Good excuses line my day but they don't get a blog done. So I'm on my front porch as the sun sets, enjoying a break in recent cold weather.
To my left, Eggs, my tabby cat, is on the prowl. Birds fly in and out, building a nest in the corner of our covered porch. And frogs serenade with an evening lullaby.
It's almost as if spring is really here.
Will the long winter give way to an easier time? I have no idea.
Blurred vision has me counting the days till I can get necessary eye drops. Ankle pain forced me to put my post surgical boot back on. But I think the UTI is better. So if I hadn't just sliced the side of my thumb with a serrated knife, I might feel like I was gaining momentum.
Don tried to convince me to peel back the thick, loose piece of skin and run the open wound under some water. But I told him he was crazy. Right or wrong, I'm choosing confidence that antibiotic ointment will permeate the epidermis and maybe even the dermis layers of skin.
And if not, a small piece of a cinnamon crunch bagel from Panera Bread may take root. And that can't be all bad.
While life has continued to spin out of control, I've been thinking a lot about Paul's words, "I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties..." (2 Corinthians 12: 10 NIV).
Why delight in them?
"For when I am weak, then I am strong" (2 Corinthians 12: 10 NIV).
I well remember the years I spent waking to smiling toddlers while their father battled a brain tumor.
I often faced the day, heavy with fear. But not Nathan and Sam. They woke with sleepy smiles and trusting hearts. Unable to comprehend the burden we carried, they opened their eyes ready for food and fun.
When I met their simple joy with a dose of my own, our day went well. But when the "worries of this life" and the "desires for other things" dampened my mood, it often impacted theirs. (Mark 4: 19 NIV)
I can still see their sparkling eyes and mischievous grins as breakfast got underway. Fully expectant that their needs would be met, they simply worried not.
My how growing up changes that.
I have goals I'd like to achieve. Things I want to do. But could it be that waking each day with the heart of a child matters more to the Savior of my soul than anything else?
When I can't muster up the strength to go, when my weakness requires His strength, then perhaps I should stop trying so hard and simply rest in His provision, His goodness, His promises, and His love.
The heart of a child knows how to do this well.
Does yours?
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