Angels

This song gets me every time. My parents use to play this Richard Smallwood CD out, blasting it in the car on the way to church. It's touched me since I was little. I'm so blessed to have been raised by parents that gave me a strong foundation in the church - a strong, Georgia baptist church at that, the kind in which you had no choice but to absorb and soak up the pastor's message because they would scream it, sing it and shout it the whole service. You would leave feeling exhausted. Some folks don't need all that shouting, but I'm grateful because when you're 9 and you think you'd rather be at home in your PJs watching TV with a bowl of cheerios, you need somebody to shout a message until you finally get it and understand it and can carry it with you over the years. My pastor didn't shout for nothing. He could speak quietly. He could whisper as he told a story. But when he was making his point, rest assure he was going to let out a shout or two. I have a lot of growing to do spiritually, on my own. I need to make room for what I'll call be-still time to meditate on the bible and my own personal relationship with God. I  need to learn the bible. I'm actually excited to see how far I can grow. I think this is what I'm supposed to do as I fight this illness and recover. But at least I am starting with a strong foundation and a heart that's acutely aware of God's love and healing powers... and at least I have this song to remind me that "unseen hands are guiding me through my storm." I might vent every now and then but honestly, I have no worries.