God is good.

So, so good.

This is a fact. Not a theory, belief, or a fairy tale. A fact. A fact - unchanging, regardless whether you or I choose to believe that it is such or not.

It's easy for that to fade into the background of our mind when we're in the midst of trials. It's easy for us to be tempted to blame God when things in our lives go wrong, forgetting all the while to thank Him for the myriads of things that we are given without even needing to ask. We tell those who ask us for favors "No" or that they have to wait- yet when that's the reply we get from our God, we whine, complain, and declare the unfairness of it all. After all, we are only asking for the right to do exactly as we please. Right?

I mentioned that I'm only a little Polly Pocket in my last post, and I thought I might attempt to explain what I meant by that here. I say attempt because trying to explain some of my mental images can be...somewhat difficult. See, growing up we had quite the collection of tiny little plastic people along with the small houses for them to live in. Not just the typical small people that you usually saw- these were petite. Polly Pockets. We collected them at yard sales and on birthdays, whenever and where ever we could. I spent countless hours arranging them perfectly in their minute homes, which typically flipped open in much the same fashion as a locket would. These minuscule people's worlds consisted of their tiny homes that they were too short to see out of. They were incapable of so much as moving with out my aid. Consequently, if Mom were to walk through my wee village, and I would be forced to slam a few houses shut and throw them out of the way, they would have never seen it coming. And it would be easy in such a situation for the thrown person to be upset at the thrower, if they were unable to trust the thrower's heart. To know that he would never cause pain without a reason. And have faith that he can make beauty from ashes. To sing hallelujah, albeit brokenly. It's far from a perfect allegory, I fully recognize that. But it helps me to make sense of my life, and to remember that when things look ugly from my perspective...that my perspective is infinitesimal. Why not trust the one who can see the whole picture?

We were given a gift the other morning, and I still just want to wave my hands and declare "Merci BonDye!" every time I think of it. A simple reminder of the goodness of God, at a time when I felt like we desperately needed just that. A labouring woman had come in the other morning, and seemed close to delivery at the time that Ro and Marcille arrived down at the clinic around 6:30-ish. Things were going normally and well for a bit, until they suddenly regressed quite a bit, and a call for pit was made back to the house. When the rest of us nurses descended on the clinic at nine, they had an IV already started, and they put her right on pit. A decision was made to get on the road out to town with her since we were concerned about the baby at this point, and while Hans went to get the machine ready, every one was asked to pray for her. They covered her up enough to be modest, and Fre Dolf and Noaz came in, along with her family that was there, those of us nurses that happened to be with her right then, and a few of the other workers from church. We had quite the little prayer service there, until Hans showed up with the machine and they had to leave. All of our patients out front helpfully attempted to lend assistance and pressed in close around the machine, and we all breathed a sigh of relief and a prayer when they were able to actually hit the trail. I was in the birthing room working on washing up about ten minutes later when I heard the crowd out front simply erupt with nearly ear-splitting noise, and as I walked toward the front I could begin to make out the individual cries of "Merci Jezi", "BonDye Bon", "Merci BonDye", and "Hallelujah". I could see the crowd of people who were swarming around in their excitement, their hands raised high in praise and thankfulness to BonDye. The husband of the woman had apparently called back to say that the baby had arrived, and all was well. Tears filled my eyes as my hands joined the others in praising a God who I know as good. So, so good.

Mom and Dad are currently in Austria at a clinic where Mom is receiving treatment. They are flying home for a few weeks on Monday, and plan to return to Austria again sometime after New Years for an additional five weeks of treatment. The clinic there has an excellent reputation, and came highly recommended, but even highly recommended and excellent reputation-ed people are still just that - people. Nothing more. So we continue to pray to the only one who can cure my mother's cancer. And we put our faith and trust in His heart. God knows....And He knows best. We're here for His glorification, wherever that takes us. Beauty from ashes. Shattered fragments of dreams and wishes, waiting to be pieced back together into a beautiful example of the goodness and faithfulness of our God. Broken Hallelujahs.

God is good.

Hallelujah.

-Kindra