Matt told me to write this blog post.
“Tell them about when I leave for India on Saturday and how you’re going to be happy and okay.”
Thirteen days, you guys. He’s going to be on the other side of the planet for 13 days, preaching and teaching the Bible and doing some counseling among the Wagori people there.
But what about me? (She said in her best juvenile tone.) What about me all left behind here in Kalispell without my best friend in the whole world?
“You’ve got this,” he told me at the airport, after my eyes welled up with tears.
“I don’t got this,” I said. Sad, pouty face.
He reached out into thin air and grabbed something with his two fingers. “Oh look. Here it is. You must have dropped it.”
Tears until I got to the truck, but then I dried my eyes and thought about how I was going to live for 13 days. LIVE.
The day before Matt flew out, I sat through a long funeral for a 31-year-old young man who went to be with Jesus sooner than anyone in the room was ready for. How am I going to live my life? I thought. Really live.
So Matt started his long journey from Kalispell to Chicago to Munich to Mumbai. While he sat cramped into an economy seat, I went to church and sang.
Great is Thy faithfulness.
Great is Thy Faithfulness.
Morning by morning new mercies I see;
All I have needed Thy hand hath provided –
Great is Thy faithfulness, Lord, unto me.
Thirteen mornings will Matt be gone, and that will be 13 mornings when God will be waiting by my coffee pot, to give me new mercy, everything I need, and his faithfulness.
I’ve got this.
Thirteen mornings to be happy while Matt’s away.
Maybe you dropped your happy and can’t seem to find it anywhere. This is a good day to grab onto God’s mercy, provision, and faithfulness. It’s always fresh. Probably you should hum Great Is Thy Faithfulness while you put creamer in your coffee.