It’s Monday, and I’m hopeful. Weekends have a way of recharging the batteries. I’ve got a new perspective. Sometimes I get bogged down in trying to do it all. I need to pick up the house. The kids wish I hung out at home more. Time to write? Sure, let me just clone myself…
But then, a light breaks through. We engaged in an Uno tournament. Zac entertained us with horrible puns and riffs on current events.
“Harambe was a martyr,” he stated, straight-faced.
Ruby came in from a trip to the store and walked over to me.
“Hi, Mom,” she said, hugging my neck. I tried not to tear up. More, please!
I planned a long run for Saturday. The rain poured down all Friday night. I got up and it was still going. I think I prayed something like, “Hey, God, I know you need to water. But maybe around 6:30 or so you could turn it off for a couple of hours? Oh, and the Oyster Shuck ‘N Share race starts at 8:00. So maybe resume the downpour at 9:00ish?”
I ate breakfast, listening to the waterfall from the sky. I did some chores. I stretched and let the food settle. As I stepped outside to start the run, I realized the clouds had drifted higher. The only dripping came from the soggy trees. I had to laugh. Thanks, God! And the sunrise that morning. glowing red and pink embers, felt like an early morning postcard.
There’s a great mystery to God’s working in the universe. I can’t see much, but I love the glimpses. And I’m grateful.