God's Care

     We have all questioned God.  Some of us were raised not to; however, being human we do it anyway.  We have all asked, "Why?" especially where the big questions are concerned.  "Why did my spouse lose his job?"  "Why does my sweet mother have to suffer so with arthritis?"  "Why do I have cancer with two small children to raise?"
     These are the heart wrenchers.  They permeate our lives.  But what about the smaller questions?  For example, "Why did my alarm not go off, Lord?  Now, not only I am late for work, but my kids will be late for school..."  "Why did my phone not charge?  I'm waiting for that important call!"  Here's one I can really relate to.  "Why did our dishwasher leak and leak and leak down into the basement?  Now, we have a huge mess we may have to pay for!"
     Why indeed?
     Could it be you are running late because a reckless driver would have crossed your path causing a horrible accident involving not only you, but your precious children?  And God said, "Not my kids you don't!  You are my child too, but I will gently guide you to be more careful behind the wheel of that car.  I will not let anyone harm any child of Mine in this minute."
     Those all important phones.  Remember when you had a simple answering machine at home?  Calls had to wait.  Boy, have we become impatient!  Perhaps the call you felt was so important was hurtful.  So hurtful that it haunted you for days and made you feel less than you really are.  Is missing that type of call really a loss?  It also gives the caller time to rethink their message.  A critical message becomes constructive, therefore a learning moment for both parties.
     And, that beloved flooded kitchen/basement.  At least it wasn't the washing machine.  How many loads per day do we do?  What if raw sewage was in your basement?  And guess what?  The insurance did pay for it.  You have a brand new kitchen and it is pretty awesome. 
     We gripe and complain, but our plans aren't God's.  His are better for many reasons.  One of which is He sees the whole picture--because He is God.  It sounds strange, but remember the Bible verse that says, "In everything give thanks"?  What if we did that?  How would God respond? 
     "Your welcome.  Thanks for trusting me.  I love taking care of you, my wonderful child."
--I'd like to dedicate this to my fantastic sister-in-law who sent me this message via email.  Love you, Cherie! 

God's Healing

     I sit here typing a somewhat new woman.  I have to share a secret with you.  For the past few months, I have been trudging through my days.  I have done only what was necessary to keep up appearances to my family and friends. When people have asked, "How are you doing, really?"  I answered them with a smile and a "I'm fine."
     I'm a pretty good actress.  I wasn't fooling my husband though, or my closer friends.  I had reached the point where procrastination had begun to bug me.  Clutter was everywhere.  I'd dropped the mask of super mom and grown grouchy with my family.
     Our summer wasn't the best.  Many of you know my father-in-law died of pancreatic cancer.  His life ended too quickly and eighteen days later, our daughter had back surgery. (I am still stalking the grumpy nurses.)  I attempted to make the summer fun for my kids.  I think I did an okay job of it.  Then, as school neared, my mother announced she needed to have a pacemaker installed.  She was my father's sole caregiver.  We had mentioned nursing home care, but who wants to do that, really?  Still, my siblings and I couldn't help like we had before, so the decision was made and my dad is now living in the nursing home.  Not fun for anyone.
     Has he adjusted well?  Those of you who know my dad know the answer to that one.  However, my mom is doing better because taking care of my dad was wearing her down.  With her heart problems, it wasn't a good situation.  And, the nursing home is less than five minutes away. She can go to visit whenever she chooses, and of course that is a few times daily.  Visiting my dad there was hard for me.  I realize it is for the best.  God led me to accept this.  Doesn't make it easy, however.
     So, the muck was there and I was wallowing in it.  I didn't even cry much; just wallowed.  I saw after a bit, that one can only do that for so long.  I didn't like who I had become. 
     At last I discovered what I needed.  I reached out to God.  I prayed.  Nothing fancy or flashy.  Nothing long or verbose.  I asked my Father for help.  I wondered how long I'd have to wait.  We hear a lot that God's timetable is not our own. 
     The next morning-BOOM-I awoke ready to go.  I actually did my to-do list.  I started exercising.  I asked friends to lunch.  (If I haven't asked you, I'll get there.  Don't worry.)  I got my Bible study underway and signed up for another one.  I'm going on a field trip Friday.
     I asked myself, "Why I didn't pray sooner?"  Maybe I needed some down time.  Maybe I needed to disconnect.  None of that is good because I always needed God.  Why do I always wait?  Haven't I learned my lesson? 
     The deal is, God is always there for me.  Even when I'm too numb to feel His love.  He must have a truck load of patience set aside for me.  His healing is unlike anything I have ever encountered.  Like a beloved blanket, it covers every corner of worry, depression, and upheaval.  It is a mighty gift.  I cherish it.  I know you do too.  Don't ever underestimate God's healing love for you.
    

