Today was a hard day.
Between our younger child’s mysterious pains, recovering from complex ptsd wearing headphones all day (to avoid my hypervigilance to loud sounds) and working through a very hard new book on trauma recovery, I went to church desperate to be comforted by God.
Every Sunday I go to a Tanzanian service by myself before the kids and Cliff head to a church with a Sunday school. But instead of going by my usual bumpy bajaji (tuktuk), my bajaji driving friend arrived instead in a borrowed car playing the one song I’d been listening on repeat all week.
I sat in his car, holding back tears, feeling God’s tangible touch— He had seen me, comforted me, carried me in a comfortable vehicle with a song He knew I needed.
That is God. That is who He is.
When you feel desperate and are the end of yourself, don’t forget His million miracles in yr life.
