HAPPY BIRTHDAY JESUS!

Nine.  9.  N-I-N-E.  A single digit.  That’s how many days it is until Christmas is here.  When someone tells you that the older you get, the faster time passes, BELIEVE them.  It is the truth.  Where has time gone?  The last few weeks, time and life seems to have overtaken me.  Busy, busy, busy.   I have no wrapped gifts under my tree.  I usually have it ALL done by now. 

My little Sunday School class of two and three year olds celebrated the season last Sunday with a “Happy Birthday, Jesus!” party and invited their parents to be our guests.  We had our regular routine of attendance star application, a time of getting rid of wiggles, a song (Happy birthday to you, dear Jesus), our prayer, lesson, gifts, food….just a fun Sunday School time.  These kids are such a blessing to me every Sunday morning.  Here’s a visual of our Sunday class time.

Tonight I was reflecting as I was writing a couple of last minute cards.  I chose to send these folks the same cards I sent to my Sunday School children—a card with characters from “A Charlie Brown Christmas”.  Let me tell you that there are a lot of things I love about Christmas—even when I’m busy.  There’s nothing sweeter than  children’s little voices singing “Away in a manger, no crib for a bed.  The little Lord Jesus lay down his sweet head…”  Jerks my tears every time.  Another thing that gets me is in the “Charlie Brown Christmas” when Charlie Brown (isn’t it funny that he’s never just Charlie, but always Charlie Brown?) asks “Doesn’t anyone know what Christmas is about?”  And then shepherd Linus begins to speak.  When he quotes the “Fear not, for behold I bring you good tidings of great joy which shall be to all people...for unto you is born this day in the city of David, a Savior which is Christ the Lord”,  I get all teary-eyed again.  Every.  Single.  Time. 

Each Sunday since Thanksgiving, I’ve taught my little class the Christmas story.  I figure with little ones, repetition is good and after all, it is Christmas.    Shucks, sometimes adults need repetition.  To help the story come alive, the past two Sundays I’ve used my child’s nativity.  The children "help" tell the story with "hands-on" experience.

As I put the Joseph and Mary in place in the stable, I thought about them as parents.  They both had to be somewhat scared, I would think.  But with the fear of the unknown and circumstances came trust in what the angel had said and what God had promised.  Youngsters they were.  Becoming parents to God’s own son.  Amazing.   I would think that when they were in that stable and Jesus was lying in that manger, there had to be such a spirit-filled warmth like no other.  The little Lord Jesus asleep on the hay. 

Then there were those shepherd guys out on the dark hillside.  Imagine their fear when the angel appeared and told them to “fear not”.   I always thought if I could choose someone to be in this story, it would be a shepherd.  Shepherds there on that hillside, probably poor, dirty, and tired.  Then all of a sudden getting the good news from angels that a Savior is born.  I love it that the shepherds were willing to “go and see” and then to “go and tell others”.   I’ve often said, though, that if I think about it, I have been like those shepherds because years ago as a child, I bowed at an altar and “found the Lord” and accepted him as MY Savior.  I know how those shepherds felt.  Joy.  Great joy that they found the Lord!

With my little class, we also use the wise men but I never think as much about them for one reason or another.  I do think of their gifts.  Costly gifts fit for a king.  Jesus only wants gifts of ourselves.  As I tell my little class, gifts of love, sharing, peace, joy…the list goes on and on.  And, too, I always remember that Jesus is THE gift and brings all those to us who love Him. 

The story of that first Christmas never gets old.  It’s new over and over again, be it December or the middle of July.   And as Linus says, “THAT'S what Christmas is all about!”

I say, "Amen"!

A BEARY GREAT TIME

A few weeks ago, The Husband and I took a short trip to the mountains of Tennessee.  Yes, the Great Smoky Mountains.  For the first time ever on a trip there, we rented a cabin  a short ways up a mountain in Wears Valley.  What a beautiful place!  Our cabin was comfortable and nice, too.

There was a pool table in the loft area.  The Husband and I enjoyed several games of pool.  Or at least we attempted to play several games of pool.  The Husband probably has been fairly successful at pool in the past and he was especially successful at pool on this trip, winning constantly.  I, on the other hand, might have picked up a pool pole maybe once in my lifetime.  I did find it rather fun, though.  I found it such fun that if I were in my young and foolish days, I might say we need a pool table.  However, now that I am old and wise, I’ll enjoy the memories.  

We enjoyed an early morning trip to Cades Cove.  The Husband and I DO love Cades Cove.  He enjoys the wildlife, I enjoy the photography.  Here are some samples of both.

