I’ve decided to believe in miraculous things. Leprechauns, Olaplex, flying reindeer, the instant pot …. All of it.
And that includes Jesus. I’m choosing to believe what the Bible says is true. I’m choosing to believe he has more power than I do (that’s a relief), that he is ushering me through every hard thing covered in protection (again, relief) and that he will, one fine day, save me from this crazy world we live in.
I mean, that’s a whole lot better than living like we get exactly what we deserve, right? We’re much too cute to walk around with that kind of burden and he knows that.
Let’s just take a quick look at where we are and how we got here. If we’ve told God even one time that we believe, that’s it. The miracles will happen and bragging rights belong to him. He will lovingly guide us through every remaining adventure in our life and we are to go forth in gratitude. I can live with that.
Oh, our hair is fabulous, to be sure. But miracles and yard work? That’s just not what we do.
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