Multitudes on Monday- Joy in the Rain

The peanut butter is extra thick as I spread it on nearly burnt toast. There are crumbs all over the counter and sticky strawberry jelly but I leave it as I finish making the sandwiches. The boxes are piled up at the end of the kitchen table and I take a deep breath and open the fridge door back up.

And the deep breathing continues, as if the deep breaths could somehow fill my heart and stop time, just for a few.  more.  minutes. It's recognizing that six months can go by in a flash and the calendar pages keep turning and now here I am.  And the miles will pass and time will keep ticking and I'll work and Caleb will go to school and we'll just keep on living, because that's what we do.  We live to fill the time and to fill the calendar and to fill ourselves, forgetting sometimes about a well that never goes dry and bread that is always enough and how to truly be filled we must recognize that our emptiness is not earthly.

The heart aches and sometimes there's no way to patch it.

It's Monday again after a beautiful weekend, perfect temps.  I enjoyed a nice walk.  Time with friends and family.  Laughter from Will and sunshine and happiness...

but the gloomy cloud still hung over my head.  Today, it has appeared outside.  Rain is forecasted, and I'm reminded that without the rain, the flowers will never bloom and the trees will never bud and the grass will stay dry and brown.

Without sacrifice, we are unable to blossom ourselves.  Without dedication, we become mediocre, and if there is anything I've learned from this world, mediocrity is unacceptable... unless, of course, you've learned not to care what this world thinks.

Still, we press on. 

And as I sit here, he naps and Caleb is at Papaw William's posting pics of him and his girls, a kiss on each cheek, a reminder that family is family even if there is no blood involved and that life.  keeps.  living.

And I take another deep breath and remember that weeping endures for only a night, for only a short time, and then there is joy.  Joy unspeakable and full of grace... and even in the weeping we can find joy. 

We find joy when we stop focusing on the rainclouds and start looking for the rainbows... for the peeks of the sunshine through the darkness, for the very mediocre things in our life that makes that next deep breath possible.

Thanking God this week for family and friends who are like family, for good food and laughter and Karaoke machines, for phones that take videos and for teenage girls and 10 year old boys that are so rotten it isn't funny.  I'm thankful for sunshine and loud music in my ears as I walk. I'm thankful for no condemnation and shame in Christ, for mercy and grace and unconditional love. I'm thankful for Job 42, and the promise that what He's got in store for us is so much more than we could ever imagine.  I'm thankful for purple ink pens and tulips on my kitchen table and Online Bible study and new friends and sunsets and Pink Lemonade sugar cookies and french vanilla cake pops.

I'm thankful that time keeps on ticking and that even though we've not been promised tomorrow, we know if it comes He holds it, and that His presence is in Kentucky and in Texas and all along the way... and in your neighborhood, too.

I'm thankful that prayer works... and send one up for everyone reading today, hoping you'll say a little prayer for me and mine, too?

Because I know that I know in my head that His grace is sufficient... and I'm so very, very thankful that if I keep repeating it, my heart will know it, too...