Walking the Line of Faith
Have you ever watched a tightrope walker? It's fascinating how they maintain their balance, shifting their weight ever so slightly from one side to the other. One wrong move could spell disaster. I often feel like that tightrope walker in my spiritual life, especially when it comes to finding the balance between doing and waiting.
Just yesterday, I sat at my desk, staring at a blank document on my computer screen. I had a Bible study to prepare, several blog posts due, and ministry correspondence waiting for responses. The weight of responsibility pressed heavily on my shoulders. Should I forge ahead with my plans, or was God trying to tell me to wait? Was my drive to complete these tasks stemming from my perfectionist nature, or was it truly God's leading?
Not-So-Merry Melodies
I never thought I'd say this, but last night, Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer gave me nightmares. No, I'm not kidding! Jason and I were exploring different Christmas playlists on YouTube, seeking some festive background music while we worked. We stumbled upon what promised to be "Epic Christmas Arrangements," and wow, what a mixed bag that turned out to be!
Some of them were breathtaking, like the gorgeous orchestral version of "O Holy Night" that gave me goosebumps. But then things took a turn. Picture, if you will, "Jingle Bells" transformed into something that sounds like it belongs in a horror movie. The tune clicked and whirred like a broken music box from some abandoned Victorian nursery. The jolly "ho-ho-ho" became a sinister echo, and those cheerful jingling bells morphed into an ominous warning of impending doom.
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!
Staying Connected When Life Goes Dark
As a missionary in the beautiful, yet often rainy and windy, country of Wales, I've become quite the expert at walking into rooms and flipping light switches that I know full well won't work. I've also mastered the art of trying to wash my hands with water that isn't flowing, followed by the classic "Oh, right!" moment of realization. It's amazing how many times in a single day a person can forget there's no power or water!
Last week's storm brought a special kind of challenge. Instead of one prolonged power outage (which I could have handled with dignity and grace... maybe), we experienced what I like to call the "disco light special" – power flickering on and off throughout the day. Each time the power returned, I'd dash around the house like a contestant on a game show, resetting clocks, checking the heating, and most importantly, coaxing our temperamental internet router back to life.
Tiny Treasures
I thought we had won. After weeks of setting traps and securing every nook and cranny of our Welsh cottage, the unwelcome mouse that had taken up residence seemed to have moved on. The victory was ours! Or so I thought until the other morning when I opened the pantry door.
There he sat, bold as brass, perched atop the shelf with my favorite chocolates. The little thief had gnawed through the wrappers and was helping himself to my precious stash! We locked eyes for a moment—me in horror, him in what I'm pretty sure was smug satisfaction—before we both fled in opposite directions. He scurried into his hidden passage while I slammed the door and retreated to the safety of my office, mourning the loss of my chocolate comfort.