Trusting—Carolyn R. Wilker

In March two of my daughters gave birth, each of them to a baby boy. We are happy for them and my husband is delighted to have grandsons to join the parade of granddaughters we already have and love dearly. We are pleased and thankful, most of all, for healthy babies who are doing well, and that the mothers, though still tired from broken nights of sleep, are steadily recovering from the birth of their babies.

It takes enormous energy to feed a growing fetus throughout pregnancy, giving birth, and then nourishing herself and baby in the post-birth days. Mothers can feel overwhelmed by the expectations and needs too.  And if there’s another child, to include that sibling in the daily routine and share the love. A new mother, or one having a second or third child, makes adjustments along the way. Often many. She appreciates the encouragement and physical support of  her husband, family and others, through lending a hand with tasks or prepared meals, during that time. Opportunities for an extra nap, too, to catch up on some sleep while Grandma or another family member cuddles the new baby and watches over the household for awhile.

I’ve had much opportunity in this past month to cuddle these new little grandchildren, and it made me think again, as I looked at the photos, how relationships build. How a baby needs everything—so much of his parents’ attention, for feeding, changing, comforting and protection. Completely dependent on his mother and father and family for those things, the baby does not yet know that it’s surely coming his way.

my husband and I with Isaac

The baby can only cry to let his family know that he needs something, long before he has the ability, or vocabulary, to tell what he needs. He learns, hopefully, that his care is assured, that someone will feed him when he’s hungry, that someone will rock him when he’s upset, and change him when he is wet. When the needs are met, baby can fall asleep again. In that long time, with steady loving care, a trust is built. Trust takes time. It builds a little at a time.

cousin Evy holds Nolan

I think of my brother, adopted at age 5 and a half, who did not have that same trust of adults in his life. His early life was full of broken relationships. We do not know for certain how many of them, but we know that those hurts take a lot of time to heal. Likely some of them never do.

Jesus asks us to come to him as children. He asks that we trust him with our needs and our life. It’s often hard to accept that trust that he’ll take care of us, maybe especially hard for people who’ve had similar early experiences as my brother. He’s learned some of that unconditional love having been part of our family, and yet trusting God with his life is a place he has not yet attained. I pray that someday it may still happen for him.

This same Jesus who came to us as a baby, whose earthly parents took care of his physical needs—his hunger, his need for comfort and protection from danger as an infant and as a child. He understands that and has experienced it.  He asks us only to trust him with our needs. And I’m here to say, it’s easier some day than others.

Author, editor, Carolyn Wilker

 www.carolynwilker.ca

WHEN IT DOESN'T FIT/Donna Mann

Over the past several weeks I've been working on an old manuscript. "And no one pours new wine into old wineskins. Otherwise, the wine will burst the skins, and both the wine and the wineskins will be ruined. No, they pour new wine into new wineskins." Mark 2:22

With this scripture in mind, I began to sift through what was new and what I was trying to wring new truths out of old settings, goals, conflicts and conclusions. Something was wrong. It wasn't hanging together as it should.

I went back to my outline and premise. Yes, secure and ready to rebuild or revise. I thought of the wineskins. And began to think how the idea of putting new wine in new skins definitely made sense. Old wineskins, used wineskins and immoveable old wineskins - I don't think so. And old wine into old wineskins just plain stunk.

How can I manage this? Manipulation? Not a good idea. Force feed? Not a chance.  A truth is a truth isn't it? A truth will stand against all and any manipulations one might apply. So what could I salvage from this old tired, immovable thought process that was timeless? 

I went back to the manuscript's premise. Yes, it's solid. Ageless! There is a truth there. There is a good story here. Like the idea of putting wine in wineskins, which has proven itself through the years, I began to compare this idea to my words, phases and chapters. What could not go in? What was tired and just wouldn't fit.

As these thoughts began to challenge my thinking, new wineskins began to take shape along with new wine. Yes, same old concept that's been used since forever. This would work. Six months later I confess, "Yes, this did work."


Sweet wine!

Blessings,
Donna Mann
Check out donnamann.org

Anticipating God by Glynis M. Belec

 

Anticipation is based on attitude.

I can anticipate the worst case scenario. But if I do that I will fret and worry and all parts of my life going forward will be hindered. I will be sick with apprehension. My heart will be filled with fear and dread and my energy level will be zapped. My focus will be negative. My spiritual walk will be stalled because I will be too busy thinking about self and, worst of all, not enough about God. I know all this is true, because I have traveled that road.

