L.M. Montgomery wrote that to despair is to turn one's back on God. I've often wondered at her etymology when despair is the root word of desperation.

Because I prayed in absolute desperation last December, pulled over on the side of the road, sobbing, frustrated and broken, selfish and unbecoming. God. God. God. Do what you will with me, but please let me look different than how I look right now. Let my heart be broken, let my will be conformed, let my mouth proclaim, whatever you will -- but let it be something other than my present state. I cried, God let me be a testimony of blessing, let me be a testimony of faithfulness, let me be a testimony of anything, just not a testimony of grace. I was, frankly, done with the testimony of grace process.

Because becoming a testimony of grace means having to endure horrible things. There is no easy route to displaying the grace of God on one's life. I was tired of the endurance and ready for the fruit -- and not seeing it come any time soon. A few days after the car incident, once again, in a near state of despair, the Lord answered me again. One year. He said. That's it. One year.

Today, in the car, I remembered those words. And looked at the path my feet seem to be taking. Thought of where they might be in nine months. Thought of how faithful the Lord has been, even when I demanded he remove the blessing of grace that He's given, He answered to stay the course and trust that He would alter the course of my desperation.

Today my prayer was different. Today my desperate prayer was something like this: God, you are faith enough. God you are love enough. God you are grace enough. God you are enough.

Montgomery was wrong, I looked it up. Despair: To lose all hope.

Even if I have lost my hope, I have not lost my God. And He alone is enough.