O Lord, I’m sure You remember my griping to You about road construction last summer. Griping out LOUD. OMG, I’m so glad You—and the workers—didn’t listen.
Father, thank You for a church who can turn a business meeting into a warm, loving family affair. Though, OMG, two tables of desserts probably sweetened things.
O Lord, what a wonderful way to celebrate the New Year with these little guys, dancing to fun music, blowing squawky noise makers and bopping lighted balloons! OMG, thank You, too, that their parents counted down the “final” seconds of 2022 at 8 p.m. so the boys — and we — could go to bed.
O Lord, You recall that when we got married, Steve was a freshman medical student. I didn’t have a job. We hadn’t seen each other in five months. Father, You could have had us committed. (Our parents thought about it.)
Instead, OMG, You have walked with us, every step, for 48 years. Thank You that our crazy love grows crazier — and better — every year.
O Lord, wasn’t it just yesterday when we were shaking in our shoes, hoarding batteries and drinking water as the new millennium loomed? Yet, You brought us through, as You always do. OMG, thank You that new possibilities don’t scare You. And because of that, we can celebrate 2023!
O Lord, I learned that on Boxing Day — December 26 — British aristocrats rewarded those who waited on them during Christmas, giving servants boxes of gifts and money. Only fair, right? But, Father, I’m just as glad Americans don’t celebrate it. With our definition of “boxing,” OMG, those who have tired of relatives just might don gloves for mean Monday night smackdowns.
O Lord, when will we learn not to procrastinate?! This year, our Christmas tree is a Charlie Brown special. I even named it “Charlie”! But once decorated with loving hands, Charlie shines. OMG, how thankful we are that when no one chooses us, You do — and Jesus can make us spindly, crooked souls more beautiful than can be imagined.
Father, thank You for all young musicians who once squeaked, squawked and pounded through “Hot Cross Buns,” but now play beautiful music. And OMG, thank You most of all for parents who paid for lessons … though, at times, they were tempted to pay their kids to quit.
O Lord, all things pumpkin spice have disappeared from grocery shelves as if stolen during the night by elves! I’m almost down to my last bagel. But, OMG, if celebrating Your birth means switching to Christmas cookies, I think I can adjust.
O Lord, this Thanksgiving, we give special thanks that our family knows You through Jesus. How good and pleasant it is when brothers dwell in unity! (Psalm 133:1)—OMG, even if that togetherness is expressed through breakneck air hockey, euchre, Ping-Pong, and tossing sponge burritos at our relatives.