 That’s door number one.

Door number two: I can anticipate that ‘God’s got this’. When I am positive, endorphins [neurohormones] go into action. Endorphins, my ‘feel good’ hormones, modify the way in which my nerve cells respond to transmitters – maybe God’s gift to us when we look to Him instead of self? I’m sticking with that. And I’m also sticking with door number two because it is the best way (I have discovered over the years) to deal with the dirt; to conquer the seemingly insurmountable and to swallow the hurt and the torment.

Love isn’t a Band-Aid. Love is hope and hope is a sister to endurance. ‘Love conquers all’ might initially seem like a platitude but if I turn that into the ‘Love of God conquers all’, then in my life, I find it to be truth. I am a ‘fix-it’ kind of a person so I am first to stand up with my hammer and nails or my first-aid kit complete with Band-Aids, but some things I have learned I have to leave to the Love of God.

I don’t believe God inflicts disease and catastrophe upon us.   

It is God’s will for you to be healed. And behold, a leper came and worshiped Him, saying, “Lord, if You are willing, You can make me clean. Then Jesus put out His hand and touched him, saying, “I am willing; be cleansed.” Immediately his leprosy was cleansed. 

Matthew 8:2-3

 I do believe He allows it to happen. 

Beloved, do not be surprised at the fiery trial when it comes upon you to test you, as though something strange were happening to you. But rejoice insofar as you share Christ's sufferings, that you may also rejoice and be glad when his glory is revealed. If you are insulted for the name of Christ, you are blessed, because the Spirit of glory and of God rests upon you. But let none of you suffer as a murderer or a thief or an evildoer or as a meddler. Yet if anyone suffers as a Christian, let him not be ashamed, but let him glorify God in that name. 

1 Peter 4:12-19

I also believe that once we have gone through the fire we have two choices – thanking God, because we are stronger; more trusting of God’s awesome power; more understanding that only God is in control OR cursing God for the pain and heartache; denying God’s power; and fighting harder to gain control and becoming bitter as a result.

The trials continue. The fiery darts fill the sky. But I know when I anticipate that God is there before me; beside me; behind me, I can be assured that all is well. Not all is well with the world. But all is well because He is King and then Easter was not all for naught.  

Therefore Pilate said to Him, "So You are a king?" Jesus answered, "You say correctly that I am a king For this I have been born, and for this I have come into the world, to testify to the truth Everyone who is of the truth hears My voice."

John 18:37

Glynis lives, loves, laughs and does an awful lot of reading, writing, publishing and praying in her home office. 

Her latest children's book - Hopeful Homer offers hope and encouragement.

Sign, Sign, Everywhere a Sign by Glynis M. Belec

                I love to speak in front of an audience. It’s odd because I also consider myself an introvert by nature.  But stick a microphone in my hand and give me a topic that I am passionate about and I will share until the cows come home.

                My life, lately, has consisted of quite a few speaking engagements and I am really starting to think that my friend was right when she told me that God had a plan for me and she felt it involved some kind of a speaking ministry. I'd bucked the idea at first but now I seem to be settling in nicely to the speaking circuit. I've had five opportunities to speak this year already with three more coming up.                     Sure, I’ve always been a bit of a drama queen so am no stranger to the stage, but in the past, any appearance in front of an audience, has been scripted.

                Now my speaking presence is no longer about memorization skills and how good of an actor I am or think I am. Instead, God is my motivator and my raison d'être. So I try my best to seek God’s will in my presentations. He has blessed me with hope unlimited, so I want to shout it from the mountaintops.

                One of the topics that I speak on is titled – Using My Words. I haul in a plethora of signs that I have scattered all around my home. When I first started doing this I was actually amazed. I didn’t realize I was so literally obsessed with words. And those are just the portable words. I also have Word Art – which include different sayings and these are strategically scattered on the walls throughout our home, too.

                If I had to share some of my favourites – they might include the following:

1. Trust me child. I have it all under control. Love God.

                This sign was given to me by one of my students. Well his mama selected it randomly two weeks prior to the day that I was diagnosed with cancer. She thought it a silly gift at first but oh, how that sign kept me focused and staid on the eyes of Christ.

