Curveballs
Sometimes life throws you curveballs. I've had a few lately, like our neighbors cars blocking the way for the truck during our move, one of our moving helpers getting stuck in the elevator, and the faucet to hook up the washing machine leaking. I felt pretty self conscious randomly buzzing people asking if they happened to own the grey Renault parked out front. We had to call a repairman for the elevator. I have no idea how I'm going to fix the faucet - and we'd really like to do some laundry. But that's what I do, whiff at curveballs. I tore a huge gash in our linoleum moving our refrigerator, whiff. Our phone doesn't work at either apartment now, whiff.
May deals with the stress by working harder. That makes me stressed. I've got to sit and do nothing, or write, or watch a movie, or sleep a long long time. I don't know when that's going to happen. Our living room is a jumbled mess, filled with boxes and haphazard furniture. My clothes are all sitting in a suitcase. This is only a phase, normal will come.
Where does my help come from? My help comes from the maker of heaven and earth. My muscles are so sore it hurts to stand. I'm sleeping poorly even though I'm beyond exhausted. Does God ever feel sore or get tired? Nope. He's holding every molecule together at this moment, listening carefully to every prayer, hearing expectations, shouldering every complaint. He never needs to sleep, provides life to us, and is certainly capable enough to help me repair a leaky faucet. I say this because I have an abhorrent fear of plumbing and of trying to find things in foreign countries.