The Husband and I were also able to meet the parents of The Balloon Friend (VBS, June 10, 2013 and Kindred Spirits, September 9, 2013) as it turned out they live and work a mile from our cabin.  That was such a nice meeting and they, like their sweet daughter, are lovely people.

On our return trip home, the route taken was over the mountains.  One can see why they are called the Great Smoky Mountains. 

Our route also took us via the Carolinas and these sights.

We stopped for a wonderful visit with a sweet friend and her husband.  We enjoyed a nice lunch at a good ‘ole boy restaurant  and visit with them.  The visit was even sweeter as it was the first time I had seen my friend since her cancer surgery and chemo.  She looked great, tired easily, but doing pretty well.  I thanked the Lord for that.  That time together was a joy and blessing.

I have saved the unforgettable “vacation” story until my post’s end.  The first day there, we received a call from the cabin realtor that our cabin was ready for us at 2 p.m.  Being a bit away from the cabin, we didn’t arrive there until about 3:15 p.m.  

We immediately noted that the trash can on the front porch was overturned.  The Husband uprighted it, and we unloaded the truck.  After we got inside, The Husband said, “I thought I might not tell you this, but decided maybe I will.  The trash bag inside the trash can was sort of shredded.  I think a bear might have turned it over.”  Well you can understand that I have enjoyed seeing bears on the side of the road of The Great Smoky Mountains in the past and I have enjoyed taking photos of them.  On the road.  From my car.  The thought that a bear might have turned over our trash can didn’t particularly make me warm and fuzzy.  Here’s a photo of the front porch, the front door, and the trash can.

The next morning we left for Cades Cove at 6:00 a.m.  Pitch darkness at 6:00 a.m. in The Great Smoky Mountains.  The Husband had backed the truck in the driveway which made my entrance to the truck on the opposite side of the cabin.  I told him I would not go around without a light.  There might be a bear.  He kind of did that “husband eye roll thing”….you girls know what I mean.   And you are thinking as you read this, “Oh no, there was a bear.”  Well no, luckily there was not a bear.  Or, at least I jumped in so quickly, I didn’t encounter it. 

We returned to the cabin around 2:00 p.m.  I sat in the rocker inside the den by the front porch window, The Husband reclined on the couch.  Watching television, of course, makes me sleepy along with the fact that I had rose very early for the 6 a.m. departure to Cades Cove.   And after all, it was a vacation. I said that I was going to lie down and take a nap.  As I got the bedroom, there was a noise from the porch and The Husband yelled, “Bear!”  There was a black bear at our trash can.  We both ran to the window, looked quickly and the bear scampered over the porch rail and headed down the side of the cabin.  Here’s a photo from the side window—it’s not very good as the camera flash kicked back, but you can see it.  The Husband said looked about 175-200 pounds. 

We hurried to the back deck which was safe but could not see the bear.  After looking again out the side window, we could see the animal trying the neighbor’s bear proof trash cans.  At this point, The Husband opened the door, peeked out to be sure the visitor had not brought friends and started to walk out into the cul-de-sac.   I told him to wait….”since you’re going out, take the camera”….duh.  One must prioritize.  We need a picture.  I quickly changed lenses so there would be the big one on the camera.  I stayed with my feet in the cabin.  If the bear ate The Husband and the camera, someone would need to call for help.  No need in all of us being eaten.  

Now keep in mind,  I take photos.  The Husband does not.  However, he did get another photo of the bear.  The bear was hanging on the outside of the deck rails on the neighbor’s cabin.  The bear was “walking” with his front paws on the deck rail, hanging on as he walked.  Then the bear dropped about 15’ to the ground and scampered off into the woods.  Here’s a photo…the bear is on the right side of the deck—the horizontal black blur you can see. I'm thinking if one could put a ranger hat on the bear, it would resemble "Smoky".  

So yes, another vacation to remember with memories of a different sort.  It was a "beary" great time!

ANOTHER SPECIAL DAY

Today is The Son-In-Law's birthday.  I feel that deserves some recognition, especially since I've recognized other special occasions of those in my "near" family during this blog year.

The Son-In-Law joined our family a year and a half ago.  He was found by The Girl in an unusual way but has proven yet again how beautifully the Lord provides if only we wait on Him.  (We just get antsy so often and want to help the Lord when He really has it ALL in His control.)

