Insert popular 90s dance moves *here*

My man is headed home! He’s got almost two full days of travel… he hops on one of his two big international flights in two hours, and I get to see him TOMORROW! I’m so excited it’s all I can do not to do some silly 90s “whoop there it is” dance move to the Vanilla Ice soundtrack that’s playing in my head. Maybe I’ll burn some energy by doing the running man when I get home.

Thanks again for praying… we are so blessed to be surrounded by friends and family who are such faithful prayer warriors. I can’t wait to hear all of the stories about the big things God did in India. Unfortunately communication was terrible in the last city they were in, so even when we spoke on the phone it was so garbled that I only understood about half of it, and email wasn’t even an option. I look forward to hearing more over the coming week. And I look forward to hugging Mr. Right’s neck.

What have I learned while he’s gone? To give up control. I decided the very first day that I have zero control over anything that happens on the other side of the planet, so I might as well not waste my precious time worrying.

My man visited a leper/HIV/TB colony.
My man flew in an airplane after his pilot and grounds crew got in a big fight over whether or not the plane was flyable. 
My man drove out to villages so remote they’ve never seen a white man before.
And the worst one – I never knew when I’d hear from him next. 


How would worrying have changed any of those situations?

Instead, I tried to blanket the team in prayer and then move on. Most days it worked well… occasionally I had a pity party, but that was more out of missing my man than worrying about him. My God, in all his sweetness, chose to give me supernatural peace in place of panic.

If only I could apply the same idea to life here. Control is just an illusion. I don’t have any more control over things in Fort Worth than I do in India, and yet I worry so needlessly over so many things here at home. I’m going to pray that God will continue to refine me to the point where I can blanket things in prayer, and then move on. Worrying causes way too much stress… and wrinkles. Why bother?

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