Jesus, thank You for a Ranger-roaring good time with my big brother, zooming around the Indiana hills like teenagers. For a brother-sister tour of his Eden-like garden. And OMG, thank You for his hospitable, patient wife who put up with a couple of adolescents in her home.
Lord, You have always loved the lilies of the field. I’m sure You, like I, look forward to them every summer — flowers that don’t complain because people call them weeds. They’re not fauna divas that have to be pampered, but bloom like they can’t wait to show off Your glory. OMG, when I grow demanding and fussy like my roses, wave a few of these in front of my nose, okay?
Jesus, when You camped out—as You probably did a lot—You probably grew tired of the work of setting up and breaking down. You didn’t always fix the weather, though You could have. Did You and the disciples also fight mosquitoes and have to do (ugh) 0tick checks? But OMG, did one cozy night around the campfire, one view of Your masterpieces of nature, refresh You too?
O Lord, thank You for ruffles of green lettuce that portend fresh salads for supper. For little Roma tomatoes that vow we won’t have to eat store-bought, pink-plastic fare for long. For blackberry blossoms that promise a future yummy pie. OMG, I’d love for You for wave a magic wand. Make it happen without weeding. But is the wait-watch-and-work part of Your gift to us?
O Lord, how do two adults generate so many dirty clothes? In the beginning, Adam and Eve only laundered their own skins. But because of the Fall, we have to wash, dry and fold more than fig leaves. OMG, is there any way I can farm out these Monday morning piles to the laundromat — and send A & E the bill?
#Laundry #Neverlistentosnakes
