I was brain-deep in internal dialogue.
Prayer, I guess, but in the flimsiest of ways.
As John drove over the couple-mile bridge that spans the Pine Island sound waters, I began shooting up some arrow prayers to God.
"Oh, God, you know I hate flying. And now we're supposed to be flying home into rainy, icy weather Sunday. Could you puuuuuleaaase do something about that?"
John's voice breaks into my haphazard prayer.
"We're going to be fine, honey. It's just a plane ride," he says.
I nod my head yes, as to say that I'm well aware of the statistics that say we're safer flying than driving. Because I know he's going to pull out that fact card the more he sees me fidgeting and fretting over the pending flight back to Chicago.
However, I just cannot help myself from engaging into this conversation I always lose.
"How do you know that it's not going to be bumpy and terrible?" I ask.
"Because not all flights are like that," he says. "And we'll be fine."
I stare out into the blue waves breaking against the white sand shores of the causeway and continue my messy, faulty half prayer.
"God, could you just give me a sign to calm my heart?" I ask. "Like dolphins or something?"
No sooner than I let the thought run through my head do I ask for God to scratch that request -- I know He's faithful. I know I can trust Him. And I know I'm supposed to test the Lord by asking for signs and such.
I repent in my heart.
And not seconds after I ask for a do-over regarding my sign request a fin pops through the silky, rippling, turquoise water. And then another and another. And another and another.
Suddenly, I'm not just watching the waters move and break, I'm watching an entire family of dolphins jet through the blue, jumping into the air as they play and swim.
Not a "oh-everything-is-going-to-be-all-right-on-your-flight" sign.
But a sign saying, "I hear you, child.
And I know you need Me to reach out and give you some extra love to calm your heart.
To remind you that I'm bigger and better. I'm in control. And you can rest."
My doubting heart, my questioning brain don't deserve a love letter like that.
But He sent one anyway.
It's the story of my life.
I don't deserve it, but He sends what I need anyway.
In so many ways.
Want to live intentionally and remember the simple moments that make up the bigger picture? Live fully, capture it and share with us every Thursday. This week, Melissa is hosting our link up. I hope to read yours.