God's Children

     I'm back.  Finally.  Really I am going to try to stick to a blog a week.  Accent on "try".
     I have realized I notice things others miss.  Like a forgotten umbrella in a shopping cart or a forgotten child in a shopping aisle.  I seem to stumble upon these people and things habitually.  I usually don't mind, but I have to say here lately, it has been the norm.  "I am not the Statue of Liberty," I grumpily thought the other day, "I do not want your lost, hungry, huddled masses looking to me for help."
    As soon as this occured to me, I chastised myself.  Phrases like, "Nice Christian attitude" and "What if that was your grandma?" floated through my mind.  I thought about  my grandmothers then.  One was the embodiement of a nurse and loved and took care of everybody.  She once helped a lost little girl find her mother at a picnic.  A snapshot of love personified I will never misplace. 
   My other grandma worked for years with my grandpa in their Ben Franklin store.  She did everything, but  mostly worked in the fabric department being a super sewer.  She taught me how to find a pattern for people, especially those who couldn't bend to the lower drawers.  She was a patient and kind teacher and playmate.  She took me to Sunday school every Sunday and always read Dr. Seuss, Little Arch books and my big white children's bible to me.  (Fellow Lutherans will recall these items.)
   Both of my grandmothers were little in stature.  I, on the other hand, am a whopping 5' 11".  They both were so glad I was tall.  So, when the next lady asked me to get something off the top shelf at the grocery store, I thought of them.  Wouldn't I want someone to help my grandmothers?  And, if someone was nasty to them, I'd be the first to gut that person like a herring.  Momma Bear's protection mode stretches way past her children.
    My husband and I have unfortunately begun to learn what it is like to step into the parenting role with our parents from time to time.  It seems awkward, but we can do it.  We learned from the masters.  And we do it with love and patience, as much as humanly possible, like our parents did.  My siblings and siblings-in-law can stop laughing now.
    We've all heard, "it takes a village to raise a child".  Whether the child is five or 85, maybe God has given me this job for a purpose.  There really isn't anything I can't reach at a store.  And along with helping someone else's grandma, I'd want a stranger to look out for my children.  I once physically pulled a little boy back into the theater who had been separated from his mom in the crowd.  I was happy to do it.  Just like the lady who helped my daughter to the ladder in the wave pool when we became separated and things were much too wavy.  I had been right by her. It can happen in a moment.  And in that moment, we are the village.
    I thank God for my eagle eyes and long legs.  We used to say my dad had a super sniffer.  I guess I inherited the same type of gift in a different sense.  One may not always have the time, but love and loved ones really all do live in the same village.   

God's In-Laws

     I know, I know.  A new blog?  Yes, a new blog.  I'm going to try even harder to post one once a week.  I could tell you the reasons why it's been so long, but instead I'm going to write about it.
     My father-in-law was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer the end of February.  He passed away on June 1.  I knew when I saw my sister-in-law's number come up on my cell he had died.  I was in the check-out line in Wal-Mart.  It's amazing how ambidextrous one can be when needed.
     My husband was supposed to travel to China the next day.  My sister-in-law worried he had already left.  I assured her he hadn't and promised to call him.  When I did he had just talked to his mother.  So, he knew.  I then had to tell our kids.  We were, unfortunately, all expecting this.  We prepared our children as much as possible.  Still, its never easy.  I swallowed so much while telling them I thought I might get sick.  And, they were nontheless surprised and shaken.
     We threw our stuff together and headed South.  We were able to help with the arrangements.  Everyone seemed to be holding together fairly well.  However, his loss of presence was immediately felt.  I kept waiting for him to come home from a meeting or Bible study or hospital visit.  My father-in-law was a retired Lutheran pastor.  He still led a Bible study.  He probably hadn't had too many meetings or visits in the past several years but this had been such a huge part of him when I first became a member of the family that to me it was natural to still see him in that light.  He loved to preach/teach most of all.  He led lots of lost people to Jesus. 
     The room grew smaller without his presence, especially when his brothers arrived.  Clowning around as usual, his love of laughter and goofy jokes was noticeably absent. Three now and not four, something was definately off.
     The visitation and funeral were mostly a blur.  I don't give much attention to the dweller of the casket.  That wasn't my father-in-law anyway. 
     We had visited him a week before.  He was exhausted.  When we left, I told him goodbye last.  I wanted my husband and kids to have extra time, not to feel rushed.  I told him I was the last person to wake him up to say goodbye.  Then, I told him something I'd never said before.  I love you.  He looked me right in the eye.  "I love you, too."  That is a great final memory.  I was a little shocked.  There were times when I'd grown frustrated with him and informed him in a less than tactful way.  And I'm sure he wondered why in the name of all that was good and holy had his wonderful son married such a mouthy, German, Scotch/Irish girl.
     Secretly, I'd always known it was because we were alot alike.  Except for the mouthy, Scotch/Irish girl part.  Yes, I really did just admit that.  In print.  For prosperity.
     My mother-in-law was shocked by all the people who came to pay their respects.  It didn't surprise me.  I had no doubts there.  No one is perfect but we can strive to live a Godly life.  My father-in-law did that very thing.  And he inspired many more of us to follow in his footsteps.  
    

