This is my story. This is my song.

Earlier this year, my life was drastically changed. After less than six months at my first big girl job (the one I'd been promised since before I graduated from grad school in May), I was "suspended". It's a long complicated (and ridiculously stupid) story, but suffice it to say: IT WAS TERRIBLE. Those were the longest two weeks of my life. I had no idea if I had a job to go back to. I knew I'd done nothing wrong. Nothing made sense. I spent two weeks at my Mom's house, clutching her hand and sobbing like a baby. She has told me that I did and said things that I don't remember at all. I was angry, hurt, betrayed, not to mention royally screwed over. Thankfully, I'm back at work and the circumstances are drastically different, but so much better.

A few nights after I'd been back at work, I woke in the middle of the night, and I asked God to deliver me from anger. I don't think it's the last step, but I know it was an extremely important one. I had been forced to deal with so much anger. Anger at my life, my situation, even my God. I have a switch, and Satan had accessed it. I can be flipped from holy to horrendous in about three seconds, and I do not want to live like that!

On a Friday morning, life was good. Not perfect, but good. Tolerable. By Friday night, I wanted to die. As I paced back in forth in my house, recounting every wrong done to me and all of my reasons for rage, God grabbed me by the hand and whispered, "Never forget this feeling."

There is a self-righteous high that comes over me when I succumb to that my-anger-is-completely-justified mindset in the middle of my rage. I plan my brutal (but necessary) tongue lashing knowing I can slice through thick skin when I aim to. My heart races, boiling my blood. My neck and shoulders stiffen and my head begins to pound. But this time, God spoke loudly enough to be heard over the volume of my anger.

"This feeling? It's not from Me."

And I responded with an, "Uhh, oh . . . . well, duh!"

The world loves to rile us over what we "deserve" and what we are "entitled" to have. Make no mistake, though; the heroes of faith knew that God was enough. We are in the world, but it's our God who made it... He has access to every dollar, every resource, every good thing.

I was recently reading a devotional, and I read seven life-changing words: "Do you trust God to defend you?" Light bulb: on!

And I realized two things right then and there: One, no, I absolutely did not trust God like I thought I did. And two, that I truly, from the depths of my soul, wanted to get there.

God, my strength, I am looking to you, because God is my defender.

This is my story. This is my song.

Praising my Savior...all the day long.