Small Word, Big Meaning.

Why has been the question I have been habitually asking myself this week. You don't realize how big a three letter word means until something horrible happens. I got a call the other night to find out that one of my dear friends, whose named happens to be Erin as well, has a tumor along her spinal cord that has been growing without her knowledge for the past six months. Why does a 21 year old nursing student deserve this? Why does God put circumstances in our life that our unpleasantly inconvenient for us? Why do we have to have sorrow in our lives? WHY? After aimlessly asking myself these and many more questions over the past 24 hours, I decided to look into it deeper.

On my way home from work this afternoon my Nano was on shuffle mode. Selah started singing There is a Fountain. SIDE NOTE: If you haven't heard Selah, or seen them in concert it is literally a religious experience. At that very moment I finally realized that God's plans are different from our's and he puts things in our lives for our own reality check. Boom. What a miraculous realization. A few tears roiled down my cheek from my selfishness.

The song, as always, brought goosebumps to me. I still remember my grandfather singing it to me when I was younger, however at 4 all you comprehend is that "Jesus Loves the Little Children" and don't understand about a fountain that washes all your sins away.

Erin is constantly in my prayers, which I believe is the strongest medicine possible. We both know that our God is sovereign, and will guide her swiftly through her surgery on September 12th.

There is a fountain filled with blood drawn from Emmanuel’s veins;
And sinners plunged beneath that flood lose all their guilty stains.
Lose all their guilty stains, lose all their guilty stains;
And sinners plunged beneath that flood lose all their guilty stains.

The dying thief rejoiced to see that fountain in his day;
And there have I, though vile as he, washed all my sins away.
Washed all my sins away, washed all my sins away;
And there have I, though vile as he, washed all my sins away.

Dear dying Lamb, Thy precious blood shall never lose its power
Till all the ransomed church of God be saved, to sin no more.
Be saved, to sin no more, be saved, to sin no more;
Till all the ransomed church of God be saved, to sin no more.

E’er since, by faith, I saw the stream Thy flowing wounds supply,
Redeeming love has been my theme, and shall be till I die.
And shall be till I die, and shall be till I die;
Redeeming love has been my theme, and shall be till I die.

Then in a nobler, sweeter song, I’ll sing Thy power to save,
When this poor lisping, stammering tongue lies silent in the grave.
Lies silent in the grave, lies silent in the grave;
When this poor lisping, stammering tongue lies silent in the grave.

Lord, I believe Thou hast prepared, unworthy though I be,
For me a blood bought free reward, a golden harp for me!
’Tis strung and tuned for endless years, and formed by power divine,
To sound in God the Father’s ears no other name but Thine.