Monday, November 5, 2007

Eleven o’clock. I’m sitting in the shower detangling my too long hair, and the threads of my too active emotions. This constant up-down-up-down is beginning to make me feel seasick. I would determine to become steadied and dependable, if I thought it would be worthwhile.

I feel like Papa just gave me a hundred dollar gift. Actually, his bumper was delivered today, and when I reported to him the price he said he’d pay half. “After all,” he added, “I am at least half responsible.” I’d already budgeted the loss, and been thankful that I would still have some left over.

I feel like a grateful, groveling criminal, the way I was judging him and his actions, feeling frustrated, beaten and bruised over that and several other things, and I said so. In two words: “Thank you.”

Someday I will master this tricky art of communication. I don’t have a problem prattling on and on and on about unimportant things, but when my heart is full of the beautiful and thankfulness, I’m overwhelmed and speechless.

And that’s not all.

After Satan’s brutal attack yesterday, the Lord has reaffirmed, rebuilt and strengthened.

“You’re a failure,” he whispered. “Folks are already beginning to forget about you. Your father doesn’t understand you and doesn’t care. You can’t finish anything he gives you to do, or even the tasks you’ve laid out for yourself! You can’t keep your heart pure, either! You’re too afraid to obey and share your faith. And look! You can’t control your emotions. Now you’re blubbering like a baby.”

Up at five, this morning, with some good Bible study again, at last, and the day dawned beautifully. It continued to be productive with exercise following clean-up, finally finishing painting my bathroom and getting it back in order, putting the last coat of urethane on my bed. A hard outside job finished nicely. A delicious supper on promptly. Not only did Papa surprise me by sharing the bumper cost, but he also seemed super patient when we went over the tasks we’d done.

All of this on the heels of my whining, my self-centeredness and foolish succumbing to Satan’s “me” lies.

The Lord is too kind.

Lord, I often overlook

The promises within Thy book,

And often fail to see Thy grace

When straining just to see Thy face.

Thy face I’ll see one day and live

But every day that Thou dost give

I see Thy promises hold true

In Thy compassions, ever new.

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