You know those days. They start with someone screaming you out of your sleep...which wouldn't be as bad if there were a real problem and not just a desire for night-night music to be turned on... at 6 a.m. Yes, he's still alive.
Heaven help me, but I was in a funk today, partly due to my wake-up call. My brain was in permanent coast mode, my body set on super slow. How the boys lived through the morning is beyond me. I vaguely remember doing puzzles, cleaning up breakfast, making lunch, and scrubbing the cemented banana off my kitchen floor; but that's about all I've got.
But then my mailman left this in my box.
We had left a note to our postman saying the same thing (along with some pumpkin bread... I have trouble wasting my time with any other kind.). And in the midst of his drizzly delivery day, he stopped to say thank you. And it lifted my heart. I came into the garage with the note, and checked on the laundry. Washer empty. Dryer full of wet clothes. Huh??? Must check breaker box. Breaker off. Can't get it on. What's that smell?
Now normally in my house that question can be answered by sniffing the baby's bottom, but this was different. I smelled gas. Near the furnace. Our poor handyman. I call him about all kinds of things, and he always has grace for me. He told me to spray super sudsy water all over the joints of the pipe to see if any of it bubbled. And, boy, oh boy, did we have a few bubbles. It was a small leak. He came and fixed it as soon as he could. And we had the opportunity to say thanks... both to our patient handyman and to God. Because if the breaker hadn't switched, I wouldn't have smelled the gas (I had to be super close.); and if I hadn't smelled the gas, it may have come up another day under different circumstances. So we give thanks.
Thanks for a dryer that caused a breaker to flip. Thanks for the leak being right in front of the breaker box. Thanks for my way over-sensitive nose that normally just gets me in trouble. Thanks for a handyman who serves us even after he's had a hard day. Thanks for friends who let us crash at their place while we wait because I don't know much about gas but I do know it's dangerous and makes me nervous. Thanks for their little boys who made my little men giggle and smile and watch way too much Thomas television. Thanks for a husband who rushes home to make sure I'm not juggling this all alone.
Yet the day isn't over. Teacher Man had a meeting. I hate meeting evenings. It's not that I don't believe in the causes we support with our time; it's just that I'm a jealous wife. Jealous for my man's time and attention. Oh... and I hate juggling the cranky children solo right before bed. I don't know where they get their moodiness...
Teacher Man leaves, and I'm sad. Then the phone rings. Grandpa isn't doing well. He's being prepped for emergency surgery. This recovery will be long and difficult. Surgery could last 4 hours. My mother is hundreds of miles away from me so she can sit at his bedside. Sit and pray. I want to jump in my chariot (which could be mistaken for a minivan) and drive to sit by her and support her, but I can't. My babes are sleeping, Teacher Man is working tomorrow, and there is really nothing my presence can do. So I sit and pray. Because really is there anything else more powerful?
Pray for the surgeon's hands to be filled with skill, for his mind to be given understanding. I pray for my grandpa. For the peace of God in surgery. For the encouragement of his heart in recovery. And I pray for my mom and her brothers. For a peace that passes understanding. For comfort. For faith in the Sovereign God Who stands at the helm through all this. And I give thanks. again.
Thanks that my mother has two brothers. Thanks that my grandpa was still in the hospital when they discovered his complications. Thanks that they caught it early. Thanks for the years of farming that strengthened his body. Thanks that he has always rested in the hands of his Creator... I must give thanks. And in giving thanks, a peace washes over me because I rest in the same Hands.
In every thing, by prayer and petition with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God, and the peace of God which passes all understanding will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.
Last I heard, he's still in surgery. Would you lift us up tonight? I'd be ever so thankful.