Saturday, June 6, 2009

Over the River and Through the Woods...

And up the mountains too! Yes, we're going to the grandparents' house. Camp is next week, so I'll be taking some of the children there, and I'll be staying with my folks while the kids are at camp.

And yes, Hunter, I will get to visit with you too! Yay! And Chris, maybe I'll get to give you a hug too :)

Since I'll be without wireless internet for the week, this may be my last post for a while. Just check back in next weekend, and I'll have pictures galore and lots to tell.

Here is the latest from our friend, Elisabeth Elliot:

"There are times when the entire arrangement of our existence is disrupted and we long then for just one ordinary day -- seeing our ordinary life as greatly desirable, even wonderful,in the light of the terrible disruption that has taken place. Difficulty opens our eyes to pleasures we had taken for granted." ("Keep a Quiet Heart," p. 47)

I know that feeling; perhaps you do too. An earthquake has rocked your world, and you know that things will never be the same. How difficult it is to accept a changed world, a seemingly ruined life! Why can't things just stay beautiful?

I read an email message today written by the daughter-in-law of the pastor of 1st Baptist Church in Montgomery, AL. One year ago, she was young, happily married, new mother, perfect health. In one second -- LITERALLY, ONE SECOND -- her world fell apart. She experienced a brain hemorrhage, extensive bleeding. Now she can barely swallow, can't walk, is partially paralyzed.

Yet she writes with joy and thankfulness. She has accepted what God has done, and does not mourn her losses. She has hope in a new future -- not the one she'd written for herself, but the one she's now accepted as her own, from God's hand.

One phone call, one blink of an eye on the interstate, one trip on the stairs, one word from a loved one. One heartbeat. In an instant, life changes. We must be pliable in our Maker's hands. Whenever I think of myself in God's hand, I remember what is underneath me: a piercing hole that symbolizes his love and sacrifice for me. His hand is a good place to be.

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