2. My sister bought this sign for me and it is such a reminder to me in this busy noisy world to take time to Be Still and Know that HE is God! Psalm 46:10

3.  Determination – that’s me; sometimes it gets me into trouble but if I have something on my mind – I do it!

4. Health- I just picked this one  up at a local thrift store. I love it because it serves as a reminder about how precious (and fleeting) life is.

5. Because Nice Matters – really is it so hard to give words of affirmation and lowering a voice instead of raising it? A gentle answer turns away wrath,  but a harsh word stirs up anger 

Proverbs 15:1

6. Laugh! Love it! It is so important to LOLED (laugh out loud every day!)

7. Drama Queen – can’t help it.

8. Probably my favourite - Don’t count the days; make the days count

“Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble.” Matthew 6:34

                                ************************

Then Daniel answered the king, “You may keep your gifts for yourself and give your rewards to someone else. Nevertheless, I will read the writing for the king and tell him what it means." Daniel 5:17

Everybody has a story - Mann

As writers we know the importance of the concept of story. Everybody has a story. Some of us are more accepting of our story than others. Sometimes people have difficulty reflecting on their life because of painful memories while others draw creative energies from looking back over the years. The plus side of this is the older you are, the more stories you have. And the older you are, gives you an advantage to the number of people you have either met or been told about.

If you are a genealogist, you have many stories at the finger-tips. Telling them and writing them down are appropriate ways to remember those people who have impressed you in some way. Precious stories, handed down through the generations, are seen through different perspectives when a writer breathes new life into them.

I was recently gifted with several items of my grandmother; with each one came a story which I would have forgotten, had I not held these things in my hand. An anniversary gift, a hand carved piece of wood or a piece of jewellery fill in gaps in her story.

A cousin put a great grandmother’s diary in my hands several weeks ago. Information about relationships, communities and people suddenly read like a novel to me. The difference being of course that I knew of the characters and the historical settings to be true. Even the plot of the story unravelled paragraph after paragraph on that neatly written page laid out a solid plot.
Over the years I have kept family letters. They describe joys, sorrows, accomplishment and failures, openly. There is no judgement, criticism or censure – only appreciation and wonder.

We don’t have to look far into any of our ancestor’s stories to see all the main ingredients of any narrative: goals, conflicts and disaster/reaction, dilemma and decision. They lived it and good plot proves itself in family documents. Asking questions that beg acknowledgement move us further into the plot. What was the one thing that motivated any one of our ancestors to make the decisions they did? Why did they respond to particular events and situation in certain ways? How did they manage to set goals in the midst of such uncertainty of homesteading, building community and sustaining relationships?

Your research and artefacts keep you on track with the personality traits that you have gleaned about individuals. You’re in good company: safe and secure in the arms of history and family culture.

As a child, I remember a package of letters slid into the material of an old truck that sat in a curtained area of an upstairs bedroom in our farmhouse. The red ribbon tied neatly around the letters stated their importance. Although I remember being very curious, I never opened them as they silently spoke of privacy. Later in my life, I noticed they were gone.

So it is with family stories: some are to be shared, retold and interpreted while others simply beg the integrity in which they were created.

Donna Mann
Aggie’s Storms (2007) Brucedale Press (The childhood of Agnes Macphail)
Aggie’s Dream (2010) Brucedale Press (Agnes Macphail’s teenage years)
http://www.donnamann.org

The Check-Up

by Glynis M. Belec

I'm here. I made it. Six months since my last visit and I sit in my forest green chair and I wait my turn. As I join the many people seated in the cancer clinic, that old familiar feeling surfaces in the pit of my stomach. I have spent my five minutes in the lineup at Clinic Reception 2 and have now traded my appointment slip for pager #103.

"Go fill out your questionnaire, please, then have a seat," says the kindly receptionist behind the screened area.
Like an obedient puppy, I obey. I know the routine. The black Acer screen beckons me with its cancerous finger. I forget my password. I don't want to appear a fool so I try to reset it. An older gentleman clad in the gayly coloured lemon-yellow volunteer's smock with the cancer society logo on the pocket, appears from nowhere.  I confess I have forgotten my password. Six months is a long time and my cerebral hard-drive contains 15 or 20 other passwords.

"What year were you born?" asks the kindly volunteer.

