Thursday, May 11, 2017

#16, May 11, 2015, What I Fear

This is the next in a series of excerpts from my journal, written during the last year of Dave's life.

Reading today about peace and the impossibility of finding it here on earth—hunger, illness, sin—and the list of what plagues us is a lot longer. Dreamed last night about Harriet, Beth’s grandmother, and woke feeling like she had died. It feels like a test of whether God will give me a sense of fear when Dave is in danger.

What I’m looking for is someone I know will look out for me—rescue me when I can’t help myself. I can only do so much. I need to know God is there—know in a quantifiable way—need to see Him acting. Otherwise, I am truly alone. I am more afraid of this than anything else.

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