O Lord, You know we finally relegated our ancient phones, along with our landline, to the trash. OMG, I’m so glad You and Your love are the same as when I gabbed on the 1967 Princess Phone my parents unwisely allowed in my bedroom.
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.
Jesus, Thanks You for fall’s cool, crisp air, fresh as if You just created it. The orange harvest moon, an enormous pumpkin, perches on the horizon. And I love way You’re beginning to decorate the Indiana countryside as if You’re going wild with your paintbrush. OMG, You are making the transition to winter glorious. Maybe I should celebrate my autumn years with crazy joy too?
Jesus, so glad You traveled with me to Louisiana, where I was blown away by an excellent writing conference in New Orleans; bayous, sugar cane fields and shrimp po’ boys in Cajun country; and fun times with piney woods cousins. And thank You that, despite my superpower for getting lost, I kept one step ahead of the hurricane … mostly.
Image by Clkr-Free-Vector Images by Pixabay
Father, You know I am so much better at gathering stuff to pack than actually packing it. Much, much better. By the time I hit the airport, forget paying for an extra suitcase. OMG, will I need an extra plane?
Lord, after several days as a sneezing, hacking, sofa-bound Snuffleupagus, a walk around the block with my guy felt like one in Eden. OMG, thank You.
O Jesus, You know that in May and June, I fought hard in the Weed Wars. But now, it’s August. OMG, maybe I, like those who rule highway medians, can declare my yard a “native prairie preservation project”?
Father, Thank You for an abundant squash harvest I continue to slice, dice, sauté, steam, freeze, bake and pickle. Yet, I realize I’m not the only cook who’s dealt with one-item menus. During the biblical exodus, Israelite cooks probably made manna bread, manna pie, manna fritters, manna casseroles and manna sloppy joes as they wandered in the desert. OMG … will my squash barrage last for 40 years too?
OMG, When Hubby and I find ourselves between a rock and a hard place, please help us always find the beauty.
Father, after several months, I still puzzle over these signs. First, a road was closed that hasn’t attracted the first road worker or bulldozer. Second, why are pedestrians encouraged to detour onto this road when nothing in our neighborhood is closed? OMG, it seems those in charge haven’t a clue where they’re going. Do they want to ensure that no one else does, either?
