Even This: Getting to the Place Where You Can Trust God with Anything

Even This: Getting to the Place Where You Can Trust God with Anything

by Emily Belle Freeman

Paperback(First Edition)

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Even This invites readers to make room for daily personal experiences with God. From the very first page readers will walk down a spiritual path meant to remind each of us that God will meet us in the unexpected, bringing His goodness, giving us cause to trust, reminding us of His capacity. Filled with deeply personal stories about holding onto belief, daring to trust, and longing for understanding, Even This chronicles one woman's quest to find God in the everyday moments-with one of the most powerful experiences taking place as she searches for sea shells while walking on the beach-and provides many opportunities for individual introspection. "Yes, God is good and He can be trusted," Freeman concludes, "and it is the daily discovery of these truths that has the potential to become the greatest journey of a life and lead us closer to Him."

Ultimately, the author hopes Even This will encourage and motivate readers to:
  • Stop letting fear dictate the depth of your belief through simple daily reflections that will restore your confidence in God.
  • Let go of your need to control by discovering what is holding you back from being completely vulnerable in your relationship with God.
  • Diminish the power of doubt by coming to understand why the place of deepest asking is where the believing begins.
  • Learn how to trust that God may have something entirely different in mind than you could ever anticipate--something better.

Product Details

ISBN-13: 9781629723389
Publisher: Shadow Mountain Publishing
Publication date: 09/05/2017
Edition description: First Edition
Pages: 176
Sales rank: 318,725
Product dimensions: 5.40(w) x 8.40(h) x 0.60(d)
Age Range: 18 Years

About the Author

Emily Belle Freeman is a popular inspirational speaker. She co-authors a blog about putting faith into everyday acts at www.multiplygoodness.com. She is a wife and mother of four.

Read an Excerpt

Maybe some people picture their wedding day in vivid detail. The memory I remember most from those first days actually took place at two in the morning in a dark hospital room.

It was after the surgery to remove the tumor, after Greg's mother and father left to go home. After the last doctor walked out and the pain meds were administered. After making the decision to spend the night at the hospital because I didn't want to go home alone. That's when it all finally hit. It was years ago, before there were comfortable sofas in hospital rooms, and I remember it as if it were yesterday.


I pull the orange plastic chair over to the hospital bed and reach under the stiff white sheet to find the warmth of Greg's hand. In that moment, I hold on to all that is familiar; I hold desperately to the dreams I used to know. The monitor beats a steady rhythm as I lay my head down on the rough green blanket. I wonder if those dreams will have to change now. Change is never easy, but this change, this unexpected change to my happily ever after, echoes through the corners of my heart. Is twenty years enough to prepare someone for this much uncertainty? Because I don't feel prepared for this. The loneliness frightens me. I am alone in this. It's dark, and Greg's parents have driven home, and my parents live hundreds of miles away, and Greg is here, but he is sedated. I am alone.

I see soft light flooding in under the door and I focus there, on the truth that all is not dark. I try to remember that. But there, in that dark moment, the tears start to fall. There is no one to talk to, cry to, lean on, and so I pray. I talk to God and I tell Him I am frightened, I am too young for this, I am alone in this. I am alone. There, leaning over the hospital bed, clutching the hand of my new husband, I weep. And in the silent stillness of it all, an intense feeling of love fills the room and a whisper of words settles into my soul. It is a thread of scriptures I have read a hundred times, pieced together, meant to mend what is broken in my heart. I want to write the words down. I reach for the paperback book sitting on the small table and try to find a pen. I hold on to the words as I search-I don't want to forget them, the promise of them, so I whisper them out loud as I look. Finally, I find a pen, turn to the blank pages at the back of the newsprint book, and begin to write.

Early morning, January 1990
I can't describe this moment. It's almost as if I could reach out and touch the feeling in this room. For the first time I realize I've lived my whole life watching but never really seeing. Never knowing I was not alone. Maybe I never took the time to understand. Sometimes it has to hurt to make you strong, to make you realize how much you need God. I don't want to forget this. These words. His words. Draw near unto me and I will draw near unto you. My peace I give to you. Be still, and know that I am God.

The handwriting is scribbled, scattered across the pages, but the words won't be forgotten, and that is all that matters. For the first time I realize that I can turn to God with the real things, that I can trust Him with the hard things, with anything, even this. It is the first time I realize that God, who is infinite, can also be personal. For some reason, knowing that the Creator of the entire universe could be aware of a young, frightened girl in a dark hospital room strengthens my heart. I carry those whispered words as the healing days turn into weeks and then into months, until finally it is over and Greg is well and life begins to move forward again.


You wonder why that memory is more vivid than my wedding day. Perhaps it is because that experience, there in that dark hospital room, was the first time I had ever met God in an intimate space. It was the first time I had let myself be vulnerable with Him. The rawness led me to experience His realness. In that moment I felt His goodness.

Maybe there was a first time for you. Maybe you hold on to the memory of it just like I do.

Table of Contents

Until the Story Is Your Own 1

Section 1 Believing He Can

Discovering God's Goodness 5

Tethered 11

The Other Calf 17

To Believe 23

The Crystal Vase 27

The Place of Deepest Asking 33

Section 2 Trusting He Will

Falling 37

Alone in This 41

We Can't Make It Out of This 47

A Prayer for Protection 53

The God I Believe In 55

The End of the Story 61

Taking the Yoke 65

Where Was God? 69

Keeping God at Arm's Length 77

Section 3 Understanding Why Sometimes He Doesn't

Making Sense of the Holes 81

A Miracle in the Making 85

Out of My Comfort Zone 91

The Place I Didn't Want to Go 95

Longing for Understanding 101

The Sand Dollar 105

What Do You Need God to Be? 111

The Waiting Place 115

The Next Right Step 117

The Understanding 125

He Forgets Not His Own 127

The Journal 131

Acknowledgments 167

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