God's Plan

     I cannot believe it has been almost three months since I blogged.  Wow!  The reasons are many and a few of them are heart wrenching.
     My mom is going in for heart surgery tomorrow.  My father-in-law was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer the end of February.  He is not doing well.  My mother thinks my dad has had another stroke and he also suffers from Parkinson's.  My daughter's upcoming surgery in barreling down on us.  My husband has been traveling for work.  And I promise, I am not making this up. 
     I am trying hard to hand over things to God.  I can usually do it on a day-to-day basis.  Then, I take things back.  Sharing was never one of my strong suits.  I enjoy the acid bubbling in my stomach.  My esophagus hasn't clenched enough in the last month.  Being exhausted and worried are my hobbies.
     Most days I feel as though I am in a fog.  I try to concentrate on other issues.  I try even harder to focus on my kids and husband.  I find myself wanting to cry.  Then I realize I just don't have the time.
     I am amazed what does happen when I do have a good day in the Lord.  I go along without worrying and actually smile.  Sometimes I even hum.  I notice the road block in my mind that won't allow me to visit my ulcer producing concerns. 
     Talking with my mother-in-law helps me also.  She has such a fierce faith.  She questions and wonders like the rest of us.  God has this uncanny ability to send her people that show her His plan.  Or, a bolstering thought can occur to her straight from God.  She is strengthened and shares her insights with me.  I am stunned and strengthened too.
    Somewhere in the Bible God tells us He knows the plans He has for us, to help us to prosper, and to build us up. 
     Not to pull us down.  That is huge.  The right plan from the right Savior because He loves us.  Not to shabby of a calender when we wholeheartedly trust God to plan the events.

God's Conviction

***Disclaimer Alert! Disclaimer Alert!***  I haven't written in awhile due to sickness.  Sickness of myself, my hubby, and my kids!  Now I feel better.  Onto topic...
    
     Have you ever felt convicted to do something?  Even better, convicted by God?  I have a few times in my life.  I stepped out in faith and did things I thought no one else would understand.  Funny thing is, support seeped in from sources I never imagined.  But, those are people.  I'm talking God here.
     When God gives us an answer to our prayers, life can get scary.  That, of course, is the enemy messing with us.  We back peddle and question God's plan.  As we are quiet and listen again, we don't just hear a repeat of our answer.  We become convicted.  Because we missed it the first time.
     Conviction is beyond the Gideon complex we feel at times.  Remember Gideon?  Show me, God, then show me again, and how about one more time, Gideon?  Yes, that is me and I have a feeling, that is you too.
     Conviction swipes that away.  I have a friend who was recently convicted to make a very large and life alternating choice.  She had doubts of course, but she surpassed them.  Why?  The God that surpasses all human understanding had convicted her this was His  plan.  Taking that step out in faith proved hurtful.  Yet convicted, she rose above and held onto God's hand through her pain.  She is stronger for it.  I am so proud of her.
     Conviction is so awesome!  And, so is God.
     I also believe conviction is what we all need to pray for.  It lead us, it guides us.  It can even carry us through.  Our doubts can cause us to buckle.  Not conviction.  It gets the job done despite our doubts.  Conviction is God's whispering in our ear, "I've got your back. Now go git 'er done."
     What have you been convicted to do?  Pray over this.  And  be amazed at what God whispers to you.

