September 16 – “Surprise delivery”

Well, how about that?  I had something happen today that I can’t recall ever happening before.  And it’s not even 7 a.m.  I went outside to get our neewspapers.  We take both the Galveston and Houston papers.  The Galveston one gives Chris her daily gossip laugh.  I read it so I can check the obituaries and see if I’m in them.  The Houston paper gives us all the information we need about Galveston without much bias.  That’s refreshing.  I guess they keep it simple since we are just the outlying branches of their community – that island off the coast of Texas that watches their local television stations. 

Now, the Galveston deliver person does his best to hit the tree in the middle of our yard.  I like that.  Keeps things consistent.  I know when I open the front door whether he’s been here or not, because I can see the base of the tree.  The guy who delivers the Houston paper, though is not so consistent.  Sometimes he tries to hit the tree as well, like they are tossing horseshoes or something.  Those are the good mornings.  Sometimes he manages to get it completely under the car that is parked in the driveway.  Not so good for this old guy early in the morning.  Yesterday was interesting.  He went for the old under the car toss, but it went farther than it has ever gone.  It actually passed almost all the way under the car to where I could see it near the front.  Still had to do one of those deep knee bends to reach it.  Nice attempt, though.  Gotta applaud the effort.

So this morning I opened the door as usual and made my initial perusal of the territory to see if I could locate each of the newspapers.  There under the tree was the trusty Galveston  Daily News.  Excellent.  I didn’t see the Houston Chronicle, though.  Not that unusual on a Sunday.  Sometimes he doesn’t make before eight.  Some Sundays he takes the day off, I guess, and I have to call to get the paper.  I sighed and began the trudge through the grass to get the information that was available.  At least it would have the score of the Astros game.  Of course it’s officially football season, so the Astros would be even more buried than they were before they agreed to move to the American League and traded off all their talent.  College football is marginally interesting to me, though.  I could still check out the Aggies and the Longhorns and see who is ranked higher.  As I took my first step out the door I felt something squishy under my foot.  What in the world could be parked on my doorstep that wasn’t there last night?  I slowly looked down, not knowing what to expect.  A renegade stuffed animal?  But Cailyn wasn’t here last night.  An overturned flowerpot?  That was a possibility.  The neighborhood cat?  No such luck.  As my eyes adjusted to the dark I began to realize that what my foot had squished so admirably was indeed the Houston Chronicle.  The deliverer had placed it carefully right at the threshold of the front door.  To what do I owe this special treatment?  Is it repentance for the under the car treatment of yesterday?  Whatever it is, I could get used to this.  Better than walking out to the tree. 

Psalms 30:4-5 says, “Sing to the Lord, you saints of his; praise his holy name.  For his anger lasts only a moment, but his favor lasts a lifetime; weeping may remain for a night, but rejoicing comes in the morning.”

Father, thank you for that joy.  It means we always have something to look forward to.  Amen.