Catch up on school not done last week when Boy Child and I were ill
Finish the laundry
Wash the comforters and blankets since Rob is reacting to the dog dander on it
Make tomato basil soup
Clean up the yard where a dog helped itself to trash last night (not on the original list)
Read and critique three chapters for my friend
Coffee tonight (yeah!)
Upload my pictures for the 1000 Gifts blog I plan on posting today
Walk the dog
Busy day, but a good day.
...the phone rings.
A strained voice. Tears trying not to fall. "Dad is in the ER. We had to transport him by ambulance..."
The list of issues is not good.
"Do you need me there?"
I'm already walking to the bedroom to find clothes and making plans to adjust plans.
"No, not yet. Let me find out what is happening first. They don't have a room number for him yet. I'll call..."
I hang up and...
...make phone calls asking for prayer.
...post the information on our Facebook pages.
...let Rob know what is happening.
...wonder what else needs to be done.
...make mental contingency plans.
...let key people know about the possibility of needing to make major changes to the week's plans.
The children ask me questions. My answers are sharp. I am apologetic. They are forgiving. Such grace.
But I know, I am not useful this way. I am not the peace needed. I am in need.
An invitation comes.
"Be still and know that I am God."
How easy to dismiss wisdom's invitation in favor of pride's determination to push through, to be strong, to overcome. The words are devoid of real meaning in our world which hears, "Sit down and read your Bible or pray."
But the promise resounds in the hardness of life.
"What is bothering you? What desires to intimidate you? What stands against you? Be still. Rest. Let it go. Know I AM God. See me handle the problem. See me work mightily on your behalf. Know I am bigger than this and will use it for your good. Don't fear. It is not bigger than me. Be still and know I am God."
I hold out my hands, full of to do lists and concerns, and empty them into His. He is capable.
I am still.
Copyright Jerri Phillips 2009