Somehow she knew, that sweet Girl of mine.

My heart has been heavy, with the sadness of our sick puppy and the loss of our one and a half month old calf, exactly one week ago today. We don’t know why he died, just found him by the creek bank. His mama bawled off and on all that day, as if trying to rally him back to life. My heart broke for her.

So I’ve carried the weight of heaviness these past days. And admittedly, I fret much too often — forgetting to pray to my Father.
O me of so little faith.

But I see the stain of sin and imperfection on this world. It’s not as it should be, after all. Not as God intended.
What if my petitions don’t turn out as I hope? What then? Like many, I know well that the answer isn’t always what we desire — that “yes,” the “no,” the “not now.”
And so I often cry — though I believe my Father cries much more than me.

When I awoke this morning, my heart was still a little heavy, though I hadn’t received the “bad news” call in the night as I’d silently feared.
After trying for the third time to get Allie up for school, I found that I was barking orders rather than speaking to my sleepy Girl in a tender manner.
(I so despise the sound of my irritated self.)

I was downstairs ironing Bill’s work clothes when I heard Allie in the kitchen. Then…
“Momma, come here.”

I wasn’t finished, so I sort of snapped my reply, “No, Allie, not now. I’m not finished.”

“Oh, please,” she pleaded. “Please come.”

And then, there she was in the laundry room, her hand held out.
“Come, Momma. Come quick.”

I sort of rolled my eyes, but I stopped and obeyed. Taking her hand, Allie guided me to the kitchen. “Don’t peek,” she said, so I kind of stumbled ahead in faith.

She opened the door to the deck and carefully guided me over the threshold.
“Now,” she said. “Look.”

Again, I obeyed, opening my eyes.

The morning sky was awash in pink as rain drops fell on the pond, tears from heaven.

I stood staring, then turned to my beaming Girl.
“Oh, thank you, Allie,” I cried. “It’s so beautiful.”

“Yes,” she said…


And we shared the beauty a moment more — taking in the new day… all because I’d reluctantly said “yes” and took her hand.
She knew best, after all.

Had I said “no” or “not now,” the course of my day would have been altered. I’d have missed the beauty.
The right answer — the only answer — that would lead me to that moment was…

She knew, my Girl.
And so does my God.

Lord, that I would more quickly take Your hand — no matter what the answer, the outcome. Because You always lead me to Beautiful.