When Plans Go Pear-Shaped
Have you ever had one of those days where Murphy's Law isn't just a saying but your personal reality? Jason and I experienced that miserable phenomenon this week. It began with my writing. Every task I attempted was met with utter frustration. What should have taken a couple of minutes ended up taking over an hour. It seemed like no matter which way I turned, I encountered a stumbling block or a brick wall. Seriously?
When we finally surrendered to the technological gremlins and decided to take our daily walk with Tess, the Welsh weather joined the conspiracy. The moment we stepped outside, the clouds unleashed what felt like the entire Irish Sea upon our heads. Lovely!
"It's just a light drizzle," Jason said optimistically as we trudged along, our clothes growing heavier with each step. By the time we made it home, we resembled three drowned rats (though Tess, admittedly, looked the most pitiful).
Daily Bread Vs. Special Treats
I couldn't help but laugh at my clever canine yesterday as she demonstrated both her intelligence and her rottenness. Tess adores her wobble Kong—a treat-dispensing toy that rolls and tumbles with each nudge. Usually, I fill it with her regular kibble, but yesterday, I decided to add a few special treats to make it more exciting.
What followed was nothing short of comical. Like a furry tornado, Tess batted that Kong from room to room, leaving a trail of perfectly good kibble in her wake. She had one mission: extract only the special treats. The regular food? Not worth her time, at least not initially. I watched in amazement as she meticulously picked out every single treat, ignoring the "boring" kibble scattered throughout the house.
Eventually, hunger won out over pickiness, and she returned to clean up the trail of regular food she'd previously deemed unworthy. As I watched her methodically clean up her mess, I couldn't help but see a spiritual parallel.
A New Year’s Look Both Ways
I'm convinced my neck will be sore tomorrow. No, I haven't been doing any strange exercises or sleeping in an awkward position. I've simply been doing what most of us do this time of year—looking backwards and forward so much that I'm starting to feel like an owl!
The transition between years always seems to trigger this response in us, doesn't it? We find ourselves simultaneously reflecting on the past year's events while peering anxiously into the unknown future. It's like trying to watch two tennis matches at once. It's exhausting but somehow impossible to resist.
As I look back over 2024, I can't help but smile at God's faithfulness. Sure, there were trials. My health issues didn't suddenly disappear, and our ministry in Wales continues to be challenging. But nestled between those difficulties were countless blessings: new friendships formed at the chapel, breakthrough moments in Bible study, and even Tess learning not to bark at every dog that passes our bungalow (well, almost).
Life’s Little Luxuries
Have you ever noticed how quickly we can go from feeling blessed to feeling stressed? Take, for instance, our recent adventure with the fierce storm that wreaked havoc on our area. It not only knocked out our power but also damaged a water pump somewhere along our line. And just like that—no water!
The water company, bless their hearts, sent out a message early Saturday morning explaining the situation and promising to have everything sorted by afternoon. Spoiler alert: it wasn't. Then they assured us it would be fixed by evening. Again, no dice. This merry-go-round of promises continued through Sunday and into Monday, leaving us feeling rather like contestants on a survival reality show.
You don't truly appreciate the miracle of indoor plumbing until you're hauling buckets of borrowed water just to flush the toilet!
From “If Only” to “Thank You”
Have you ever caught yourself saying, "If only I had done this" or "If only I had said that"? I know I have. It's easy to get caught up in the "if only" game, especially when facing a difficult situation or looking back on a mistake we've made.
But here's the thing about "if only”—it's a trap. It keeps us stuck in the past, dwelling on what could have been instead of focusing on what is. And it can rob us of the joy and peace God wants us to have in the present.
That's why I'm trying to replace "if only" with two different words: “Thank you.” Instead of dwelling on what could have been, I'm choosing to be thankful for what is. And I'm finding that it makes all the difference.