God's Prom

     While cleaning out drawers, my husband found an old wallet sized photo of myself and a prom date.  I am still stunned he found it.  The 5x7 was lost a long time ago.  I had mourned the loss of the picture and never thought there might be a wallet sized picture floating around. 
     I was so happy I could hardly look at it.  He had been a really good friend my senior year in high school.  He died about fifteen years ago in a car accident.  The first good friend from school to pass away, I remember being beyond shocked.  Grieving for him only got worse as time went on.  That was also the beginning of a year when I lost  many people I loved. 
     I prayed for a miracle.  I'm a little embarrassed to say I prayed for Jesus to raise him, like He had Lazarus.  I bargained with God.  He'd certainly gain a lot of believers with a modern day miracle like that one.  God had other plans, though. 
     People say once you get to Heaven, why would you want to come back?  I'm sure they are right. 
     Even though I hadn't seen him for several years, I missed him.  I thought a lot about high school.  We had so much fun that year.  We got into a bunch of trouble for talking across the room to each other.  And, talking in the library.  And, just talking.
     He became one of the few people who stood up for me.  I was tall, awkward, and chubby.  Some of you who know me now realize not much has changed.  Incredibly self conscious, having a real friend who didn't bully but supported me meant everything.  Everything.
     He asked me to prom his senior year.  Surprised, I came home from college.  We had a great time.  Whether he thought of me as more than a friend or not, I have no idea.  He would have been a great husband and father.  He was a great friend. 
     I didn't realize until I started typing this that the anniversary of his death just passed this month.  I pray for his family.  They were so close.  I think about those "deals" I made with God fifteen years ago.  I accept He has his plans.  I'm thankful He enabled me to be included for a short time in them with an awesome man I was blessed to have as a loyal friend.  

God's Bent

     After reading some interesting posts on facebook that took me back to when my kids were small, I had to write this blog.
     Our oldest was 18 months.  I caught her sticking her foot through the railing of our split level house.  True, there was no way she could fall through to the steps and hall beneath her.  Still, being a first time mom it scared me to death.  I told her, "No honey, don't stick your foot through the railing.  You could fall down."  She looked at me and proceeded to stick the very tip of her big toe over the edge. 
     It hit me like a ton of bricks.  I had given birth to my sister.
     My sister is six years younger than me.  She has always gone her own way.  My  Mom said she could look at me from across the room and I'd stop doing whatever I wasn't suppose to be doing.  My sister didn't respond to "the look".  If my mom told her "No!"  she'd stare my Mom down and reach for the forbidden item one more time.  She wanted to be sure Mom meant it.
     This sounded a little too familiar to me.  So, like Wonder Mom, I read whatever I could on the subject.  I talked to friends and the pediatrician.  Finally, I found there was a term for what our child "had".  She/he was strong-willed.  Our parents call that "stubborn and ornery". 
     Nothing I tried really worked.  When I read Dr. Dobson's "The Strong-Willed Child" I resolved to make it work.  It didn't.  I did learn to have a discipline plan in place.  That sorta worked.  And please don't be thinking, "You needed to be more consistent."  Believe me, I  consisted like crazy.
     Checking on your child before you go to bed to find they have smeared poo all over their crib isn't fun.  Having them spit out repeated amounts of antibiotics when they are gravely ill was no party either.  Then, they get older and out and out refuse to take their medicine.  I once told my husband that if our child had belonged to anyone else, he/she would have been black and blue.  Thank God (literally) I knew better.
     One mother told me, "Every child's bent is different.  Deciding what your child's bent is, is important.  I have a book on the subject."  Wow, really?  How nice for you.  I'm done reading.  Bent is their makeup or personality.  Aren't you glad I shared that?
     Anyway, eventually, our child did grow out of it.  When?  I can't tell you.  After the second and third baby arrived, life became a blur.  I can tell you I remember praying and praying.  Once I even raged, "God, what do I do?"  His answer?  Just love her/him! 
     Isn't that what God does for us?  He just loves us.  Talk about strong-willed children!  Take a minute and think of all we've done that was nothing more than stubborn and ornery behavior. And God sent Jesus to take on all the ways we've messed up?
     Just love them.  All of them.  In the end, you will rejoice just like God!   

