I pray that from his glorious, unlimited resources, he will empower you with inner strength through his Spirit. Then Christ will make his home in your hearts as you trust in him. Your roots will grow down into God’s love and keep you strong. Ephesians 3:16-17

Roots are often a topic of conversation in our home: plant roots, rhizomes, and bulbs. Tree roots, above and below ground. And, of course, grass roots. They’ve all been a source of concern this summer during our drought and extreme heat. When roots don’t receive the proper amount of nutrient-bearing rain, they need to be supplemented. I’m sure many of you have been out early in the day to water in the hope of keeping the roots in your yard moist enough to survive.

Some plants spread their roots laterally, and others have a very deep taproot. Those generally tend to be perennial in nature and are able to survive for another season because of the taproot and its ability to travel deep into the earth in search of water. They are very difficult to transplant because it’s nearly impossible to dig deep enough to get all of the taproot, thus causing the plant to have a low survival rate.

There is another type of root that gets considerable attention around our house. It’s called the family tree, and Ken is very much into the study of genealogy. In fact, it’s his favorite pastime when inclement weather keeps him indoors.

His maternal ancestry is a very clear roadmap leading back to France and even to royalty. That was many centuries ago, and only a few portions of the family castle still exist today, but it’s always fun to know that you can claim a relationship, albeit quite distant, to kings, queens, princes, and princesses. More recently, his tenth-great-grandfather migrated to Canada, where he is honored by a plaque in Montreal proclaiming his digging of the very first well In that city. Many generations of the Archambault family have called Canada and the US their home. The majority of Ken’s maternal ancestors have resided on one side or the other of that border. In more recent years, there has been a shift in that trend, and the family has become scattered from our East Coast to the west and from north to south. I guess that’s pretty typical with most families in this modern era.

The Barthelette side of Ken’s family has been an entirely different story. He has hit brick wall after brick wall. No matter how many rabbit holes he chases, he can’t get beyond his great-grandfather. And, let me tell you, he’s been frustrated. Occasionally he finds a clue that seems promising, and he starts digging hard, but to no avail. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard him lament the fact that he didn’t ask more questions of his parents and grandparents when the opportunity was there. It’s a shame we don’t realize those things when the time is right.

And that statement can apply to another family tree, the one that leads us back to Jesus. Each of us is a branch or a leaf from his family tree, and so many fail to realize whose they are until it’s too late. Our ancestors are all mortal beings, and while it’s fascinating to learn where they’ve been and what they’ve done, those mortals had an expiration date! And so do we! So, wouldn’t it be a good idea to be sure we’re securely attached to the deepest taproot of all, the Holy Trinity! Jesus is patiently waiting for each of his brothers and sisters to come to Him. He won’t force us. We were given free will to make our own decisions. But this decision doesn’t get a do-over. When He comes to gather His followers to take us home to meet the Father, the time for decisions is past. Feed and water your roots well, and your reward will be great!

Let your roots grow down deep into him, and let your lives be built on him. Colossians 2:7a

Lord, help me to stay firmly attached to the taproot you offer and to grow

deeply into the soil of your Word.

Don’t forget to show hospitality to strangers, for some who have done this have entertained angels without realizing it. Hebrews 13:2

Monday morning, September 21:

The air is heavy this morning. Not heavy with the oppressive heat of the previous weeks but with the lingering moisture from a heavy rain. Not a day promising record or near-record high temperatures and continued drought, but instead cool, refreshing air. This is a day that celebrates God’s wonderful provision.

Yesterday, the final big item of our restoration was completed. It was a long day for our contractor and his assistant. Their task was to remove our water heater and air handler from their closet in the garage, replace the floor that was damaged back in July when the old water heater sprung its destructive leak, then reset the water heater and air handler with the hope that both would work after being wrestled about in the garage.

