Jesus, relics fill our home. The clock passed down by my husband’s great-grandparents. The cross fashioned by my cousin from the last tree my 90yo, ax-wielding father chopped. A candle holder created by my brother. Two cheerful bird masterpieces drawn by our grandchildren. All reside on the piano my husband bought me after he graduated from medical school. OMG, my cup — and our house — runneth over with blessings.
Father, You know that when I had to give up my two-pot-a-day coffee habit, all mankind — especially my smart husband — avoided me. But when I think of those who cultivate, harvest and package the decaf tea I now consume, OMG, I’m thankful that when You say no to one thing, You already plan to say yes to another good thing.
Image by Jan Helebrant from Pixabay.
Lord, You know I’ve lived in a few odd homes — a studio apartment with passage to the bathroom through the closet; two rooms in the back of a church (we were a family of six); and ditto, in a thatch hut. Thank You, Jesus, for our current normal house. As we age, though, Lord, we wonder what the future will hold. A move nearer our kids? A retirement center? A nursing home? OMG, thank You that wherever we lay our heads, we are always at home with You.
Images by Królestwo Nauki and OpenClipart-Vector from Pixabay