God's Daughters

     While reading through my facebook posts, I got an idea for my next blog.  So, thank you to the friend who posted another blog on the subject of girls own special brew of bullying.
     We hear more and more about this topic in the news.  In the news, for crying out loud?  That never happened when we were kids.  Welcome to the new form of bullying.
     Kids are committing suicide who are victims of bullying.  They are taking guns to school to "take care of the bullies".  We switched schools because one of our kids was being bullied.  Nearly every day our child came home and had been physically or verbally abused by the kids in her class.  The teacher and principal tried and sometimes things got better for awhile.  But you have to be consistent to keep the bullying at bay. 
     Both of my sisters are teachers and I asked them about it.  One of them said when parents come to her and ask if they should talk to the parents of the bully, she discourages them.  She tell them it's her job to take care of it.  Parents talking to parents usually ends in one of two messages.  "I know and I don't know what to do about it" or the ever popular "Not my kid!" 
     I asked a friend who is also a teacher about a conclusion I had come to.  Everyone bullies and everyone gets bullied.  She agreed.  We also both agreed some kids get bullied worse than others due to size, height, clothing, etc.  The list can be endless.  And some kids do it as a form of fighting back.
     I've heard authors who have written books about girls bullying.  One author said, "Men need women for intimacy. Women need women for companionship.  Sometimes almost a second mother relationship can develop. A new woman comes in between two good friends and look out".  Let's face the fact, girls are nasty.  And unfortunately, it doesn't go away when we turn eighteen.  Women are excruciatingly mean to one another.  Whether we gossip or exclude, we bully with finesse.  We have had years of practice to hone our skills.
     I once watched an Oprah episode where a young woman came on the show and apologized to the other woman she had picked on in grade school.  She cried through the whole interview.  She admitted that she bullied because her parents were going through a terrible divorce and she had become the invisible child.  She preyed on other kids to make them hurt as much as she did.   She also admitted she got a rush at having power over these kids.  Wow.
     There are so many hurting people in the world.  It is doubly sad to me when the hurting one is a child.  I wanted to hug this poor woman.  It isn't easy to want to hug a bully, especially when they are picking on your child, but they need it.  I've talked to several counselors about this subject.  They agreed a child who bullies is hurting and feeling powerless.
     We are all God's daughters.  That makes us so special.  As adults, we have a responsibility to include the stranger in our mist.  Whether it is a committee or Bible study.  We set the example. 
     We also have to keep our eyes open.  Know of a hurting child?  Invite them over and do something special with them.  Or do an one-on-one activity they might enjoy.  Invite them to church.  Or a church activity.  No excuses, you organize  your grocery list.  You can do this.
     Is it easy to have the child who has bullied your child in your home?  I've done it.  The experience proved extremely interesting.  Pray for the bully.  Is this easy?  What do you think?  You're so angry that this kid left bruises on your baby you could spit, yet you know this kid is hurting.  Besides the fact you are a Christian.  And sometimes, let's face it, you don't care.
     What about God?  These girls are your sisters in Christ.  They are crying out.  So are you.  You may be afraid to send your child to school.  The only One who can put your mind at ease, take your anger away and give you peace is reaching out to you.  You can cry on His shoulder.  You can rant your anger away.  He already knows what you are going through.  He's God.  You are His daughter.  And so are they.