The Son-in-Law is a jewel.  He has a love of the Lord, a love of The Girl, and a love for others that is amazing.  When I would pray for a "match" for The Girl, I could never see a face; however, there were always things I hoped for such as one who would love the Lord with all his heart and be a spiritual leader for The Girl in the relationship....one who would love The Girl right up there under his love for the Lord and The Son-In-Law surely does that.  I prayed for one who would be able to live with diabetes, just as The Girl does.  And lastly, I prayed for one who would make The Girl happy.  God provided all those qualities and more in The Son-In-Law.

As for the benefits for me, I have learned the joy of wearing orange on occasion.  I look pretty good in orange.  I've also learned to readily speak "Tiger" language.....War Eagle!

I really don't feel like I have a son-in-law but I feel like the Lord has given me and The Husband a son--one that has blessed us beyond measure.  We couldn't have picked a better one ourselves and have grown to love him dearly.

So Happy Birthday to my sweet "Son"!

BLOOMS AND BUTTERFLIES

Fall has finally arrived in my neighborhood.  Thank goodness!  I, unlike many of you, do not have a love of hot weather.  I can't even wear turtlenecks anymore in the winter because I stay fairly consistently warm.  I guess there are worse things.

With the fall has come some photo opportunities for me.  Both fell in my lap quite accidentally but turned out to be some of the most enjoyable times of photo taking I've had lately.  The first set of photos was taken last month when it was still warm; however, the roses were taken just this week on Wednesday, a windy and cold day.  It was amazing to me such beautiful flowers could continue to grow in those weather conditions.  I'm sure there's a sermon there somewhere but for now, I'll just share the photos.  Enjoy!

PRAYERS AND PIANOS

Missed me?  I haven’t felt well for the past week or so.  Draggy.  Sick-feeling. Sleepy.  Not-so-perky. I just couldn’t quite put my finger on it.   After going to the doctor this afternoon, I discovered I had a nasty sinus infection and potentially a kidney stone still in my kidney.  (Maybe it will stay there quietly.)  At least I can look forward to recovery sooner than later now that I have medicines.  Can you believe that it has come to a time in this society when a person has to show an ID to get Mucinex DM at the store?  Really?  Sad.  What I was getting to with this story is that I have felt so not perky that I went immediately to sleep on the couch when my head hit the couch pillow and have just woken up.  And yes, now I have to get sleepy again.  I did not stagger off to the bed in my sleepy state as I would have liked but woke up wide awake and nauseous.  Since the other one who lives in my house is not wide awake and the house is very quiet, it seemed a good time for a blog post.

I spent my morning at the church while the piano tuner tuned two pianos there and then at The Girl’s house waiting while he tuned her piano.  I listened as the notes clinged and clanged during the tuning and eventually just kind of “tuned” them out, you know?  When the tuner is finished, he always begins to play to “test” his tuning skills.  Let me tell you, The Tuner can play the piano.  I mean REALLY PLAY the piano.  I just close my eyes and listen.  With my ears and my heart.  After he finished the first piano of the day, I began to look forward to his finishing the second.  And the third just so I could hear him play.  It was beautiful music to my ears.  I told The Tuner today that I could play like that.  In my dreams.  He chuckled. 

I am often reminded of my piano playing history and thought it might a good time to share that story.  As you all know if you are a regular blog reader, I am a PK (Preacher’s Kid).  When I was nine years old, the church where my daddy pastored lacked a pianist.  My daddy bought a piano for our house—maybe he paid $75 for it which back then was a large amount to pay for anyone but especially for us who were not rich.  Just in case you wondered, we still are not rich.  It was an old, very large piano and I was quite taken with it.  I’m sure that my being quite taken with it was a result of prayers my daddy prayed that the Lord would provide a piano player for the church.  Really.  I kid you not.  Ask my daddy.  My mother purchased me a Thompson-learn-to-play-the-piano book.  It had pictures of the piano keys along with where to put your fingers for that particular key along with the lines and key signature.  In the meantime, I sat and played that piano a lot.  With one finger.  I learned that I could actually play church songs.  With one finger.  Then I got smarter and learned that if I looked in the old Red Back Church Hymnal with shaped notes and found a song that had the same key signature as that particular page in the Thompson book and if I played those shapes of notes, it worked.  I would tape the shapes on the correct keys of the piano either with Scotch tape and paper or masking tape.  I kid you not.  Those piano keys with those hand written taped on note shapes were unusual to say the least.   I learned to play just that way.  You might think I was pretty smart as that sounds very hard.  I will tell you that I loved it but most of all it worked because my daddy prayed.  And when my daddy prayed, the Lord provided.  I could go on and on but will tell that as I learned all the key signatures I could and applied them from that Red Back Church Hymnal, my musical ear got to working with it,  and I learned to move my left hand in time with the music.  That little church with no pianist began to sing with my piano music.  Granted we sang the same song or two every Sunday until I learned more.  I can’t say for sure, but I imagine my daddy was smiling the whole service.  Remember?  He prayed.  The Lord provided a need for that particular time in life that has continued to be a joy to me even now.