During these past two-plus months of repairs and rebuilding, there have been moments when we wondered if we’d get through it, if our home would ever feel normal again. It’s also been a revealing journey. Our contractor, recommended by the men who installed our new water heater, was a stranger, though he lives in our own community. He came rushing in, late for the appointment time he had set… not exactly an auspicious beginning. Add to that the fact that he was a tiny snip of a man, not the big, muscular guy you would expect to meet in his line of work. I’ve come to realize that there’s a lot to be said for small “packages.” Last night, for example, I went into the garage to see how the work was progressing and couldn’t see him anywhere. He was behind the water heater, in that tiny little closet, working to get something just the way he wanted it.

He is willing to jump right into the messiest, most uncomfortable situations. That also means he may not make it to an appointment or even find the time to call or text. When his phone rings, someone is typically in trouble of some sort: a water emergency, the aftermath of a fire, or the discovery of the dreaded black mold. His rescue often involves full hazmat equipment, and that’s not a pleasant place to be at any time, especially on a hot summer day. So, there have been days when our patience has run thin. But we tried to remember how grateful we were to meet him on that night when we were the ones in the midst of an emergency. Were we always successful? Sadly, you know the answer. At the same time, we worried about him. He works way too many hours and sacrifices so much time that could be spent with his four young girls. But we always had to admire his dedication to being there for others.

I think God arranged for him to be here at just the right time to challenge us a bit. And he did an excellent job! We had to overcome disappointment and anger. We had to exercise more patience than we often felt. But somewhere along the way, we had to trust God to have our backs. Yesterday, I felt that comfort of knowing that all of the details were in His hands. I prayed before heading out to church and actually let it all go. I didn’t worry if something didn’t work out on our timetable, because I knew it would somehow finally get done, if not that day, then another.

Late in the day, our contractor came into the kitchen and called me by my name. I was startled at first…he had always insisted on using a respectful “ma’am” when addressing me. He may have had a little difficulty keeping appointments and communicating his whereabouts, but he was always respectful and helpful. He shared stories about his girls, his pride in them very evident. He never used colorful language. He always cleaned up after himself, and that means a great deal when you’re in the middle of a messy renovation. He showed us a lot of grit during these weeks and the strength I didn’t imagine he would have. In turn, we tried to show him a little bit of Jesus. No preaching, just gentle suggestions that we thought were appropriate, and we let him know that we prayed for his safety and well-being.

Did we do enough? Probably not. He still works on Sundays, but he knew we went to church, and he asked questions about where and if we liked the church. We humans typically fall short when it comes to spreading the Good News about Jesus, but I hope that something we said or did let him know that there is someone who always watches over him as he works hard providing for the ones he loves.

Last night, when it was just about time to turn the water heater and air handler back on, God created a magnificent drumroll throughout the heavens. And, just as all the equipment began doing the job it was intended to do, blessed rain began to fall. What a way to celebrate! Weeks of extreme heat and drought came to an end in just a wave of God’s powerful hand, and we have our home back again. It was a fitting conclusion to our summer odyssey. I am so grateful for God’s loving provision. But I will miss that small man, with the very big heart, who was at the center of it all.

Thank you, Lord, for sending just the right angel to help us when we were in need, and please let him know you’ll always be there for him!

I am the true grapevine, and my Father is the gardener. John 15:1 NLT

Are you a list person? I am. Now, understand, my lists are not always committed to paper. Often I just store them in my head, though that’s not necessarily a safe bet at my age. I’ve been a planner all my adult life, perhaps even younger. Even though I’d like to be more spontaneous, my psychological make-up insists that I need organization. I make physical and mental lists of the things I plan to accomplish in each given day and often into the future. When on a shopping outing, I plan a route that makes the most efficient use of time and fuel, very important in today’s economy.

