I've been working with the carrots and apples and crab apples (small, grumpy apples) tonight and will be making carrot pickles and jelly tomorrow. The apple crisp is baking as I type, the hour turning past midnight. I couldn't help it. The thought of coffee and apple crisp in the morning was enough inspiration to postpone my bedtime a bit.
Nora and I doctored the houseplants today and finished redecorating her bedroom. I had to completely dissect the daybed that was downstairs to make it a one person moving job, but it gave me an excuse to use a crescent wrench. [in a manly voice] Oh, yeah. (Flexes muscles, picks teeth, smells armpits.) After we finished her room, taping the alphabet to the wall, pulling out polly pockets for a bit of "polly pocket animal rescue," I looked around and thought, "I want to be a little girl again. I want to live in this room." That thought made me giddy.
I looked out my window today and noticed the mailbox door was hanging open a bit. Approaching the mailbox, I realized that our mailman had stuffed my amazon boxes into the mailbox and tied the whole thing together with rubber bands. After admiring his determination, I freed my mailbox from its tethers, plucking a few notes on the rubber bands for the fun of it and pulled the boxes free. My Book of Common Prayer had arrived. And here's one for tonight for anyone going through a major life transition (I'd argue we always are):
"Lord, help me now to unclutter my life, to organize myself in the direction of simplicity. Lord, teach me to listen to my heart; teach me to welcome change, instead of fearing it. Lord, I give you these stirrings inside me. I give you my discontent. I give you my restlessness. I give you my doubt. I give you my despair. I give you all the longing I hold inside. Help me to listen to these signs of change, of growth; help me to listen seriously and follow where they lead through the breathtaking empty space of an open door."
For all of you who are asking and looking and seeking and praying and finding a still space to listen for God so you might know what to do, I send my love and this prayer. Courage, dear friends. He says, "I am always with you," even when you are unsure what to make of this life or what this life is making of you.
I just pulled the apple crisp out, leaving the oven door open like my dad always did, using the warmth to heat the house.
'night friends.
You so often speak the very words my heart needs. Thank you. And Wednesday sounds like a fantastic visiting day. :)
ReplyDeleteIt cracks me up when the mail carrier does this. Maybe it's a guy thing, they like the challenge of making it all fit in the box! :) One time the box was too big to be strapped to the box, and Matt found it in the grill after I had called to ask about it not arriving on time. Good thing we weren't hungry for steaks! :)
ReplyDeleteI love your prayer and the words you wrote. My heart is feeling content but when I read them I realized there were a few things I'd forgotten to hand up. Thank you for these great words.
Yesterday we studied the Epistle reading in Bible Study and it was Paul writing to the Philippians and we talked about those things that keep us from the gospel by our own doing? What added thing have we come up with to make ourselves even better than redeemed children of Christ? Here's to letting the freedom of that soak in knowing that nothing can shake how firmly we are planted in the palm of His hand. Happy apple crisp!
ReplyDeleteOh, yes. I needed this tonight. Thank you so much!
ReplyDelete