Warning:
Cuteness overload. One of the little
bitty girls who is watched over often by Chris in the nursery
approached her after church. Smiling
shyly and ever-so sweetly, she handed her a page from a coloring book. She had obviously been working hard all
through the service to get Mickey and Minnie Mouse done just perfect. She said, “Here. This is for you.” Aw. Of
course Chris did the usual amount of encouraging and gushing and praising over
her color selection and application. And
when Chris finished, the precious little one, with a toss of her hand in my
general direction, added (Her emphasis, not mine), “It’s for HIM, too.” I am so happy to be HIM in cases like
this. It is important to be
remembered. Thank you, Elena.
We
did our three miles again yesterday.
When we “recovered” from that exertion, I decided to mow the grass. And before I could finish, the clouds started
rolling in. That’s not necessarily a bad
thing, you know. They bring welcome
relief from the unfettered sun. But when
the air itself begins to cool and the wind begins to pick up, you know
something extra is on its way. So I made
an attempt to speed up. Put it in
hyper-drive, in fact. I discovered that
self-propelled lawn mowers really can’t go any faster than what they are
programmed to go.
Chris
came out onto the front porch at one point and yelled something at me. And she kept pointing at the sky. Well, I knew a thunderstorm was imminent. There was really nothing I could do about
that. So I smiled and pushed harder, now
almost running as I strained against the mower controls. Finally I completed the task. Before the rain fell, I might add. Oh, I never got around to weedeating or
sweeping, but the yard was mowed, so that was a win.
As I
put the lawn mower back in its place inside the shed, Chris joined me. She had been waiting to tell me
something. See, when she came out on the
porch, it wasn’t to tell me that it was about to rain. Why, no.
And she hadn’t been just broadly indicating the threatening skies. Nope.
She told me that she had been pointing to a particular cloud bank. The one that had begun swirling into tornadic
shape. A funnel cloud, dropping down and
then returning into the sky. Oops. Misread that one, didn’t I? She just wanted to make sure I wasn’t swept
away into the tornado and whisked to Oz for an adventure without her. Nope.
Can’t get rid of me that easily, my dear.
James
4:7 says, “Submit yourselves, then, to
God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you.”
Father,
thank you for protecting me while I mowed.
And thank you for Elena. Help her
to grow in mind, body, and spirit to know you better and better. Amen.
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