A few weeks ago, while staying in a rented condo on vacation, it takes me a bit to get acclimated to the surroundings and sounds. While it was great to meet up with a friend so we could shop for several days, the night comes. I’m in the back bedroom and she is in the front bedroom near the outside door. I knew she went to bed and as I am lying
there in mine, I hear a screeching of a door. I look through the crack of my door to see if it was the front, outside door, while a panic within me freezes not knowing the what if. What if it is the door opening and somebody will enter. Fear.
As I look and try to talk through this situation, I look at the bedroom door and am reminded that there is a cross on the door. Trust Me. Once I realized we were in no danger, the deadbolt was on anyway, I remembered yet again how many times since a child that I have looked at the doors in our home and the Cross. Peace.
The Cross will bring peace to a troubled soul and with 
fear as it has done all of my life. I love that the six-paneled doors, I see a Cross. I was telling my friend of the screeching sound and my panic mode. She had never noticed the Cross before. Bet she does now. You, too. (Cross and Bible)
As a child, I did not know God but knew enough to recognize the Cross and trust that He had His Hands upon my life.
I need Him in all areas of my life. We all do!
This morning while walking early, as I do often and watch the sun rise over the tree tops feeling the crisp, cool air while I start my day, I often think and pray. Many days, I meet a friend and we walk together. As I was rounding the corner, hitting my first-mile marker, the thought and question came to me as to what is my motive in doing this. Where did that come from, I thought? Lord, what are you asking me with this question so I pondered it as I continued on walking.
As a child from a home that you just existed in with no real emotional support or touch, you (or I did) tend to reach out to anyone that will give that need, that mothering, direction, understanding, etc. It was my coping skills all through life of grasping love and attention. Now recognizing since being in her counseling sessions week after week, year after year, how could I not want her to be proud of me. I have spent more one-on-one time with her (well over 200 hours) than I have anyone, whether that be my own mother, siblings, or any family/friends to really know me.
Depression can wipe anyone out and while I knew I was in depression, I did not realize just how bad. Hanging on by a thread for years due to life situations, a dead marriage, other areas and at times a bad hair day.
While I spent many years with her, and that being many, long and hard sessions, it was worth it all. At times, some sessions were like a breath of fresh air but many were down right in the trench digging through the muck of my life and situations where I did not want to continue and just give up and die. Apparently, I did not give up nor did I die. I believe without a doubt that the Lord led me to her and in those four years, we covered a lot of ground.
Just Pondering... 