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| This little rascal from two houses down appeared in our yard last Monday. |
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| This was last Wednesday's demo. |
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| Thursday and Saturday mornings, my computer was not a happy camper. This lovely pattern apparently means the motherboard is failing. |
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| The extra hole in our garage ceiling a worker made when he fell through. He's fine, thanks be to God! |
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| A very happy unexpected: record-low high temperatures in July |
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| Part one of shower repair. Our 4-year-old neighbor, on seeing this, said, "Who broke your shower?" |
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| See that crack, just left of middle? That shouldn't be there. |
The best word I know to describe the last 10 days is "discombobulated." From the tiny (4 pounds, I'd guess) interruption of a neighbor's dog, whose name I do not know, suddenly appearing in our garden and refusing to go home, to the middle-sized disruption of a terminally ill computer, to the bigger upset of major home repairs, life has been. . . irregular here lately. The toilet from the master bath is in a trash bag in the bedroom. Half a shower sits in the garage under the hole in the ceiling, which needs to be repaired a second time.
Noise, strangers in and out of the house all day long, and what have seemed constant, urgent decisions from breakfast through bedtime, are not my comfort zone. At one point, in reply to a sister's text, I said it was Crazytown here. She is in her own season at that address, so she understands.
(In the midst of my discombobulation, it is not lost on me that all the issues that have arisen are, in my husband's phrase, "first-world problems." We have shelter, safe drinking water, and ample food. Our families love us. We have a house and Kindle full of books and the education necessary to read them. All those things make us among the richest people in the world. That puts the recent challenges in perspective for me.)
Yesterday morning, the Lord reminded me of the hymn I've been pondering since one line bubbled to the surface of my mind a couple of weeks ago, "Praise to the Lord, the Almighty." This seventeenth-century text, translated into English by Catherine Winkworth 150 years ago, appeared regularly in the order of worship at the church where I grew up. The churches of my adulthood have not often (or at all?) sung it, but music has a way of embedding texts deep in our memory banks, doesn't it?
The entirety of this hymn merits the time to read and respond in worship, but here is the first verse which specifically came to my mind:
Yesterday, however, all I needed was the first line. "The Lord, the Almighty, the King of creation." No matter how chaotic my circumstances may feel or appear, no matter how out of control, no matter how high the waves around my boat may rise, I have not discovered the one bit of creation exempt from God's reign. If I move to Crazytown, He's the mayor. More accurately, He's the monarch. He provides sufficient grace for the discombobulated. When I collapse on Him in faith, He brings peace even to Crazytown.
Today brought positive news on the plumbing part of our repairs. Even better, it brought 2 hours of quiet solitude with no workers, decisions, or phone calls. What luxury! They have returned now, but before another disruption arose I wanted to stop by here to visit with you.
It wouldn't surprise me if someone else reading this needs the same reminder I did. Crumble, if it feels like you too are living in Crazytown, please take heart in the knowledge that the Lord, the Almighty, reigns as King there. He delights to come to the aid of those who call on Him. "All ye who hear, now to His temple draw near;/ Praise Him in glad adoration."
May He bring peace into your chaos, love into your conflict, provision into your need, and salvation in every way you want deliverance, through His Son Jesus Christ. Amen.
Noise, strangers in and out of the house all day long, and what have seemed constant, urgent decisions from breakfast through bedtime, are not my comfort zone. At one point, in reply to a sister's text, I said it was Crazytown here. She is in her own season at that address, so she understands.
(In the midst of my discombobulation, it is not lost on me that all the issues that have arisen are, in my husband's phrase, "first-world problems." We have shelter, safe drinking water, and ample food. Our families love us. We have a house and Kindle full of books and the education necessary to read them. All those things make us among the richest people in the world. That puts the recent challenges in perspective for me.)
Yesterday morning, the Lord reminded me of the hymn I've been pondering since one line bubbled to the surface of my mind a couple of weeks ago, "Praise to the Lord, the Almighty." This seventeenth-century text, translated into English by Catherine Winkworth 150 years ago, appeared regularly in the order of worship at the church where I grew up. The churches of my adulthood have not often (or at all?) sung it, but music has a way of embedding texts deep in our memory banks, doesn't it?
The entirety of this hymn merits the time to read and respond in worship, but here is the first verse which specifically came to my mind:
Praise to the Lord, the Almighty, the King of creation!Initially, the second line attracted my focused attention. "He is thy health." For someone with chronic health problems, that brings profound encouragement and reorients perspective.
O my soul, praise Him, for He is thy health and salvation!
All ye who hear, now to His temple draw near;
Praise Him in glad adoration.
Yesterday, however, all I needed was the first line. "The Lord, the Almighty, the King of creation." No matter how chaotic my circumstances may feel or appear, no matter how out of control, no matter how high the waves around my boat may rise, I have not discovered the one bit of creation exempt from God's reign. If I move to Crazytown, He's the mayor. More accurately, He's the monarch. He provides sufficient grace for the discombobulated. When I collapse on Him in faith, He brings peace even to Crazytown.
Today brought positive news on the plumbing part of our repairs. Even better, it brought 2 hours of quiet solitude with no workers, decisions, or phone calls. What luxury! They have returned now, but before another disruption arose I wanted to stop by here to visit with you.
It wouldn't surprise me if someone else reading this needs the same reminder I did. Crumble, if it feels like you too are living in Crazytown, please take heart in the knowledge that the Lord, the Almighty, reigns as King there. He delights to come to the aid of those who call on Him. "All ye who hear, now to His temple draw near;/ Praise Him in glad adoration."
May He bring peace into your chaos, love into your conflict, provision into your need, and salvation in every way you want deliverance, through His Son Jesus Christ. Amen.
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Without numbers, here are a few reasons I thank Him:
His sovereignty
true health in Him
salvation through Jesus
praise
old hymns that still speak
provision of our needs
Amore shopping for, purchasing, and setting up a new computer for me
my vigilant watchdog making sure I'm safe
visits from our young neighbor almost daily
safety for all the workers so far, even when one fell through the ceiling of the garage onto the concrete floor
surviving 7 hours on a July afternoon without air conditioner
a "restorative niche" this morning when badly needed
blissfully cool, wet Monday
seasoned friendships
gifts well-received
escapes to the pool in the afternoons
happy anticipation of my side of the family gathering Saturday for the youngest member's birthday
