When I visited Anne Frank's 'hiding place,' I looked out the attic window, the one Anne looked out of everyday, and saw the old chestnut tree.
All I could see was that old tree and the blue sky. Hope spilled from that tree. And so did faith that God was still in the world.
Looking out that window, reminded me He's always there spilling out hope. He's there in the good and wonderful times and He's there in the bad and awful.
Grateful today for my faith because with it, I can climb above all the tough stuff, the not so pretty, the sad times, and the confusing.
Every time I look up at the sky, or I wander in the woods, I get this amazing assurance, that He's there, working stuff out, reminding me not to be afraid. He's the one thing that never changes.
Happy Thursday, Guys.