Good Like a Medicine

You know, it’s so easy to complain. I do it probably too much. I’m getting better, but it usually only takes me about two minutes in the morning to forget God and start complaining about the most trivial matter. Well, today I just want to say I’m empty-handed. I don’t have a single complaint. I am sitting at my desk (messy desk, actually) with my laptop, design books and magazines, papers and project notes, staring up and outside a huge window that overlooks our street. All I can see is a huge oak tree enveloped by a friendly mixture of hardwoods and the tips of the Crape Myrtles at the edge of our yard. The sky is a brilliant, whimsical blue, and the pregnant clouds are receding just slowly enough for me to make a dragon or a boot. (Why is it always a dragon or a boot?)

Most days I could write out my contentment in the afternoons and chuckle at myself. “Sure you are. Try saying that later when happy-hour is meltdown-hour!” Ha. But today truly has been a marvelous day - inside and out. Lydia and Steven have been so tender to each other, even though Steven seemed to have woken up on the rotten side of the bed. All of my efforts to turn their attention towards kind words and Christlike gentleness have been blessed with the truest, happy response. I smiled more. We made bread, cleaned, and worked on some Scripture and alphabet lessons together. Even Meredith participated in today’s lesson: the letter “M.” “Mmm” is so easy and funny to say, and all three of them wouldn’t stop laughing at how Meredith kept saying, “Mmmmmm.” I laughed pretty hard. Later a spanking was given, and it made my heart sink to have to give it, but that precious heart could not have received the discipline any better. The discipline was blessed by God, and it did not threaten the happiness of our morning at all. We rolled in the floor laughing at all the different ways we could crash Steven’s cars into the bottom of his bed, and the most beautiful, bright orange butterfly visited us on a bush for at least two minutes near our porch while we played in the driveway and grabbed the mail. I have worked inside my home and felt the very near presence of God, so much so that I almost cannot contain the joy.

The day started out dark, and a phone call threatened to loom over us when Eric learned that his car repair was going to be a pretty (or should I say ‘ugly?’) penny from our wallet. But you know, when things like that happen, if I just smile and think, “God already knew this. He already knew, and He’s going to be faithful,” then it is so easy not to complain. It is almost incomprensible how God turns a sinking heart into the fullest well of joy, isn’t it? The blood of Jesus is a cleansing elixir.

I just felt like I needed to write this. Just because. Because some days (like yesterday) there is paper and plastic and dirty underwear all over the floor, and someone’s dripping milk and sweet potato everywhere as the arguing and selfish squeals tempt me to pull out my hair. But on this day I praise God, and I know I need Him just like yesterday. I just wanted to take a moment to thank Him, to praise Him, and rest in his peace.