Close to 50 years later, I still can’t read round notes on lines and spaces. I need squares, diamonds, triangles, and circles.  I can’t count time.  It amazes me that The Girl and others can play the piano by reading all the round notes that sit on different lines and counts the time and knows all about music.  I will say that when The Girl began to “play by ear” at age five, I put her in private piano lessons so she, unlike her mother, would know what she was doing.  And she can play beautifully whether she reads the notes or if she plays by ear.  I would like to think she got that talent from her mother’s side of the family.  I try to imagine how it would be for her if her mother had prayed like her granddaddy prayed.  I can transpose and play songs that I do know in whatever key you want as long as it’s not over five “b’s” or more than one “#”--pound sign.    I can play the organ choir music that is all round notes and looks the same to me  by ear.  I just look like I know what I’m doing and no one is the wiser.  Until now.    Admittedly, my mind works a lot slower now than it did when I was nine so some days it’s a challenge. 

That’s my gift from the Lord, I guess.  I remarked this afternoon during the daily-routine-after-work-talk that The Husband and I do now that I so loved hearing The Tuner play his music at the end of his tuning session.  It made that three hours worth it somehow.  I mentioned how I missed that sound of music in this house since The Girl moved.  The Husband remarked that I still had that with my old piano here and my fingers and he was right.  I might only sound like The Tuner in my dreams but when my heart and mind are willing, I can sit at the piano and play for the Lord and sound just as good as Liberace.  You see, God listens with the heart and His Spirit makes all the difference in how something soothes the heart in times that comfort and joy is needed.  I figure even the most simple of music can sound beautiful and  reach the heart as long as it's touched by the Spirit of the Lord.  I'm thinking, too, that doesn't only apply to pianos and music but to other efforts aimed to please the Lord.  A touch of the Lord's Holy Spirit always makes a difference in everything.

So that’s my story and I’m sticking to it.  It’s almost midnight and I will be tired come 5 a.m. so I need to head toward my pillow again.   

I’m thankful that God answers prayer, aren’t you?

“Make a joyful noise unto the Lord.”  Psalm 100:1

THE PERILS OF A SIDEWALK

“Peril” – something that is likely to cause injury, pain, harm, or loss

Peril sounds like something that is unpleasant for sure.  And who would have thought perils would lie on such a simple thing as my front sidewalk?  Certainly not me.  But, alas, it happened not once, but twice in less than two weeks.

Sunday a week ago I was enjoying social time on the church porch after a great time of worship.  Some of the children from one of the Sunday School classes had done clay crafts that day.  One of the little guys, maybe more, had made snakes.  Whether I have mentioned this or not in this blog, those that know me remotely well know that I don’t do snakes.  Give me no photos of snakes, no rubber snakes, no snakes on television, no clay snakes, and certainly no real snakes.  I had related to one of my fellow church members my fear of the creepy crawlers, even going so far as to relate that when the famed snake man named Joe visited the The Girl’s elementary school years ago, I checked her out early before the show.  I respected her fear of snakes as well.  The school had advertised with signage in one hallway.  Being the frequent parent volunteer that I was and being there often, I learned where the sign was placed and detoured every time to my in-school destination via another route, even if it meant more steps for me.  On this particular Sunday a week ago I voiced my gratitude that I had not seen any snakes on my property for the past three summers.  Three.  Count ‘em. 

It wasn’t even four hours after that I was in the garage with The Husband and a couple of guests when I had a need to go into the house.  I beebopped around the corner of the house, got halfway up the front walk, looked down and my mind registered a snake headed toward the steps right up against the house.  It was a big snake.  A. Huge. Snake.  Near my sandaled feet.    Peril for sure.  Somehow instead of having a heart attack right there as I expected in my thoughts of such a situation, my feet quickly turned around and RAN towards the open garage door.  I looked at the husband and  said, “Snake on the front walk”.  I couldn’t even scream.  I was certainly a poor excuse for a snake-scared person if I couldn’t even scream.   The Husband, good man that he is, immediately grabbed the first thing there—in this case the oar of his fishing boat—and ran to the front walk, followed by The Guests.  He, according to the eye witnesses, murdered and disposed of the slinky thing.  In case you wonder, I was NOT an eye witness.   The Husband again, as he has done for many years, proved his worth.  I think I’ll keep him.