A rather personal question, I think. Then I remember nothing is hidden at the cancer clinic. 1956. I punch it into the keyboard. Bingo. It works. I answer all the required questions. Eventually the printer spits out the completed page and I clutch it to my chest.

As I take my seat, I see a woman about my age, holding a beautiful, ebony-haired toddler. Grandma - perhaps? The mother hangs on to the empty stroller and positions herself three seats over from where I sit. She chooses the pink chair.

Dear God, I find myself thinking. Don't let her be the one with cancer.

I do not want the Grandma to be the reason they are at the clinic today, either. But my heart was heavy lest it be the young mother of that beautiful little boy.

Soon the dreaded sound of my pager buzzing brings me back to reality and Kay, the nurse, catches my eye. She greets me in her usual, professional and friendly manner. She settles me into the sterile exmination room and asks me for my completed questionnaire. We speak for a while. She documents my concerns and tucks them into the file.

"Doctor S will be in to see you soon," she smiles.
She hands me my less than glamorous hospital gown and tells me to take my time because Dr. S is busy today. I wait. I dig into my red, Write! Canada bag stuffed with papers, my camera, a writer's magazine, my agenda and a notebook. I don't know what to do first.
My brain plays tricks.
"Your cancer is back! Your cancer is back!" The enemy has a heyday.

I pull out my Fellowscript magazine and start to read. I smile when I see the article written by Marcy Kennedy and Lisa Hall-Wilson - TWG members, on co-writing an article. I remember the listserve discussions on this subject a while ago. I flip through and read articles by more TWG authors. I suddenly feel like the prayer team is with me today - although I didn't tell them I was coming.

Then I think how hesitant I was telling my family about what I would share today. The enemy prods me again - ...the sin of ommission is lying...so you lied to your family...what kind of wife, mother, sister, daughter, friend are you?

Then I feel the presence of Jesus. A peace washes over me and He tells me not to believe the lies. He tells me that it is honourable to care about the feelings of others and that I ommitted nothing. He soothes my soul and tells me it is well.

I hear the footsteps. The door opens and Dr. S enters..

Once you see it, then you don’t – MANN

Over the last few weeks, we’ve had many occasions in Ontario to view on the walk, in the newspapers, through the television camera or on Internet. Certainly, the G8 Summit in Huntsville along with the G 20 Toronto Summit, then quick flashes of Queen Elizabeth on her walk-about, the announcement of David Johnston’s appointment of Governor General, along with various parades and carnivals have kept the geographical area under the media’s eye. I no sooner saw the Queen chatting with the people and accepting flowers then she was gone. But, it’s like that with most things—you wish you just had a few more minutes to enjoy the moment and you find yourself being thankful for small mercies.

Recently I’ve had a few experiences like that in my writing life. Just last week, I hurriedly began to write a thought, explaining, defining and developing an unforgettable concept, and then for a fleeting moment, something different filtered into my mind and caught my attention. I regretfully listened to my inner voice and said, “Oh, you’ll remember that,” or “That’s a good one, but press on.” Therefore, I returned to my great scheme of things watching ‘the good one that I’m sure to remember,’ fade away into the recesses of my mind avoiding recovery. A frustrating feeling arrested me, left me helpless, regretful and almost ready to kill just to capture that significant thought once more. The memory of that one reflection almost captured, reminded me of its absolute potential of taking my story to the editor’s desk.

I walked, sat, extended my hands with palms out to limit anything else that would dare intrude into my private mental space and I waited. I promised, I pledged, I bargained—anything to get my mind to back track.

And then my cat walked across my computer keyboard and by accident or canine appointment, saved my document into cyberspace by stepping on just the right progression of keys. I didn’t have to wait for that thought—I had no place to put it.

After I got over the shock, I began the task again and was able to finish the piece without much difficulty. This was of course after gently positioning the cat in the windowsill rather than in her favourite position of sprawling across my desk with her tail hanging across the keyboard. Nicely arranged thoughts began to fall into place quickly and with ease ready for its first edit—and even with a much shorter word-count. Now, I find myself definitely feeling thankful for this small mercy.



