut name shirt.  I see the longer hair, the taller body, and the growth.  That little impish smile is the same.

I consider and realize that, just as the Lord had a plan for The Grandbaby's Mama as she bebopped in that church preschool that day long ago, HE has a plan for The Grandbaby.  My prayers will continue that The Grandbaby will be kind and love Jesus first and foremost amidst all the other things she will learn in her life.

So there you go... let the school year begin!

QUARANTINE

To prepare for my hip procedure in two more days (Yay!), today begins my sixth day of quarantine.  Happily, it won't last much longer even though that was in question earlier this week when there was a threat of cancellation and rescheduling.  Thankfully, it all seems to be in place now.  I've gotten the planned call from the surgical center nurse so I take that a positive sign.

I have great expectation that this procedure will help my extreme pain.  I pray that is the case.  I, the queen of high pain tolerance, have really been hurting.  I remember "hope deferred taketh the heart sick..." or so the scriptures say so I retain hope.  I thought it would be nice if about three pounds of fluid was taken out, but I realized realism is best.  Most likely that won't happen, I just better hope there's some to get out.  I will be excited for the cortisone injection.  I look forward to less pain.  Did I say that already?  I mean it.

This morning I was pondering things I have learned during this time of quarantine.  I've learned I miss my family.  I usually prepare supper on Hump Day each week and we gather around my table to eat and talk.  I really do enjoy that.  It won't happen today.  Quarantine.

I've learned that even with time stretching out ahead of me during the day, I still get distracted and get little accomplished.  Some things might never change.  That might be one of them.

I've talked to several medical personnel during this time--schedulers, nurses, etc.  In the first of my many conversations with The Scheduler when she told me the doctor was sick (this was the problem for the potential cancellation), I told her I was going to pray for the doctor--not because I wanted my procedure done timely (even though I did, can't lie), but because I felt a need in my spirit to pray for her, whatever her condition.  She told me the doctor would appreciate that and that when she did my procedure, I should tell her that.  So in a later conversation when The Scheduler called to tell me that the doctor had improved and would do my procedure Friday, we again talked about prayer and she assured me I should tell the doctor Friday that I prayed for her.  (So by golly, I'm gonna tell the doctor Friday I prayed for her.)  Something The Scheduler said after that really got me to thinking.  She said something to the effect that problems of life are like sandpaper, they are rough rough as they are filing away on you, but you find yourself smoother and better when it's done. She mentioned us all being in the image of God.  Let me tell you I got the chills as that's exactly what my devotion was that morning--not sandpaper, but being made in the image of God.  God is working.  Isn't that the truth?

I have also learned with the slowness of my spent time that reading the Word and spending time with Jesus daily IS so important.  The things He's showed me from His Word, the encouragement I've found in reading of devotions, and just simple time in worship and prayer has helped me.  One of the devotions was from Malachi (which I never read--do you?), the next to last chapter, and it told me that the Lord has floodgates of blessings to open to us.  We just don't ask.  So quarantine has taught me to ask.  And after that, it's taught me to believe.  And after that, it's taught me just to praise.  Because I know my God has this.  He has everything in HIS power and HIS control.

I've learned even when I think I've got all my groceries I need for a week, I look in my pantry to find no chili sauce, no tomato paste, and one 14 oz can of tomato sauce.  Why is that important today?  Because I've planned for a week to have spaghetti tonight.  I'm sure in a couple of hours I will be able to tell you that quarantine has taught me to make homemade chili sauce and homemade tomato sauce.  If it has taught me well, maybe I'll share that with you two blog readers later.

I've learned that a little bit of music can help the day along.  I always start out with Alan Jackson's gospel songs.  I told The Husband that when I die if I have to have taped music at my funeral, it had better be Alan Jackson.  Nobody can sing "I Love to Tell the Story" like Alan.  And oh, how I love the story....of Jesus and His love.

Yes, I've learned a lot this past week.  Most of all, I've learned that life is really not in my control, nor was it ever intended to be.  Yes, I can use common sense to help and aid problems but ultimately my hope, trust, and faith is in Jesus who has it all in HIS hands.

Consider.......

THE CLOSET

I will begin this post with a question.  Are your closets tidy and clean?  If they are, wow, congratulations!  Mine sure aren't.  I'm a packrat and so want to get over that trait.  My goal is to someday before I die have my closets cleaned out and in order.  I will admit to the sin of coveting when I see photos of a nice cleanly organized closet.  Mine would probably fit better on a hoarding television show.  Sad, but true.

I imagine you wonder where I'm going with this mindset.  The Husband and I watched one of my favorite inspirational movies the other night, The War Room.  Any of you who have seen it know the plot and probably remember it well, it has that kind of effect.  If you have not seen it, it focuses on the power of prayer.  I recommend it highly.  Did you hear that?  I RECOMMEND IT HIGHLY.

Every time I see the movie, I love it over and over again.  A good portion of that reason is that it sets my heart to remembrance of the power of prayer.  Prayer for family, prayer for health, prayer for our country, prayer for EVERYTHING.  

In the plot of the movie, an elderly woman has a prayer closet when she goes daily or more and prays.  She has prayers written on pages taped to the walls and such as that.  The scriptures talk about going into the closet and praying.  