Last night was our regular Wednesday night choir practice.  The day had been rainy but the rain had cleared.  Now that the days are getting shorter, it’s dark when we get home.  The Good Husband had left on the porch light, pulled the truck up so as to shine the headlights that way, and I beebopped out of the truck—anxious to get in the house to see the remainder of one of my favorite TV shows, Survivor.   (I can hear your question now and, no, we have no VCR or DVR.)  I headed towards the porch with my keys.   Since the last rain, The Girl and The Son-in-law have been telling us that the spot on the sidewalk at the gutter was VERY slick.  They were right.  When my Croc-clad feet hit that spot, down I went.  Fast. Peril.  Before I knew it, I was flat of my back on the wet cement and just lay there while The Husband hurried out of his truck to see if I was okay.  I felt my left elbow was concrete burned and a slight pain on the right side, but otherwise felt okay.  Oddly, I didn’t even think at that point as I lay there that there could be more slimy things around.  Luckily there wasn’t.  Horrors if there had been with my lying there needing help to get up.  Oh, I just thought of how perilous that would have been.  Whew.  Anyways, this morning I’m a tad sore but not much worse for wear.  Which is amazing at my age if I think about it.  I tried to tell The Husband this morning that I was certain my cardio footwork aided me in dropping to the ground more easily (or so the trainer says it will do) and The Husband explained that couldn’t be true as I fell quickly as one sliding on ice.  He knows.  He watched the whole thing. 

As I considered these two episodes on my front sidewalk, I was thinking of how my spiritual life becomes sometimes racked with peril.  Perils of unbelief, lack of trust, my own mind's thoughts, unforgiveness and even my own arrogance.  Many episodes of my spiritual peril can cause me to become more humble, more forgiving, more tolerant, and even more loving. 

I have said this time and time again and most likely will continue to do so as I believe it wholeheartedly….I am so blessed to have a God who loves me, watches over me, and even allows perilous situations in my path to cause me to be stronger.  

Yes, I plan today to put something to keep anyone from walking over that slickness until it can be “fixed”.  And no, I don’t long to see another snake anywhere for a long time.  And just as I “tend” to these things, I plan to “tend” to my spiritual life as well.  That’s the most important life there is!

DAYS

A few years back I purchased a t-shirt for myself at a neat general store in North Carolina.  I felt it said exactly how I feel on some days.  It needs no further explaining as everyone who reads it has experienced the feeling.  I've been "there" lately.

Here's what the t-shirt says:

Need I say more?

KINDRED SPIRITS

"I think we might be kindred spirits after all,"  said Anne of Green Gables.  I have read the book and seen the movie and every sequel.  It is absolutely one of my favorite movies ever.  I will have to admit that the first movie "Anne of Green Gables" is my favorite for sure of all the Anne with an "e" movies.    I've seen it so many times I can say a lot of the lines right on time.  And exactly word for word.

Many of you will remember my VBS experience this past summer as I wrote about it on this blog.  You can look in June 2013 under the title "VBS" and read about it.  My little class let balloons go up into the sky and one was found 136 miles away by a Christian woman who sent a note back here and encouraged me on a day when I needed something.  I wrote her a note back and said in that note, "I think we might be kindred spirits."  When she replied to me via email (I had given her my contact information), the first sentence was "You had me at the Lucy Maud Montgomery quote."  Well, for all of you who might not know, Lucy Maud Montgomery wrote the book, Anne of Green Gables.  Uh huh.

We talked back and forth via email for the months since then and got acquainted.  There are so many things in common--the first and most important being that we both worship the same Lord and Savior and he is equally precious to the both of us.  Granted, I am old enough to be her mother, but that's okay, too.  We have formed a friendship that is a blessing to me.

Last week, The Balloon Friend made plans to come to my fair town to spend the 24 hours prior to the grand opening of our newest favorite chicken restaurant and she let me know of her plans.  Now for all of you unfamiliar, this fine chicken restaurant chooses 100 people to stay in their parking lot for the 24 hours prior to their grand opening and the 100 people who succeed in their camping experience are given a prize of a year's worth of the delicious chicken meals.  Uh huh.