As a couple, Ken and I service our vehicles regularly. Last year required a lot of hundred-thousand-mile servicing so that we can go another hundred thousand miles in our aging Prius. Ken stays right on top of lawn equipment maintenance, and I plan ahead the things I want to plant in my landscape beds so there are blooms all summer. We keep up with home maintenance. It’s a big investment, and we hope it will appreciate in value over the years. In the kitchen, I clean as I go so there is not an overwhelming pile of pots and pans when the job is done. Ken and I both tackle maintenance as an everyday facet of our lives. Planning is a good thing when used to an effective result.

Sometimes, however, my obsession with lists and schedules is like a freight train racing toward a break in the track, and we know how that’s going to end. When the schedule gets upset, everything comes to a stop. That happened in spades when that water heater sprung its leak. The first twenty-four hours were filled with trauma, but once we settled into a different routine, I was back to making mental lists to give our life a comfortable flow even in the midst of the chaos.

I’ve never really gotten into the left brain, right brain thing, but I’m convinced the two sides of mine are at war with one another. One side tells me I need to get this, that, or the other thing completed or the world may come to an end. The other half constantly insists that I need to just cool it! Somewhere in the middle there has to be a happy medium, doesn’t there?

I could claim these confessions to be a gross exaggeration, but that would be an exaggeration in itself. I do like to live a well-organized life that includes preventive maintenance. That being said, I’m trying to make some changes toward a more relaxed style of living. Maybe the fact that I can’t remember my mental lists anymore is a good thing. What I can’t recall can be crossed off my list. Aha…progress!

Part of that change is recognizing that my spiritual life also needs maintenance. I could list the things I do daily to maintain my relationship with the lord. In fact, I did that recently. When my back was injured during our restoration, I had to see my doctor or one of his associates. I was really on edge. There was the pain of the injury, but also the realization that I was not going to be able to complete all the tasks of restoration within my preferred timeframe. I was a bit argumentative regarding the advice offered by a caring medical professional. I don’t like taking new meds. That rejection is backed by the fact that I’ve had a major side effect in the past that makes me very cautious. Eventually she asked if I was a believer. I answered, “Of course!” And I proceeded to list all of the ways that I follow my faith. But, in trying to illustrate how strongly I believe, I forgot the one thing that mattered. I didn’t tell her that I often spend quiet time alone just talking and listening to Jesus. Clearly, I had missed the point of her question.

Remain in me, and I will remain in you. John 15:4a NLT

That incident certainly gave me pause. And I did hit the pause button for several weeks while I healed. The hard part is to continue that slower pace of living on a permanent basis. Having Jesus for a friend isn’t as simple as just sending a quick text to an earthly friend. It involves much more of our time and focus. We can connect with Jesus by reading the Word, setting up a loop of favorite worship songs either for real or in our heads, attending church and small church groups. But the most important part is to stop doing and just be in His Presence. There is no better preventive maintenance!

When you come looking for me, you’ll find me. Jeremiah 29:13 MSG

And the Lord God formed man of dust of the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and man became a living being. Genesis 2:7

What do metal, glass, and pottery all have in common? They are all sourced from materials found in the earth. Metal in its many forms is, of course, mined. Glass is the product of molten sand, and pottery is formed from clay. And all of these very plentiful materials have been in use for thousands of years, though in much simpler forms than we recognize today. Copper, for instance, became useful as jewelry or other ornaments around 9000 BCE. Stone Age toolmakers used obsidian, a natural volcanic glass, to create sharp blades long before artificial glass became known around 3500 BCE. This early process was responsible for decorative trade beads and other trinkets.

And then there is pottery, one of the most commonly found items in every home during Biblical times. Though older evidence places the origins of pottery pieces much further back in time, storage and cooking vessels became numerous in the last 10,000 years, making the simple, yet very valuable pot one of the oldest of human inventions.

Pottery vessels are the most commonly found items from those early periods because of their durability. Even if a pot does not survive in its entirety, sherds are always among the items salvaged from ancient dump sites.

