"Glad you Came, Sweet Girl."

Two people have not received their way beyond over-due spotlight on my blog. Yet, they are in every word I type because I believe that I inherited the "dreamer" mindset solely from them. You would think they were just an ordinary couple in their seventies watching the news, attending every church function possible, or working on the latest quilt project. Yet, once upon a time, my sweet grandparents were a modern-day Romeo and Juliet. Despite the fact that they were sixteen and nineteen and that their parents might disapprove, my grandparents' love was all that mattered. Although it may be classified as "crazy," they eloped and got married as teenagers. They have been married over fifty years since. So the next time you say I am a hopeless romantic/crazy dreamer, I got it honestly. It's in my genes, and their story makes that crazy-dreamer heart pitter patter every time I think about it. 

Back to present time. Over the Christmas break, my grandfather had to have a procedure done for bladder cancer that they found. The day before the operation, my mom and I drove to Hattiesburg to be with him the morning of, and in all my morning-person glory, I was at the hospital at around 6:15am. If you know me even the slightest bit, you know that I am DEATHLY afraid of needles. My love for leopard print is the equivalent of my hatred for needles- if that says anything. Well, as soon as we walked into the holding room where my grandfather was, I saw the IV. You would have thought I had seen a King Cobra morphed with a tarantula. So, there I am, slumping into a chair, trying to smile, and feeling nauseated as my complexion descended to Casper. I was in no form or fashion equipped to be in a hospital room looking straight at my ultimate fear, but I faced my giant, so-to-speak, for my grandfather. As they wheeled him out of the holding room to take him to his operation, he looked up at me and said "Glad you came, sweet girl." My. heart. melted. That was the only strength I needed to be there. That was all that mattered.

I feel like this is true for our spiritual walk as well.  I heard once that "God does not call the equipped. He equips the called." There are going to be times in our lives when we are called to face our own unique giants. We may be scared. We may feel ill-prepared. We may feel like we aren't good or worthy enough. (We may be about to faint in a Hattiesburg hospital.) Yet, if we take that step and face our fears, God "equips the called." He gives us the strength to be in that moment. He gives us the resources we need to complete our task. He gives us a sling-shot with a rock of faith. He smiles and whispers,

  "Glad you came, sweet girl."

(And, that's all that matters.)