Well, The Balloon Friend is very experienced in this "experience".  I went to the parking lot of the new restaurant and met her.  I was sooo excited on the way there.  We had seen photos of each other and she was watching and met me as I walked up.  What a delightful person she is!   I was able to meet some of her family members there also.  We talked, got acquainted more, and just enjoyed the fellowship time.  I went to my favorite pizza place and brought pizza back and we shared lunch before I came home.  One can only eat so much chicken at a time!  We both had cameras to document the moment and I will share the photo.  Yes, I am actually IN a photo.

I heard from her when she got home the next morning that she had arrived safely and didn't experience a great deal of our southbound early morning interstate traffic.  I was glad of that.  We again talked about how the Lord had worked through both of us to bless each other.  I am thankful to Him for that blessing and to The Balloon Friend for following her heart to return that balloon in the first place.

Kindred spirits certainly involve a sweet spirit and in this case, the Lord directed His Spirit to make it so.  Yes, it was a very good day!

EGG

I love to eat eggs!  Scrambled eggs, boiled eggs, deviled eggs, colored eggs….any way you make ‘em, I like ‘em.   That is, of course, with the exception of over easy egg cooking style.  I don’t enjoy my yellow egg yolk running all over my egg white.  I like my eggs well done.  I guess I can safely say that breakfast is my favorite meal of the day and mostly because it includes eggs.  Unfortunately, my love is not shared by The Son-In-Law nor The Girl.   As much as I love eggs, their dislike of them is just as strong.  But, luckily, we’re still friends. 

There are times in my life when I don’t love eggs.  Many times I have dropped an egg on my kitchen hardwood floor.   What a mess!  Have you ever tried to clean up a cracked messy runny egg from a hardwood floor?  It’s a challenge.  I have read all kinds of things of how to make this task easier and actually tried several of those methods to find that maybe pouring salt on it and then scooping it up makes it a bit easier. 

Last Sunday I was cooking the Sunday pancake breakfast for The Husband before Sunday School.  A while back I had bought a loaf of gluten free cinnamon raisin bread by mistake.  You might question that statement, especially the phrase “by mistake”.  Well, I’ll tell you as much I like eggs, I dislike cinnamon.  I don’t like to eat it, smell it, or look at it.  Ugh.   This time of year, too, the smell of cinnamon is EVERYWHERE.   Even though I dislike it, that thrifty part of me is stronger than that dislike.  I thought to myself how I could make use of the bread without waste and decided that Sunday morning French toast for me might be somewhat edible with the slight cinnamon flavor.  I tried it one Sunday and it was tolerable so until that loaf of gluten free cinnamon raisin bread in the freezer is gone, I will be having French toast on Sundays.    See, when one has a conflict all he has to do is figure out a way to make things work.  Duh.

Back to my story—I get so distracted.  In the mornings, I always have my half of my small cup of coffee, make myself a glass of iced green tea, and then prepare either breakfast or lunch for that day.  Last Sunday, I had the pancake mix ready to cook waiting for The Husband to appear in the kitchen so I decided to go ahead with my preparation for my fine Sunday breakfast.  I had drank my coffee and had my iced green tea ready.  I got out my small square dish, got the egg from the refrigerator, cracked it, threw the eggshell in the trash, picked up my nice full glass of iced green tea to take a sip and ughhhhhhh!  Guess what was there?  My egg.  In the top of my glass of iced green tea.  Beautifully sitting there with the yolk lovely and yellow with clear egg all around it.  Right there in that glass of tea.  I do love eggs but not in my nice glass of iced green tea.  That kind of turns one’s stomach to a disgusting feeling.  

The scary part is that I had no idea I had done such a deed.  I immediately poured out the egg and the ice and the tea and put the glass in the dishwasher, all the while thinking I was surely losing what mind I had left.  I couldn’t even make myself rinse the glass out and use the used glass.  It was so gross.  So I eventually got the breakfast done, eaten, and went to Sunday School. 

I thought about the experience several times this past week.  How often do I go about a task without my mind on my business?   Most of the time.  My mind is so full of all there is “to do” or at least I THINK there is to do and has very little mind relaxation.  I’m thinking that the Lord really wants us to keep our minds on His business and rest in Him.  The scriptures say in red letters meaning that Jesus said, “Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.”  (Matthew ll:28)  What a wonderful promise that is to be certain!  And it’s only one of the many promises we have as children of His.

Today had many instances in it that made it, for me, “an egg in my tea” kind of day.  Those experiences teach me that when those times and days come and I think of that egg in my tea, I am reminded that even when I “mess up”, God is always there to help me start over.   With a clean glass, too. 

I am blessed.