Check out Take Time to Make Memories; WinterGrief; Aggie's Storms at Alibris Books
2nd in the Aggie's series launching in September: Aggie's Dream (The Brucedale Press)
http://www.donnamann.org/

Wait - Hope - Expect - MANN

Be strong and let your heart take courage, all you who wait for and hope for and expect the Lord! Psalm 31: 24

How often do we give up before finishing something important? How often do we lose hope in the midst of trying? In my first pastoral charge in Alberta, I was told, “The second point is 25 miles north, through the Battle River Valley on the road to Lloydminster . . . and watch your driving because the gumbo is like driving in bottomless mud.”

So the second day of my new duties, I decided to visit the northern congregation. I had an old 1975 4-door Pontiac that I discovered later, travelled just as well through fields to make pastoral calls, as it did on muddy roads.

On that particular day, I took the elder’s directions and drove further and further north. I met a farmer driving his tractor on a road on which he said later, he'd never seen a car on it before. So you can tell I got slightly off the beaten path. Any way, back on the main road, I went as far as I thought I should while having some fear of getting lost under that big sky.

I remember stopping the car, getting out and looking over the vast fields. With no trees as I remembered in Ontario, I could literally see for miles. Off in the distance, east to where I was standing, I saw three grain elevators. Now that should have given me a clue that I was close to my destination. (I was soon to learn that every little town had its own grain elevators.) But, east? I decided this could not be a town. After all, I'd been told to go north.

So, I turned back, at times my front bumper pushing the soft mud to open the way. As I looked down at my brown heeled shoes, I reminded myself that I was not in the city now, and if I got stuck, I'd surely have to walk back in my bare feet. When I got into town, one of the elders visited me and asked how I found the folks over the valley. I told him about my journey and that I didn't find the town. “Other than a few ranchers working in their fields, I only saw grain elevators to the east.” He looked at me and laughed. Then he said, "And you didn't go far enough to see the sign to turn to Paradise Valley?”

I’ve always been a cautious person, and I admit that too often I’ve missed the signs. Sometimes I think we make life a lot more difficult that it is. Is it a fear of investing too much time and energy and then having to turn back anyway? Maybe it’s because we’re not willing to risk certain areas of life. Or, possibly having it in our minds how things should be or what they must look like, limits our willingness to live in hope of how they could be. Writing personal experiences can fall into this category too. It can be very intimidating and sometimes easier just to put them in our top drawer and leave them there. This Mother’s Day, I submitted an article to Christianity.ca that I’d been revising for fifteen years. I’m glad I kept going and didn’t turn around.

Blessings,
Donna Mann
http://www.donnamann.org
Check out Kid’s MP3 Farm Stories at http://stores.livingwordsmann.com

CASTING FOR PEACE OF MIND - Bob Scott

A fellow without too much experience of the modern world was taking his first trip in an airliner. He was a little nervous, to say the least. But, all his friends assured him that, modern technology being what it is, he would be safer in the air than driving his pickup truck.

He was finally convinced to give it a try and went to the airport, where he boarded his flight.

After his return, a few days later, his neighbours exclaimed, "See, Billy? You were safe! Now wasn't that easy?"

“Well," Billy snorted, "it was alright. The food was passable and the movie was okay, but I want you to know I never put my weight fully down in the seat for the whole flight!"

This old story, I think, illustrates a difficulty that all of us face from time-to-time. There are just some things that, no matter how many experts tell you about their conviction, you either have to prove for yourself or remain unconvinced.

The other side of this is the certainty that there is a right way and a wrong way to do something. When I was taking my flying lessons, I was taught that there were definite procedures that had to be followed in a ritualistic fashion in order to prevent a catastrophe. It was not enough to know that the last person who used the aircraft had done a ‘walk-around’ and confirmed that the tanks were full, the prop and flying surfaces undamaged. Things might have changed during, or after, the flight.

I remember hearing of a private pilot who pulled into a service centre at an airport, after a long flight, and told a new employee to ‘top off the tanks.’ The pilot went inside while the young attendant went about his task.

The traveller returned, didn’t do a proper ‘walk-around’ and took off. Ten minutes later, he was calling in a ‘Mayday.’ It seems that the new guy had misunderstood what his instructions were. He had filled the tanks on the small plane but had left the ‘top off the tanks.’ Movement of air over the open filler tube had suctioned most of the fuel from the tanks in flight.

Sometimes it pays to be cautious. But there are some things we need to be able to trust.

It is good to have a network of friends who are trustworthy. It is essential to be able to trust our co-workers when there is danger all around.