I am a lover of pottery pieces. They grace shelves and tables all around our home, and our mantle is a great place for them to be enjoyed by all who visit. I have none of monetary value; I just buy what appeals to me. Sometimes it’s a particular color or a unique shape. Sometimes they hold cut flowers or support plant cuttings while they’re rooting. Many are just there to add form and color to our home. I like to combine them with pretty glass or polished steel. I guess I would qualify as a lover of earthy things.

In Biblical times, pottery pieces were typically functional, providing storage for water, wine, and grains, among other things. They were owned by the lower and middle classes. The upper classes possessed the financial resources to supply the needs of their homes using precious metals and other more costly materials. The potter’s wheel was invented in some form around 6,000 – 4,000 BCE. This tool revolutionized shape and production speed. Evidence of wheels and other “modern” equipment has been discovered in the area where Jesus later ministered and has been authenticated as belonging to that time period.

The Bible is filled with references to potters, such as when God spoke to Jeremiah.

Go down to the potter’s shop, and I will speak to you there. So I did as he told me and found the potter working at his wheel. But the jar he was making did not turn out as he had hoped, so he crushed it into a lump of clay again and started over. Jeremiah 18:2-4

I’ve watched a potter do exactly that. I’ve even seen one throw a less-than-pleasing pot against a wall. The good thing about clay, in its original form, is that it’s very forgiving. Add a little water and work it well, and it’s good as new.

Paul offers a couple of very appropriate analogies comparing us to jars of clay or clay in the potter’s hands. Just like a piece of pottery, we are beautifully crafted and are capable of containing God’s spirit. But sometimes, when we become distracted, we can spring a leak. And a leak can become a disaster when left untended, as we learned this past summer. I rather like that comparison of humans to pottery. It’s one of the easier Biblical expressions to understand. It reminds us that we can be remolded into whatever God intended us to be, no matter how badly we’ve messed up, and that God has the ultimate authority over all things.

Does not the potter have the right to make out of the same lump of clay some pottery for special purposes and some for common use? Romans 9:21

But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us. II Corinthians 4:7

Think of yourself as a beautiful and functional pottery jar, filled to the brim and overflowing with the amazing goodness of God. Imagine what this world would be like if we could all pour the goodness of God over everyone we meet, each from our very special “earthenware vessel” created by the Master Potter’s own hand

You’ve heard the old saying, everything but the kitchen sink…we used it often when referring to our overly packed vehicles as we departed on vacations or camping trips. I’m not known to pack lightly, which is one reason I have an aversion to flying. When we have a vehicle, I can pack very efficiently and be prepared for just about anything.

Our recent odyssey here at home was a lot like going on a trip without packing properly. July 15, our “departure” day, was just a normal one until, in an instant, it wasn’t. Water was flowing under our kitchen floor when panic set in. I went under the sink in search of leaks, and Ken raced to the water heater, the traitorous culprit. After turning off the water, calling a plumber who drained the tank and ordered a new tank to be delivered the next day, we called it a night, thinking we only needed to pull up and replace a small amount of flooring. The water heater was installed, as promised. The plumbers recommended we call a water damage mitigator, and we did. That was when reality set in.

Give your burdens to the Lord, and he will take care of you. Psalm 55:22

It began with two days of demolition as I tried to pack breakables, and Ken followed my direction in moving various pieces of furniture and any important papers or other such items that might be needed to the primary bedroom, our new “efficiency apartment.” It was critical to get wet materials exposed so that drying could begin and to contain the amount of damage. Then we endured seven days and nights of nonstop noise from all the drying equipment, followed by two weeks with the sound of nail guns piercing the air and flooring being banged into place. The laundry was the first to be finished, two weeks after the damage occurred, and that was a real blessing. The living room was next after the flooring was completed, enabling us to escape the confines of the bedroom, and it felt a little more like home. Of course, that was also when I hurt my back, and all my activity ceased for a few days. Then we waited for cabinets to be rebuilt.

