Saturday I received a text. “I’m picking Wes up at 11:00.” I respond, “But we have a verbal agreement that you will come after church at 12:30.” “Well, I’m getting him at 11:00.” Two feelings fall into my chest. Anger. Fear. “Why is he doing this? He hasn’t fought me about time on Sunday’s since Wes was born. In fact, he’s never fought me on this. Why does he want to take him out of church all the sudden? This is not okay. What if Wes misses out on something? What if he eventually thinks its okay not to go to church because his dad doesn’t go? I hate this!” Anger. Fear. Anger. Fear. I have prayed more over the last 5 years (since having Wes) than I have ever prayed in my life. There is something about having children that brings you to your knees in ways that you haven’t done before. I am a mom, a single mom. I have learned over the years several deep truths and though it has been a hard road, I’ve come to rest in them. Truths are one thing, but believing those truths...