For a While She Tried to say Nothing; But Now She May Have Something Nice To Say

Yesterday I was feeling quite discouraged. Quite negative with splashes of angry, and a good, solid heaping serving of self-pity. I know what I said a few posts ago about not going with the blessing theory.... but.... I do recognize when a gal needs prayer from people bigger than herself to a God who is bigger than us all. And although there was nothing majorly wrong- no terminal diagnoses , no tsunamis, or blunt traumas.... there still was an impressive stack of small annoyances to wear a girl down. The flu(s). The breaking appliances. The bernina repair guy way behind on his work.

So, I dragged a million or fewer preschoolers a block or two over to the church and asked some people to please pray for me. They are always willing. And its so soothing to have those hands on my lap, and on my shoulders, and know that this support exists for someone with as little faith as myself.

We spent the afternoon laying down to the tune of Stuart Little and I wondered if I'd ever have energy again. So completely tired have I been, that I remembered well the challenges of growing fetuses with the accompaniment of a sour stomach. Bleh. Any of you woman who are currently growing small people- never let anyone minimize how much it takes out of you. Smack anyone who laughs and says something trite like: "Oh, you'll survive". Actually, if you like, I'd be willing to smack them for you.

But I digress.

One of the women from above- the kind with more faith than what I could offer... was brave enough to deliver her sewing machine to my house. She knew well that she was taking some sort of giant risk with this loan. She said that the machine had been serviced and that she'd whispered a prayer over it before leaving that singer at my house. The house that kills small animals, most plants, and anything that plugs in.

And so, there it sat in its case. I was too tired to take it out- which in my world means that I was very near terminal.

But something happened in the early evening, as I felt a wee bit of energy flowing into my bones. So, I took out the machine and sat down at her and began to sing with Lisa's Singer. I had bundled cut-out bag pieces during my sad interim before the flu, but after my bernina went belly up. I began very cautiously, not knowing what would break first- my spurt of energy, or the third sewing machine. But she whirred. And I got in the zone. I think I sewed from 7:00 til 11:00 pm. And Singer was still singing.

I don't like it when people mention a string of positive things and then finish off with "God is good". Not because God isn't good, but because if He is good, then He is good all the time. He's not just good when things are good with me. He's not bad if things are bad with me. It's really not all about me. But when good things happen, I like God to get the credit. I believe in the force of good. I believe that force is more powerful than its counterpart.

And I believe that God would want food aid to get to Darfur. Now we are hearing more reports about the world food shortage, and the UN needing to make the difficult decision to cut back food aid to Darfur by 40%. So, I'd really like to increase giving to Darfur by 40%. And I'm going to need God in all this.

That's just the way it is. Don't ask me to explain every detail of it, because I can't.
And that's the nice thing that I have to say today.