God's Circus

     I relish the time when my grade schooler comes home.  We snuggle and watch my child's  favorite program.  We have a snack and we talk about the day.  Then we do any homework that is due.  It is a special time to say hello again after a long school day. 
    And then...
    My middle school and high school kids arrive.
    True, they are older and the hormones are raging.  But usually they come home in good moods.  I'm just as happy to see them. I know what's coming, though.  The twisting in my stomach as they outline the homework, projects, quizzes and test that are barreling down on us. 
     This year is busier than past years.  We are swimming two days a week.  In other words, we joined the swim team.  It's a great program and you pick what meets to compete in.  Here's the thing-you have to practice.  It's an almost half an hour commute.  One way.  And that's to the closest pool. 
     I signed my kids up hoping this might be the magical sport.  Let's face it, sports are big nowadays.  So, I hoped this one would be theirs.  I forgot one important thing.  Mid-week we have confirmation classes.  Yeah, I know.  Who's this Christian mom whose blog you're reading?  Throw in some time with a tutor, and that's four nights a week of activities.  Yikes.
     Oh, I know.  Many of you are wondering where I got my mom stripes?  You go seven nights a week.  Plus some.  I'm a wimp compared to you.  But as we run and I shift into super-mom speed, (I do not wear tights.  They've itched me to death since I was young.  And capes are dangerous.  My reasoning?  Just watch The Incredibles.) I begin to forget my name. 
     Throw in my husband not answering his cell phone as we juggle our kitchen redo, and the other night, I seriously thought I was having a nervous breakdown.  On this particular night I'd found out my middles schooler had had no study hall and was hit with tons of homework plus a test.  Swimming wouldn't work for her.  A meet was scheduled for us for Saturday.  Who needs to practice for that, right?
     I went to swimming grumbling.  I might have prayed, I honestly don't remember.  I explained my child's absence to our coach.  She looked up what events my kids were in.  Guess what?  My kiddoes weren't registered for the meet.  I promise I am not making this up.
     I sat down next to a good, good friend and poured out my heart.  I don't like to complain, even to my friends, but doggone it, I am good at it.  She listened wholeheartedly.  Then she told me how her evenings go.  Wait for it...they sounded vaguely familiar!
     What was that about?  I'm not the only one who suffers, and I mean suffers, like this?  I'm not alone?  I thought God had renamed me "Job".  He hasn't? 
     Can I tell you the load this awesome friend lifted off me?  I was reminded of what I'd promised myself.  School comes first.  Any swim practices we make are great exercise.  The looming meet that wasn't was really going to be a long trip.  Instead, we had a great relaxing weekend and got a lot of stuff done.   Thank you,
 Jesus!
     Here's what God reminded me of.  I am not alone.  The enemy may like to trick all of us into believing that.  Listen up, it's a lie.  Almost every mom has gone through something similiar, if not gone through exactly what I/you have.  We just have to reach out to each other. 
     That's why Jesus gave us friends.  He had twelve awesome friends.  True, there's that whole Judas thing.  We forget it had been foretold for ages and somebody had to be the fall guy.  Jesus chose to die for us so we could live.  So Judas played his role. 
     The remaining eleven scattered. Peter denied Jesus three times.  They had to go through all the crummy stuff to come out on the better end.  Look at what awesome evangelists they turned into!  Don't think when they weren't freaked out and leaning on each other before Jesus appeared to them.  And I thought my day was a bad one!
     What did I learn?  The next time the big top gets pitched in my family room, I'm gonna pray, work really hard to turn it all over to God, and jump in the clown car with all my friends!
     We look so darn cute in our makeup and fabulous clown shoes!!! 


    
    

God's Water

     Some of you are aware of the flood/swamp in our basement and kitchen. For those of you who haven't heard, let's just say it has been an interesting Christmas season.

     My husband discovered water in our basement. We guessed it was caused by a leaky window or crack in the wall. Upon investigation, the service agency found our dishwasher was leaking. A crack in a seal had caused not only a swamp under our cabinets, but a flood in the basement. "Floodier and floodier" came to mind as we hit the waves with ginormous fans for a week to dry everything. I have to admit I did sit down and cry when my cabinets had to be ripped out.

     Things worsened every day and I was not in the Christmas spirit. Mr. Phlegmatic, aka my husband, became Grumpy the dwarf. The kids were hit with test after test and projects galore. Our oldest child took the ACT for the first time. Just when I thought the acid level couldn't rise any higher in my stomach, we learned the insurance didn't cover damage caused by household appliances.

     To say we were all in poopy moods doesn't really cover it. Then, I remembered something my dad once told me.

     "Look around. There's always someone worse off than you."

     He was right. Did you hear that, Dad? Sit down before you fall down. I really did just admit that.

     A few days before the Great Flood hit, my brother-in-law's shed with all his snow removal and lawn care equipment burned. No one was hurt, but his equipment has depreciated according to his insurance.

     One of the men from the company helping us out told my husband his next stop was to a home with raw sewage in their basement.

     I could go on. I won't. I remembered what was really important. We have our health. We have each other. My husband has a job. We have our home, albeit soggy.

    And the Christmas spirit rained down.

    Then came our silver lining. A mistake had been made concerning the removal of our cabinets. The insurance company would cover the cost to redo the kitchen.

     God's water came. We boarded our ark. And when we emerged, we had our rainbow.