A prayer to trust God's plan for us by Meg Bucker, read by Ellie Johnson.

He trains my hands for battle.

My arms can bend a bow of bronze, 1st Samuel 2-35.

Confession, I was laughed out of cheerleading tryouts.

It came down to a V that didn't look at all like a V.

I quickly labeled my hyper-extended elbows a weakness.

For a dancer, cheerleading was a natural next step. Like many awkward tweens, when I didn't make the cut, I felt a little

stunned, embarrassed, and lost. But I kept trying out for teams with varying success. Though my dad

helped coach my grade school basketball team I never took a shot in a game. While

attempting to serve at a tennis team tryout, my racket connected with the coach's head.

I assumed my dance background would make hurdles easy.

It did not.

But then, after I tumbled over one at my first track meet, my coach threw me in the 800 meter run.

When coached through gangly little chicken wing, the nickname my high school youth group so lovingly and accurately gave me,

into the 800 meter run, it lit a spark.

During a collegiate cross-country practice, I hit my knees and surrendered my life to Jesus Christ.

He trains my hands for battle. My arms can bend a bow of bronze.

A bow is a symbol of strength. Life battles us for our passions and threatens to steal victories written for us to claim.

When we start to mature in Christ, we begin to realize what we're supposed to fight for. He trains my hands for

battle. Yes, he does. In his own way, with the way he made me, he trained me. Each failed attempt at sports taught me a little bit about who I was, and

a lot about who I wasn't. Three years after that first 800 meter, I received an athletic

scholarship to attend my dream college.

...