Let me suggest, too, that we need to be assured we can ‘put our weight fully down on’ the God we believe in.

Different people make different things their personal gods. Money won’t do it. In the present economy, we know it could all be gone tomorrow. Possessions are equally as perishable. Fame is fleeting. No matter how great your friends might think you are, don’t think you can worship your own abilities, or those of others. Maybe your efforts to prove how un-spiritual you can be have become your god of choice. None of these things will support you when life is crashing. In times of trial, it’s amazing how quickly some folks seem to ‘get religion.’

We are told that there is a God we can trust—a God we can put our full weight upon and trust to support us all the time. Some believe that. Some don’t. Until they do, they can’t rest confidently. It makes for a rather uncomfortable trip.

Throw all your worry on [God], because he cares for you. – 1 Peter 5:7 (ISV)

Robert Scott is a pastor and the author of ADVERTISING MURDER, LOST YOUTH and MURDER EXPRESS, titles in the Jack Elton Mystery series, Published by AVALON Books, New York

Trust the Compass - Wegner

Trust the Compass Who hasn’t heard the expression, “Go West, young man?” In the story that went with that admonition, instructions were clear - head west where the action is. This week I read about another challenge involving directions but this time things didn’t turn out as well as they should have.

Seems there was an old seaman who was sharing the story of the early days of learning his trade. He told of how he would head out to sea and invariably get lost. Time after time folks would have to get in their boats, search for and rescue him. In frustration one of them asked, “Why don’t you use a compass?”

Wisely, he took the advice and set the instrument on the bridge as he piloted his boat into open water. Alas, and in spite of their counsel, this novice sailer lost his way again and spent the night afloat. The next day his friends piled into their boats and headed out to find him.“Didn’t you take the compass?” they queried, now nearly choking with frustration.

“Yes,” he assured them, “but no matter how hard I tried to make it point north it would always land on southeast.”

As “duh” as we may label the fellow, I’ve done that in my writing journey. In my efforts to generate income I’ve unwisely taken on certain projects. Though completing them, I found myself nearly too discouraged to try again. Other times I’ve worn myself out knocking on doors that simply wouldn’t open. In every phase of this journey and in too many ways, I’ve pointed my compass (i.e. prayed for wisdom, for strength and for direction) but failed to trust its accuracy.

The two most valuable lessons I’ve learned as a writer are first, that God is interested in my work, even when I was ready to throw up my hands and look for other work (any work, as long as it didn't involve words) and second, that without Christ, I can do nothing. The good news is that with Him I can do all things. Hallelujah!

“As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts higher than your thoughts,” God told his people. My determined goal is to keep my eyes on Christ, paddle with all my might, and trust Him to chart the course.

Life After a Business Plan

It seems to me that the topic “Life After” ranks high on the list of lucrative subjects. There are books written on just about any phase of “life after” from conception to death. Life After Death is addressed by theologians and lay folk alike and there’s no lack of voices waiting to explain the concept of reincarnation and beyond. Insurance and investment experts are at the ready to help us prepare for Life After Retirement or Life After The Kids Leave Home. Then there’s the matter of life after the latest diet plan, herbal formula, workout options or study declaring that chocolate may really be good for us (yeah!). The list goes on, sometimes ad nauseum. But, what about Life After the Business Plan?

Perhaps one of the most difficult lessons I’ve learned sounds so frustratingly simple: Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding. After thirty years in vocational ministry, entering the business world scared the living daylights out of me, to put it in Life After Sheparding terms. Convincing myself that it was neither selfish nor disloyal to charge appropriate fees for my work was nearly mind-boggling. Then there was the first time I had to let a less than competent subcontractor go. That nearly drove me to sackcloth and ashes.

But trusting, not leaning on my own wisdom, is more than that. It’s a rock-solid realization that God is my source. Not those great government contracts. Not the local economic development office. Not the U.S. firm I work for. God is my source. Period.

Trust isn’t always easy when doors stubbornly refuse to open, especially when you know you’re qualified and the product or service you offer is of value. The greatest optimist can be shaken when accounts receivable continually pale beside accounts payable.

A business plan is just that - a plan. I regularly commit my work, my company and my clients to the Lord and I still write proposals, knock on doors and network like crazy. But the difference is that now I rest confidently in the knowledge that “He will bring it to pass.” I’m quiet inside - and what better “Life After” could a person want?