Learning to Unload Before We Overload
Life in rural Wales comes with its own peculiar challenges, not the least of which is grocery shopping. When the nearest proper supermarket is a good thirty minutes away, online ordering becomes less of a convenience and more of a necessity. Jason and I have our system down to a science. The delivery arrives in stackable plastic crates, we unload everything, and then return the empty crates to the driver.
We even have our division of labor sorted. Jason tackles the refrigerated and frozen items while I handle the pantry goods. It works seamlessly... well, most of the time.
During our most recent delivery, Jason gestured toward what appeared to be a single crate sitting on our kitchen table. "That's all pantry stuff," he said casually, already turning his attention to the cold goods.
I nodded, reaching for the handles of what I presumed was one solitary crate. I'd taken precisely two steps when physics delivered a painful lesson.
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).
When Success Looks Like Failure
This week, I read about a man in ministry who dedicated his entire lifetime to his mission field. He did everything God asked of him and preached with passion and conviction. Day after day, year after year, he faithfully delivered God's message.
However, after a lifetime of service, this devoted minister had no converts to show for his efforts. Not one soul saved. Not a single person who repented of their sins and accepted the message he preached.
Many would look at this man and shake their heads in pity or, worse, ridicule. Armchair critics would be quick to make assessments:
"Perhaps he didn't preach hard enough."
"Maybe his heart wasn't right with God."
"He probably used the wrong outreach methods."
"His theology must have been flawed."
After all, if he had been doing things correctly, surely someone would have responded!
The Lord of Breakthroughs
Have you ever felt like you were fighting the same battle over and over again? I certainly have! Whether it's my physical limitations from fibromyalgia or the spiritual heaviness that sometimes settles over Wales, there are days when I wonder if I'll ever see victory.
David knew that feeling all too well. In 2 Samuel 5, we find him facing a familiar foe in a familiar place. The Bible tells us, "But when the Philistines heard that they had anointed David king over Israel, all the Philistines came up to seek David" (2 Samuel 5:17). The Philistines—again! And where did they set up camp? In the Valley of Rephaim, otherwise known as the Valley of Giants.
This wasn't David's first rodeo in this valley. The Philistines had a nasty habit of gathering there to attack Israel. Same enemy. Same battlefield. Different day.