Actually, that week of not having to accommodate the contractor’s schedule was a nice little respite. We could come and go as we pleased and were able to cook some decent meals while the flurry of activity was absent from our kitchen area, which consisted of a refrigerator, stove, and a folding table for a prep surface. Anything that required water had to be carried to the bathroom. You don’t know how often you turn to the kitchen sink until you don’t have one. Our kitchen is on the west end of our home, and both bathrooms are on the east end. They couldn’t be any further apart and still be within the house. We got lots of steps in every day, especially after we were able to cook in the kitchen, albeit without cabinets or counter space.

On August 20, the cabinets were set, and the countertop specialist was scheduled to do the measurements. Once again, a few days’ wait. The measurements were taken on August 24, and we were scheduled for delivery on the 27th, a miracle in itself. One little hiccup occurred, but tops were installed as scheduled. It was day 42, and we had everything literally, but the kitchen sink and, believe me when I say, a home isn’t complete without it.

Saturday evening (last night as I’m writing on Sunday), we had running water in our kitchen for the first time in 44 days. As much as I wanted to see and touch that water, I was a little nervous to turn it on. What if it leaked? Thank the Lord and some good plumbing work, it didn’t!

I wish I could say that I was patient and a joy to be with during all those weeks, but I wasn’t. I tried hard and prayed hard to be more like Jesus. Some days, my attitude was positive and others… well, you know.

We’re not quite finished. Boxes still need to be unpacked and their contents replaced into the kitchen cabinets. I’m still pacing myself with that chore, and that’s not my style, but I want to get it done without mishap, so I’ll behave. There are still cosmetic tasks to complete and one big item: the water heater and air handler have to be removed from the mechanical room so the floor can be replaced. We’re waiting for a couple of cooler days to do that. But the kitchen is ours to do as we wish, and evidence of everyday life is present in our home again. I am so grateful, and I’m also very glad to have a forgiving Father who will want me to improve by following his guidance, but won’t hold my unpleasant moments of the past few weeks against me. Thank you, Lord!

It’s against God’s nature to remember forgiven sins…I believe in his loving forgetfulness. And I believe He has a graciously terrible memory. Max Lucado, Everyday Blessings

We humans keep brainstorming options and plans, but God’s purpose prevails. Proverbs 19:21 MSG

It would be an understatement to say that I am a big fan of TV military procedural dramas, especially those focused on Air or Naval operations. You may remember JAG (Judge Advocate General) from the mid-nineties. When it ended in 2005, I was devastated but consoled by the NCIS spin-off, which premiered in 2003 and continues today. Those two series represent twenty-three total years of television history, and I have probably seen every episode. Now I can watch them on Prime when I choose.

In addition to TV shows, I love movies like Top Gun and Hunt for Red October. Yes, I know that Hollywood versions romanticize military life and reality is a lot different, but military protocol has always been a draw for me. I like the no-nonsense crispness of it, and one thing that I think is portrayed fairly accurately onscreen is the transfer of control of a ship, sub, or plane. A handoff from the commanding officer to the second in command, or back again to the commanding officer, is very succinctly spelled out so there is no confusion and all the players are absolutely aware of who has control.

Our personal relationship with God, and in turn Jesus, is a lot like that, but while military personnel live in a world of protocols and the expectation that enlisted men and women will obey the orders of their superior officers, God waits patiently for us to relinquish control to him. It’s the age-old struggle between clinging to a desire for personal control or letting go and letting God take the reins.

God isn’t impressed by our accomplishments or distracted by our failures;

He delights in our obedient attempts. Bob Goff, Catching Whimsy

I once mentioned that a favorite devotional book of mine is Pray a Word a Day, in which a single word provides the theme for the day’s passage. This past week, I’ve experienced a word not just for a day but for the entire week. You guessed it, my word was CONTROL. It popped up everywhere I turned; in my devotional studies, Bible readings, even in our praise songs at church.

