Charles Dickens opened up "A Tale of Two Cities" with those most familiar words (I need to read that one again--one of the first books I really loved and cried through)--wait a minute--he wrote those words when? 1850-ish? But aren't the best and worst of times NOW?
It has always been a weakness of mine to fear--fear what might happen if . . . or if . . . .but wouldn't it be awful if . . . etc. Unfortunately, I'm afraid I have passed this trait on to the sweetest of 6-year-olds, Eden. I have spent the last 3 full days trying to convince her that she shouldn't worry that she's going to get cancer and have to go live in heaven away from us (and also that her permanent teeth aren't going to fall out). Its heartbreaking. What does a mom do? We've tried to make her forget about it, explain it logically, or tried to ignore it, but those things don't work for long. Just like us BIG people, she needs to learn that there are things that are out of our control, and things that we can control--like how strong our testimonies are, how we treat people, and whether or not we choose to find hope and joy among the chaos. (Read about what has helped me the last few weeks here). But how can I teach this to her better?
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