It’s pouring buckets outside. In fact, the storm started with such ferocity that it woke us up.
I only mention this because it’s the first rainstorm we’ve had since I moved here six months ago. (Okay, 5 1/2.)
Rainstorms and Christmas music just don’t jive, in my Northeast opinion. Neither do flip-flops (outside) and Christmas lights, paper snowflakes and blooming poppies, or snowmen and farmer’s markets. I mean, really.
That said, I totally understand why people love it here. Aside from the occasional earthquake, mudslide, and [not so occasional] uncontrollable fire, there’s not much to complain about. As hard as it is for me to feel much Christmas spirit on an afternoon of sunshine and high 60s, I can’t say I mind walking to the grocery store in a long-sleeved t-shirt.
Part of why I don’t mind is that I know I’m going to get my Christmas fix in less than a week. Yes, I am flying home. If it weren’t for that word “flying”, I’d say I’m totally excited.
But I’m supposed to be working on my attitude about all that, right?
Actually, Ryan found me a non-stop flight that is less than 5 hours long. That means zero possibility of me missing a connection! Yes, yes, yes!
That non-stop flight will bring Jameson and me to Washington D.C., where I will meet my parents and attend the services for Christian Skoglund. This is due to my husband’s generosity, and I’m so thankful to be able to go. So thankful.
I’ve been reading through the Samuels. I try to read out loud to Jameson. He doesn’t necessarily listen, but he at least hears me, as he plays in the kitchen cupboards while I sit and have my devotions. Anyway, today brought me to 2 Samuel 11.
Does anyone else absolutely shudder — and maybe even want to change their reading plan to, say, Philemon — when they read that first verse, “Then it happened in the spring, at the time when kings to out to battle…”
Oh, I cringe every time. I get a pit in my stomach. It’s like watching a movie, and suddenly the music tells of coming doom, and you pull the afghan over your head and screech, “Tell me when it’s over!” Only it’s hard to do the whole afghan thing when you’re reading.
Anyway, today (and truth be told, yesterday, because I knew this chapter was coming and I’d already been thinking about it), I thought again of what safety there is in just doing what you’re supposed to do.
Sometimes I get bored. Sometimes I feel like I’m in a desert. Sometimes I wonder, if I just changed things up a little bit, maybe I’d feel better. Sometimes I get tired of my responsibilities. Sometimes I get weary in well-doing. Sometimes I just don’t feel like it.
But so many times, I’ve heard the Spirit remind me: Just do what you’re supposed to do. Make sure that when He finds you, He finds you where you are supposed to be.
If you’re the king, do what kings are supposed to do. If you’re a mom, do what moms are supposed to do.
And whatever you do, DON’T GO FOR A WALK ON THE ROOF!
(I assume that’s the moral of the story, right? No? Oh.)