"...though you do not [even] now see Him, you believe in Him and exult thrill with inexpressible and glorious (triumphant, heavenly) joy." ... 1 Peter 1:8
With interest (and prayer) I followed that story of the missing dad from the Broncos game and what a relief, at 5:30 this morning, to read he'd been found. Safe.
While Tom ate his French toast during the news, we discussed what might have led this man to Pueblo, CO (since nobody's answering our questions right now) and one of my guesses was, "Maybe he just wanted to escape his life for awhile."
Hey. It happens.
After Tom left for work I considered (again) how vital it is for us all to actively create a life we'd fight to keep rather than one which tempts us to escape whenever things go all wonky.
Me? I love this life which God and I have customized. That must be true because of days like my Monday two weeks ago. Was it sunny? Did I travel someplace exciting? Did I win something?
I flipped on the tv and discovered Rehab Addict would be on for hours(!) then, during a commercial, stepped out to the front porch where I spied a long box. Hooray! My new telescopic squeegee had arrived.
I'd needed one for three years (having left ours at the farm) because our dining room windows must be cleaned from the outside and now both the newly-installed windows do, also. They so do not fold in for easy, convenient cleaning.
Stepping back into the house, I thanked God and ripped open the box while letting the inspiration that is Nicole Curtis seep into me. And the squeegee had a sponge attached! I'd not even noticed that when I ordered it online.
During the next hour of commercials I washed spots from five windows, no ladder needed. I put a load of dishes through the dishwasher (which I keep forgetting to tell you finally cast its spell upon me two years ago). And while I vacuumed, the sun appeared, I ate lunch, folded clothes and ironed six of Tom's shirts (all with Nicole).
And--by the time Tom unlocked the back door--I felt like I'd been on vacation. Or been sprinkled with fairy dust. Or something else rather odd.
You'll never watch a news story hinting that I escaped my life, not with all the love and work God has poured into me:
... the lessons of forgiveness, saying no, saying yes, staying in control of my feelings, training my thoughts, expressing delight in tiny things, loving God with my all and--.
Besides, there is no leaving my flawed self (as Joyce Meyer says, "Wherever you go, there you are"). But now I'll never try, for anyone who can feel giddy about a squeegee on a pole and a tv show about restoring old houses, doesn't feel the need to start all over.
She already has. Thank God.
Tom felt fine yesterday and returned to work, but he must have been pretty sick over the weekend to have forgotten to tell me that Netflix now has 25 episodes of Rehab Addict(!) and he'd added it to our instant queue. Oh my, seeing it there, I nearly had a happy seizure.
Wow. I watched one minute of the first episode, felt a sudden jolt of inspiration and raced upstairs, grabbed my little glass-top table, ran outside with it (and some newspaper), swung open the garage door, grabbed some light blue spray paint and painted the table. All on a sunny, record-breaking warm Autumn day.
Another day to remember. Oh, there are many.
Lest anyone have a fit in my comment box, I'm not saying the dad who went to Pueblo tried to avoid his life. His story simply made a good jumping-off point for a blog post. :)
** Note: his story has been updated since I linked to it. You can judge for yourself now why he left. Even though, frankly, I consider it none of my business. heh.