Day Twenty
Good afternoon! It's the first day of summer and already I feel like it's been a long one. How about you? Does it seem like it should be closer to 4:00 pm than 1:00 pm? Yeah, I think so too.
Wonder what it is about time that makes it either go so slowly or too quickly? I guess that depends upon our attitudes toward upcoming events. For instance, when it's time to go home, to play, to be with our special ones, the time can't get here soon enough, right? But when homework, housework, duties, drudgeries, and the like are to be done the time seems to inch by second by long second.
Today's verses are from Micah 7:18-19. Read them with me? Thanks!
Who is a God like you, pardoning iniquity and passing over transgression for the remnant of His inheritance?He does not retain His anger forever, because He delights in steadfast love.He will again have compassion on us; He will tread our iniquities underfoot.You will cast all our sins into the depths of the sea.
Did you notice how Micah begins talking about God to talking to Him? Sometimes I'm like that; I'll use offhanded remarks when speaking of the Lord and then realize, hey: He's actually here, beside of me, listening to what I say and what I wish I'd said. I go from thinking about what He could do versus what He's really doing right now, this moment, as well as what He will do in the future--such as casting my sins in the depths of the sea. Pretty groovy, huh?
Timing is everything. From remembering the past glories of God to the future promises He made for us, His timing is always perfect. He won't stay mad forever (and yes, friends, He does get angry). He delights in love, compassion abounds in Him towards us, and those sins, trespasses, iniquities or whatever label we want to put on the things we do wrong? Those too will be trampled under His feet! They haven't been yet, for we keep on giving Him things to stomp out. But one day, one time soon, He will come and get us, redeem us to perfection, and take us home. I don't know when that time will be, but I'm impatient for it. Hope you are too!
Let's pray!
Ahh, Lord, the singers of the group Chicago once asked "Does anybody really know what time it is?" Styx sang of it being "The Best of Times" while Cyndi Lauper crooned about "Time After Time." Green Day wished for us to have "The time of our lives" while Michael Bolton crooned of "Time, Love, and Tenderness." And of course, Lord, good ol' Bing Crosby sings of "The Most Wonderful Time of the Year" as he leads us into the Christmas season. And there's the The Alan Parsons Project that wistfully sing of time flowing like a river, to the sea.
Father (why did my fingers want to type "Father Time" ??), none of us knows when that "Shouting Time" that The Hoppers sang of will arrive; none but You, that is. So many of us are waiting, watching, and wondering Lord how much longer that will be. Grant to us patience, I ask, and help us to make the most of each moment You give to us and then, in due season, come and get us. We want to see You, Lord God. We want to revel in Your love and promises as they come to fruition and we see what You have prepared for us, sure, but mostly Father, we want to see You. We want to know so many things that there just isn't time to glean down here on earth but that will be answered once we reach the other side of eternity.
Come quickly, Lord? May it be so!
Day Ten
Bless his heart. Had not enough bad stuff already happened to him today, this week? I mean, seriously, how much was one kid supposed to take?
It all--well, not all, but at least the latest incident to damage the poor child's calm--happened after supper was almost over. Ever the warrior, my precious middle gson had his sword at the ready. PawPaw though, being oh-so-wise and on the lookout for potential disaster (did I mention the youngest gson was in his arms, often ready to take what his brothers are playing with and claim for his own?) found the ideal spot for the sword. He placed it in an opening in C's chair, still within arm's reach, and ready for him to pick up once his macaroni and steak bites were eaten.
And then? BAM! One wrong move and the sword somehow wound up being nearly extracted, hitting my sweet and unprepared love in his arm, making a sting that made him feel as though he had been attacked.
"PawPaw!" he cried, and his eyes were so full of tears, wrath, and anger. "This is all your fault!" Rubbing his arm and eyes, he glared with the fury of a thousand jungle beasts at Steve, who was trying not to laugh and cry at the same time as he felt C's pain but also at the hilarity of--once again (nearly always?)--being blamed for when something goes wrong.
We tried explaining to him that he couldn't blame others when situations turned on him. We told him how the sword had sat there for many minutes without it bothering him so how could it possibly be PawPaw's fault? I told him he couldn't blame him for this accident. Through his rivers of tears and pain and frustration at being "attacked" again, he cried out "I don't even know what "blame" means!"
Oh my heart! This forty-pound, five-year-old, wee bundle of all things great, good, and lovable was disconsolable until it all made sense and sank in his tiny little brain. Brushing aside his tears, smiling once again, and ready to play, he took off to join his brother in the circle of fun when only a couple of minutes later BAM! Another accident caused him to explode in a fit of fury as he felt the sting of a board brushing against his back as his brother had innocently thrown it without paying good attention to where it might land. C was ready to fight, to scream, to pound out his indignation but there was Granny, once again, stepping in to explain that it was indeed an accident but that W did need to go further than his off-the-cuff "Sorry" and show his brother some real concern. He went over to him, arms outstretched, the "I'm really sorry. Will you forgive me" spiel on his lips. But poor little C had had a rough week, as mentioned above. He'd been "I'm sorried" one time too many, had too many "accidents" that needed forgiven, and it was the night before he was to graduate kindergarten and his emotions were stretched to the max.
As W's arms enveloped his younger brother's, Con Man's were outstretched as well. The difference though was when contact was made, he began "beating" his brother's back, trying to make him feel some of the pain he had just experienced. Again telling him it was an accident, I interceded, and the fight went out from him as he heard the truth, as he felt his brother's contriteness and his need to reconcile. They hugged as they so often do and squeezed and began to giggle and wrestle and went on about their business. Once again fellowship was restored and the hurt forgotten.
Today's verses kind of deal with this. Read them with me, from Colossians 3:12-13:
"Put on then, as God's chosen ones, holy and beloved, compassionate hearts, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience, bearing with one another and, if one has a complaint against another, forgiving each other; as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive."
These kids have already forgiven each other so so many times--with many more to come in the future, I have no doubt. How I admire their willingness to acknowledge the hurts, the infractions, the sins, and to deal with them. Compassionately. Kindly. With meekness when they know they are to blame for the other's pain. With patience when they see that the other needs to kick and scream a little before restoration takes place but bearing with that other one, and then allowing the forgiveness to run its course. Although they don't realize this life lesson they are not just learning but practising, they are setting the stage for future "accidents" and "on purpose" events that they will have to make the choice to forgive or to harbor bitterness in their souls.
May they always choose forgiveness is my prayer. They teach me so much! Thank You, God, for my grandsons. Through them, I learn so much about Your love for me. May I be more childlike in my faith and walk with Christ is my hope, asked in His name. Amen.