I have no closet to empty so I can go in and pray.  It's just a fact.  I look at this, though, a bit differently.  I look at this as a closet of the heart.  I see it as anywhere you can be alone with Jesus and just talk to him in fervent prayer.  In my world, I talk to Him daily, sometimes more than once or twice and I talk to him as a friend.  When I go to Him in FERVENT prayer, it's in a prayer closet--a place of just me Him and me...out loud.  Those times are when I cry to Him, when I tell Him all the problems of my heart, and when I praise Him for ALL His goodness...and believe me, folks, that's a lot of praise as He's full of a lot of goodness!  It's the time of the fervent prayer that I can trust Him more and more and more with everything.  I'm learning.  Still, as I age.  I'm learning.  It's those times of fervent prayer that I can almost physically feel His hand touching me in love and assuring me that He's got all this in His control.  I leave that "closet" in peace and assurance and stronger because of it.

So, I encourage you, my friends, to find your "closet" and get in touch with the Lord.  He is the answer to all the world's problems.  He is the answer to all my problems.  He is the answer to all your problems.  You CAN trust HIM.  So I say, consider....and do it!

"But thou, when thou prayest, enter into thy closet, and when thou hast shut thy door, pray to thy Father which is in secret; and thy Father which seeth in secret shall reward thee openly."  

Matthew 6:6

FALTERING

Mr. Webster defines the word "falter" as to "start to lose strength or momentum and to move unsteadily or in a way that shows a lack of confidence".

It seems this world has caused me a lot of faltering lately.  How about you?  I sat this morning and kind of revamped my thoughts as I realized the fact that I am faltering a bit.  Okay, okay, I'm faltering a lot.....

For one thing, as this Covid 19 virus had seem to let up, so did I.  A bit.  Granted I still wear a mask when I go in public.  I have a vast array of masks of various colors and shapes and fits--my newest are a pack I bought at the local discount store with the name of a popular underwear.  Yes, they look like men's t-shirts (or men's underwear) but they're breathable, white, and match everything .  Now as I listen to the media, I find myself a bit discouraged that there are more cases revving up.  Yes, makes me falter a bit.

For another thing, I was only able to take the NSAID low dose a short time, enough of a time to make me realize how much they help my massive pain level from my hip and back.  Then, with various gastro effects, I had to leave the wonderful medicine off and now it's out of my system and the pain is back big time.  I tried to change my procedure to a week earlier--yes, the procedure should help the pain--but there were no availabilities so I will wait for August 7.  It can't get here soon enough.  Bad news is I have to quarantine a week prior, then I have to stay close in a couple of weeks after to avoid the effects that the lower immune system from the procedure will cause me.  That's three weeks.  I have a little hope that someone might cancel a week earlier and I can have that slot but, yes, makes me falter a bit.

There are other things....some sadness at departures, some concerns about future things, and "always something" as I have begun to say.  In a nutshell, life.

I was refreshed somewhat this morning as I finished my devotion.  It's from that Streams of the Desert book I was gifted with by a sweet friend.  That book's daily devotions hit my life daily more than any I have ever read.  It's mostly talked about faith--reckon I need that kind of talk?  Well, duh, of course I do.  Today it asked the question over and over, "When is the time to trust?"  That hit me hard in my faltering.  I had a strong talk with Jesus and hope I have refreshed myself to know that HE is the one that is in control of it ALL.  Goes back to that verse I quote often on this blog, Romans 8:28...remember that one?  "And we know that all things work together for good...."

Last week was summer revival at our church.  Uh huh.  In the midst of covid.  Our deacons made rules as they have the past few months that remained in place during the week.  There was social distance sitting, a few masks (yes mine when I was among the people), some assigned seats, no handshaking or hugging (and for Baptists, that's a big deal), and no hymnals.  Wow.  With all that said, I wondered how it would go.  Truly, I faltered a bit.  It actually went pretty well, I think.  The Spirit of the Lord was not hindered, one came to Jesus, and hearts were refreshed and revived.

I do want to share a little thing from baptizing Sunday.  As one who takes many of the photos, I sat in my chair alone and snapped.  I took a picture of The Grandbaby as she sat up on the curb---no she didn't social distance--oops.

I thought of all the many years past when I had taken pictures of children on that same curb or children sitting on the ground watching the baptizing....not really understanding what it meant, but fun to watch.  I thought of the bulk of those children coming to the Lord and being baptized themselves when the time came for them to come to Jesus.  As I looked at the photo, my eyes teared up as I knew that one day the same Jesus that came into all those hearts of those children before would come into the heart of The Grandbaby.  I hope I'm there taking pictures when she's baptized.    Those kinds of experiences can cause a faltering spirit to refresh for sure.

As The Grandbaby stayed with me yesterday on our regular Monday, I found myself hearing her singing.  Boy, now she has begun to enjoy singing.  Usually, it's her now favorite Trolls songs.  At first I thought that was what she was singing then I realized the words were a bit familiar.  (Trolls' songs are not familiar.)   I found myself listening closer and I realized it was a song from last week's revival and our past church services.  She was singing, "When I wake up in the morning, when I lay my head to rest, I am blessed, I am blessed."  Out of the mouth of a babe....

So....

When is the time to trust?  When I am faltering....

When is the time to trust?  When I am afraid....

When is the time to trust?  When my heart is sad....

When is the time to trust?  When all is going well....

When is the time to trust?  Always and forever!

Consider.....