Ever been in the cooler? I personally have yet to be arrested but friends of mine were in boarding school for cutting down a tree on military property. I don't know who sprung them from their Christmas spruce escapade but it wasn't me. I also declined joining their their snow leopard hunt. I don't feel loss that I never added some female power to their two man adventures.
Though I've never been to jail I've been inside a few. In college we took food to different shelters that felt like jails when they were on lock down. My home, with hubby gone, the temps a-soaring, Zana sporting an infection, and me not sleeping felt a little like jail. I am working towards more obedient joy. Glorying in my God gifted reality and let me tell you today was a shiner!
We left the house to exercise early this morning. I pop the two kiddos in our hand me down dinosaur stroller and soldier abroad. It is glorious. We live in the middle of the city and we walk by a small restaurant/chai stall/dairy on the way. As all sorts zoom by my kids watch the milking process. To get in and out of our gate we have to displace a set of buckets covering the gulley floor in front of our gate. Our building's pump supplies clean water to over a hundred people daily.
We make it across a busy street and back all intact and home again where I don't leave for the rest of the day. I talked with a half dozen people and greeted twice that many to and from exercise but having eaten our banana bread breakfast I am now stuck at home.
Here is how the day played out. I had 10 people come through my door. I shared the gospel in its entirety with one. I discussed a story about Jesus with two other ladies around chai. I got to do a puppet craft with my kids and three other little girls when I should have been making dinner. I danced to music. I yelled at my kids. I talked to a friend who lives a world away in the same city. I laughed. I ate good. I never felt lonely. I listened to my neighbors upstairs yelling in their hallway. I taught school. I spilled oil on my brand new kameez. I made popcorn. I drank black coffee with an Indian friend and got to watch her face and hear her honest response. We laughed.
I had a great day. Truly great. To one man life might feel like jail but to another it may feel like a gift, a gift freely given by a good Father.
From Pollyanna, here across the Pond, that's all folks!
Though I've never been to jail I've been inside a few. In college we took food to different shelters that felt like jails when they were on lock down. My home, with hubby gone, the temps a-soaring, Zana sporting an infection, and me not sleeping felt a little like jail. I am working towards more obedient joy. Glorying in my God gifted reality and let me tell you today was a shiner!
We left the house to exercise early this morning. I pop the two kiddos in our hand me down dinosaur stroller and soldier abroad. It is glorious. We live in the middle of the city and we walk by a small restaurant/chai stall/dairy on the way. As all sorts zoom by my kids watch the milking process. To get in and out of our gate we have to displace a set of buckets covering the gulley floor in front of our gate. Our building's pump supplies clean water to over a hundred people daily.
We make it across a busy street and back all intact and home again where I don't leave for the rest of the day. I talked with a half dozen people and greeted twice that many to and from exercise but having eaten our banana bread breakfast I am now stuck at home.
Here is how the day played out. I had 10 people come through my door. I shared the gospel in its entirety with one. I discussed a story about Jesus with two other ladies around chai. I got to do a puppet craft with my kids and three other little girls when I should have been making dinner. I danced to music. I yelled at my kids. I talked to a friend who lives a world away in the same city. I laughed. I ate good. I never felt lonely. I listened to my neighbors upstairs yelling in their hallway. I taught school. I spilled oil on my brand new kameez. I made popcorn. I drank black coffee with an Indian friend and got to watch her face and hear her honest response. We laughed.
I had a great day. Truly great. To one man life might feel like jail but to another it may feel like a gift, a gift freely given by a good Father.
From Pollyanna, here across the Pond, that's all folks!
No comments:
Post a Comment