The preverbal straw that broke the camel’s back showed up last night. It’s silly really. This little thing that went wrong. But it’s the last in a string of bigger things that have gone wrong this week. I feel like I somehow have stuck a stick in Satan’s hornets’ nest… and they’re after me.
Then this morning I log on to Facebook to see that I’ve been tagged in a note from a sweet friend who is also being chased by a swarm of hornets.
Her take on life?
Ouch. I’m telling you, reading her list of blessings my pity party came to a screeching halt. Conviction wrapped its loving fingers around my heart, and I knew… I knew that God would not be honored in my whining. He would not be glorified in my complaining. I knew that my response to any situation could only be praise.
So without further ado…
Today I am thankful for notes from friends that remind me of a gracious God. The perfect song at the perfect moment. Friends who know the deep dark secrets, and love me anyway. My sweet boy when he wraps his arms around me. Blue skies and white puffy clouds. Sprinklers and green grass. Teenage girls who are more concerned with their reputation with God than their reputation with their peers. A youth pastor who loves unconditionally and pushes students out of their comfort zones. Comfy pjs. Borrowing shoes from my daughters. My super-styling minivan (with the window that won’t roll up). Guacamole. Hagen-Dazs Dulce de Leche. Girls Night out. Mommas that didn’t birth me, but love me like they did. High school sweethearts that still love you when you’re all grown up. A job that matters. Facebook. Words. A good book. A king size bed that holds one mom and three daughters. Intimate conversations between said mom and daughters on said king size bed. Church. Pot lucks. (seems appropriate that they be together) My iPhone. Thunderstorms. Lakes. Woods. Peace and quiet. Libraries. Long hot baths where no one knocks on the door. Opening my Bible and finding comfort, every time. Texting. Teenagers. (those two go together as well) Theatre. Musicals. Sonic’s happy hour. Suffering with hope. Never knowing oppression, hunger, or war. Pedicures. Journals and the perfect pen. Blogs. Knowing He loves me, even when I’m acting crazy. Knowing that He knew. Before I drew my first breath, He knew me. He had a plan for me. He called me and anointed me. Knowing that suffering may come… but joy always follows.