I was tired, I was exhausted, and they dare ask me to sign a paper that would declare my willingness to die to something I did not feel strong enough to battle!!! My whole flesh rebelled as I wrote that yes on the paper. My spirit agreed with the declaration, my flesh stood back in fear and dread. The truth was that I was scared. I was scared of entrusting my Father with my family, my reputation, my finances, my life. I didn't trust. In that moment, I knew. I knew that as many times as I said I trusted I really hadn't, and as I wrote that yes I crossed the Rubicon and my flesh screamed in agony. Each letter was a choice to die and as I wrote each one I could hear Him say over and over and over again, "Let it go, Beloved, let it go." It was not an easy battle, it was but a step up the mountain I will be traveling until I reach heaven's door, but even the months of dying before this did not make this next step any easier. Daily dyings never are. That evening came on the tail of the longest day I had experienced (as recorded in my above entry) and I was not in the most rational or holy mood as I struggled with my flesh. I was tired and weary, and seeing my heart balk at trusting my Father was just salt on an already gaping wound. As He knocked my crutches away that day, I can now say that it was a milestone in my walk of faith. It compelled me into the arms of my Beloved, and had me exam my heart's weaknesses and the root of most of my troubles with an honest, although hesitant, eye. But as I stepped off the edge during the night, the morning brought such sweet assurance and birthed such joy in trust with the sunrise. As I began to discover the concept of rest, so was I discovering the essential of trust. Trusting Him with my everything that never really was mine to begin with. Places that I did not even knew I could control I began to fear to lose my grip on. But as He slowly loosened my clenched hands, I quickly began to realize the grace and strength in those very hands, and willingly fell into the arms of grace I did not know were so deep, so easy, so strong. My spirit is slowly learning these lessons, and as I take each step with this cross, each stumble towards my death, and towards that  "hope in which I [we] were saved" I learn that I am not capable of walking that road, but He, He is and in that strength I can lean as I watch Him do the work I was never capable of doing. Covering, washing that which I could never hide, try as I may. He is so good. And each day is but another revelation of His goodness, and I pray that I may have but the eyes to see that which is painted before me every day and worship Him the way He deserves to be worshipped.