My husband and I are buying a new house. Well, new to us. It’s actually over 100 years old. Reading an inspection report on a home that was built in the early 1900’s can be a bit overwhelming. Time has a way of wearing things down.
In the classic question of do you want to know the good news or bad news, I tend to want to know the good news. In fact, if you tell me the bad news, I’ll probably try find a way to see how it will work out for the good.
I was never afraid of the dark. As a little girl I loved lying in bed in a dark room watching the night sky out of my bedroom window. We lived in the country so there was no light from buildings, street lamps, or cars. Just quiet darkness.
It’s been over 30 years, but I still remember him. His name was Rick, and he helped lead our class of Jr. High boys at church. Rick was a practical guy; he had a “use it or lose it” mentality towards things in his life.
We carry them like stones in our pockets. Throughout the day we hold them in our hands and rub the rough edges with our thumb. We pick them up without even thinking. Carry them with us where ever we go. Worries. Cares. Anxieties.
She sat on the bed, the anger still slowly simmering like a pot of hot water that had just overflowed. We started talking about the root of the frustration that had brought us both to this place.
Sometimes I wonder how different my life would be if I were as willing to repent as God is to forgive. I’ve been known to carry the weight of conviction around with me a lot longer than I should.
Their story has captivated me the last few weeks. As a dad I can’t even fathom the idea of my son stuck deep in a flooded cave with his teammates and coach, days of wondering if he was even alive.
"Promise you'll never leave me. " It's a question that's probably been asked a million times. I know I've asked it. And it has been asked of me. In sweet moments of love we may have made that promise.
As she blew out those candles I couldn’t help but think about the countless nights and long days we spent wishing, waiting, praying for her to finally come home. Just a few years ago we were still separated by 9,000 miles and even more miles of red tape keeping us from being a family united.