One such older hymn, It Is Well With My Soul, along with its modern counterparts, has been on an almost constant loop in my mind during this whole encounter with the subject of control. Written in the late eighteen hundreds by Horatio Spafford, It Is Well With My Soul became a favorite hymn to bolster courage during trying times. Spafford lost his only son and was then hit by a huge financial loss in the Great Chicago Fire of 1871. An economic downturn in 1873 caused even greater harm, and Spafford found himself relying heavily on God for strength. The family planned a trip to England that same year, and Horatio was kept behind by a change in business plans, but his wife and four daughters departed by ship only to be struck by another sea vessel. The ship sank in a matter of minutes, killing 226 of its passengers, including all four of Horatio’s daughters. Later he sailed to England to reunite with his wife and was able to visit the spot where his daughters drowned. He made a statement there that whatever life held for him, all would be well because of his faith. Some years later, he turned those thoughts into the hymn still recognized for its strong faith statement.

When peace like a river, attendeth my way, when sorrows like sea billows roll;

Whatever my lot, Thou hast taught me to know

It is well, it is well, with my soul.

Sunday, we incorporated the chorus of the hymn into our praise song, Holy Forever. It is also associated with another praise song that we sing, My God Is Still In Control;

Though mountains may tumble and sea billows roll,

I’ll sing it is well with my soul, My God is still in control.

(From the chorus)

Even in rough seas, we can count on Him to be always in control.

Dear Lord, thank you for giving me the strength to withstand difficulties—not the worse for wear, but better for the experience. 365 Days of Prayer by Guideposts

Let my teaching fall like rain and my words descend like dew, like showers on

new grass, like abundant rain on tender plants. Deuteronomy 32:2 NIV

These past few weeks have been ripe with opportunity for ragged negative emotions to rule the day, thus causing frustration, discouragement, and even anger. It’s in times like these that we really need to filter our thoughts before they spring forth from our mouths. I have to admit, I’ve never been good at engaging my brain before my mouth takes over. Thus, it’s easy for me to hurt others with a thoughtless remark that I would never make if I just took a moment to breathe and consider my options. It’s not my desire to be hurtful or unkind, but my mouth has a hair trigger. No, I don’t swear, but I’m too quick to ask, “Now, why did you do that?” Or perhaps, “What in the world were you thinking?” And I may occasionally raise my voice a tad. I know the moment those words leave my mouth that I should have said something encouraging or nothing at all.

Most adults know when we’ve said or done something that is less than brilliant… we don’t need a reminder. But, in the heat of the moment, too often our words tend to fuel the fire, so to speak. The past few days, God has touched my heart through a number of devotions that deal with my “foot-in-mouth” issues, and I hope I’ve picked up a few tidbits to help me.

Father, your words are the foundation of my heart’s belief. You are the ROCK on which I depend. Max Lucado

I recognize the importance of building people up rather than tearing them down, and I’ve watched others do exactly that. My husband, for instance, has a warm, wonderful way of making folks around him feel comfortable. He searches out their strengths and builds on those.

The funny thing is, I’m able to treat total strangers that way myself. I spent a number of very successful years in customer service and could turn just about any crisis into a positive outcome. Why then, do those skills not transfer to the people I care most about and spend the majority of my time with? Shouldn’t I be even more cautious and aware of their feelings? And, of course, therein lies the answer. I take their forgiveness for granted because I know they care about me and will be more likely to dismiss my outbursts of frustration and anger. Clearly, they deserve better.

And also very clearly, I need to focus on being more like Jesus. I need to measure my responses, bite my tongue when an emotional comment tries to slip out, ask myself what Jesus would say, and then hand out abundant love and kindness to everyone, strangers and those I know well.

