One of my favorite sandwiches is one that I get from a local restaurant. It is toasty warm filled with grilled chicken breast meat, sprinkled with crisp bacon, and topped with melted cheese. I don't have it very often because of my choice to eat right. But when I do have it, I know that I am in for a messy meal because the sandwich also has a creamy garlic sauce spread on it. Once everything gets all melted together, it becomes a gooey, yummy, slippery mass inside the bun. The only way that I can eat it and not wear it, is to smash the bread together making sure that the seam of the roll is facing down and take my bites from the side. It only took me three times eating this type of sandwich to realize how to do it the right way.
Well, right now, at this time in my life, I am the filling inside that sandwich and if I do not stay inside of the bun, I am going to ooze out all over the place. I am squeezed on top by the stress of dealing with my daughter. I am squeezed on bottom by the stress of dealing with my mother. And I am melted together with the stress of my fibromyalgia. So, what is keeping this sandwich life from falling apart? It is the strong hands of the LORD. If I just stay right where I belong, I am safe from falling all over the floor. Thank God for His strength....and for those yummy sandwiches.