"Jesus answered, "I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me." ---John 14:6
Thursday, December 23, 2010
A New Day
Tuesday was wonderful, what with our friends, John and Donna coming to visit, bearing gifts, even, and the sun shone, the pizza and wings were terrific and Donna's cranberry bread was to die for.
But on Wednesday ol' Debra morphed into a great big fat grouch. For unknown reasons, even--well--probably hormonal ones and eating too much sugar, also. Oy. And I can blame the return of dark clouds, but I can't blame Tom for my crankiness since he ran errands most of the day and wasn't even here (he should consider himself, blessed).
We all have days like those. But the important thing to remember is "this, too, shall pass," for it does, you know, especially when we take steps the day after. When we switch places with God and let Him do the driving and then just lean back, exhale, repent and start all over the next morning. And do things His way (of course, stopping the pretending that we don't know just what that means).
If we listen, He will speak. (Rather like, 'if you build it, they will come.') His sheep hear His voice, after all. As in, when I want (truly want) to hear where I went wrong, boy oh boy, He tells me. With compassion, of course, and so to save me from myself.
Oh! Speaking of sheep, I watched this video last night around midnight (couldn't even fall asleep lightning-quick as usual) and it sprinkled sweetness all over my dreams. How kind it is of Jenna to allow me to work her farm alongside her in my head. That's where I'm one terrific farmer with real-live animals--inside this ol' head of mine, thanks to people like Jenna (who's not even 30 yet(!)) and Mary Jane. (Watch the video--you'll love it.)
P.S. Today I'm feeling terrific again--and it's not even sunny. Yesterday passed away and is forever gone and, thank-goodness, God's mercies are new today. After the 'train wreck' which was yesterday, I surely needed every new mercy available.
The photos: I hiked through the snow to the edge of our woods this grey morning. It's peaceful back there, yet a bit dreary, too.