Let your words water my thirsty mind and your love help me grow healthy relationships with others. Max Lucado

The dog days of summer still have a long way to go; I still have to baby my back and let others do the work I feel should be mine, and, barring a miracle, our kitchen won’t be back in working order for several weeks yet. I believe that means there will be lots of talks with Jesus to help me learn patience. As my battle with words continues, and I know it will, I’ll cling to my Rock and maybe, just maybe, I’ll learn something from these current battles that will stick to me for a lifetime. Maybe there is a calmer and less “worrywart” version of me lurking in this old body that can find its way to the surface. I’d really like that. Meanwhile, I’ll spend lots of time in the presence of the Rock!

A word fitly spoken is like apples of gold, in settings of silver. Proverbs 25:11 NKJV

The fear of the Lord is the instruction of wisdom, and before honor is humility. Proverbs 15:33

You may recall our tale of woe regarding the water heater overflow that destroyed a good portion of our home on July 15. Throughout the mitigation phase, reflooring, and cosmetic restoration, we’ve been living in the primary bedroom. You don’t realize the role a working kitchen plays in everyday life until you don’t have one. I missed the openness of the living room, but the kitchen is truly the heart of the home. We’ve come a long way from the days of going outside the home to collect water from a spring or stream for daily use, and I, for one, was not ready to be without the kitchen sink. But we’re managing with a much smaller bathroom sink.

Our laundry was the first room to be restored, and that was a big step forward. Our neighbor volunteered her washer and dryer, and I accepted her generosity until ours were ready for use again. This past Friday we reclaimed our living room. I was so thrilled to be able to have more space that I made a major tactical error. After working in my flowers for an hour or so, I scrubbed the new floor on my hands and knees… yes, the old-fashioned way. It needed a lot of TLC.

Our living room furniture was crammed into the open space that would someday be the kitchen once again. We had taken care to be sure that every piece had felt pads to protect our flooring and make movement easier. And one more safety measure before I began was the addition of my back brace. A while later, I felt a real sense of accomplishment as I watched our living room become a comforting space once again. I was very pleased with all I was able to complete before Ken woke up or the men arrived to continue the work. They had all said they would help, but I was anxious.

When Ken came in to help start breakfast, we busied ourselves gathering supplies and dishes. That’s a real hassle when nothing is in its proper place. As I began the daily transformation of bathroom to makeshift kitchen, I banged my toe, and my reaction to that instant pain sent additional pain spasms throughout my back. Obviously I’d overworked muscles trying to get everything just the way I’d wanted it without waiting for help. Now, I was paying the price for my pride.

I dealt with the pain for two days, but on the morning of day three, I couldn’t stand up on my own. I had to throw in the towel and pay our doctor a visit. I left there with a shot of steroid in my hip and a prescription for muscle relaxers along with an admonishment to rest and to do no lifting, pulling, or pushing. Isn’t that just great? We’re in the middle of a restoration, and I’m sidelined!

Had I exercised patience and waited for help, the injury could have been avoided, and I’d still be able to put the details of our home back into order. Now I must rest and relax my muscles, leaving all the tasks I wanted to complete for a later time. How many ways do I have to be told that we all need to accept help from one another before I get the message? We were created to be a community. In my impatience to have a portion of our living space back to normal, I made this entire process harder for everyone. I feel a lot like Paul when he stated,

“I don’t really understand myself, for I want to do what is right, but I don’t do it. Instead I do what I hate.” Romans 7:15

One thing is certain… it’s high time I turn total control of this restoration over to the Lord. And then I must remember not to pick it up and run with it again. There’s only so much this aging body can do without bringing in reinforcements. Humility is sometimes a bitter pill to swallow, but it’s intended to be a naturally occurring component of our spiritual selves. Help me, Lord, to be humble enough to call for help the next time I get in over my head…as I am certain I will!

The minute I said, “I’m slipping, I’m falling,” your love, God, took hold and held me fast. When I was upset and beside myself, you calmed me down and cheered me up. Psalm 94:18-19