Photo by Brett Sayles on Pexels.com The past two days have been a bit of a valley. Like most people I know, I’m not a fan of disappointment and it seems that disappointment has been a reoccurring theme as of late. Let me explain. It’s been 68 days since I stepped foot in a church building. That’s 1,632 hours since I kneeled before God in a sanctuary, asking Him one last time if He was absolutely sure this was His will. (He was, by the way). 68 days. When I walked out with my

“‘Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or discouraged because of the king of Assyria and the vast army with him, for there is a greater power with us than with him. With him is only the arm of flesh, but with us is the LORD our God to help us and to fight our battles.’ And the people gained confidence from what Hezekiah the king of Judah said.” 2 Chronicles 32:7-8 (NIV) Gosh, I wish I were strong. I have often thought what it would be like to be strong, both physically