Jesus, shouldn’t these tomatoes have ripened, like, in August? They haven’t listened to me (‘STUPID TOMATOES, WHY DON’T YOU TURN RED?!!) Maybe I should have been a little more polite. Anyway, I’m thankful Your sun doesn’t give up on late bloomers and producers … and that Your Son doesn’t give up on me.
O Lord, when my small children ran to me bawling about some crucial disaster, such as an empty Count Chocula box or lost Barbie shoe, I didn’t always sympathize. After all, I had adult things to do and a schedule to keep.
Image by Dimitris Versikas
But OMG, when I run to You, snotty and sniveling, I’m thankful You always welcome me onto Your big lap — and help me grow up a little more.