O my God, many people dream of being their own boss. Thank You that I have that privilege. However, their bosses give them this Labor Day holiday off. OMG, don’t You think my mean boss should let me goof off, too?
O my God, Little Guy likes the Cubs, just like Grandpa and Daddy. He sprinted through Wrigleyville, streaking away from both! They’re also passing on their love for You, Jesus. OMG, may our grandson’s toddler faith grow to outrun us all!
O my God, when a solar eclipse invaded my childhood, I dove under my bed. (No scientific curiosity there.) Decades later, I no longer fit under beds. So today I will marvel as You direct celestial traffic with a flick of Your finger. OMG, Your power still blows me away!
O my God, thank You for a 20-mile bike ride with Hubby the past weekend. However, this Monday morning [groan], my legs refuse to move any farther than the coffee pot. Still, OMG, smiles from that fun afternoon will go the distance!
O my God, I loved teaching at Taylor University’s writing conference last weekend. Students listened. Didn’t swing from light fixtures or explode cherry bombs. Yet I’m bushed! OMG, perhaps I should pray more for teachers starting their school year?
O my God, You are brave, allowing us freedom of expression. All these heated political attacks! OMG, wouldn’t they be cooled considerably if before saying a word, snarling opponents were required by law to eat big-scoop ice cream cones?
O my God, every morning is fresh and lovely as if You, the Artist, stayed up all night just to surprise us. The trees, with lush greenness, shifting shadows and sunshine, shout, “Hallelujah!” OMG, borrowing Your air, I just have to join in.
O my God, my life is so crazy right now that if somebody stole my identity, I’d thank them! Then sneak off to Bongo Bongo and eat chocolate in anonymous bliss. But You have better plans for me? Well . . . okay — as long as You, OMG, hold my hand.
O my God, so far, my husband has discussed the state of our camper’s spare tire and the stock market, the Chicago Cubs’ woes, and sixth-century Boethius’ theology. OMG, thank You for Hubby’s astute mind. But first, may I pour my second cup of coffee?