I have the winter blahs. I know because I don't feel like moving. I only feel like eating. And I feel like curling up in bed and reading books for days. There is something about living in this northern climate during deep winter that should benefit us, like a tax break, a bail out, a stimulus package!!! (Just kidding) We are 2 feet deep in snow, with another foot or so expected tomorrow. My road is rutted ice. The sidewalks in town are treacherous. And the only entertainment at home is one station through my recently acquired digital converter box that I didn't get a coupon for, nor does it work most of the time! (Well, I exagerate. It's not the only form of entertainment. Radio, DVD player, VCR! Rescue Heroes The Movie is wearing on my nerves though.)
I don't want to hear any more news on the news. I don't want to know about any more tragedies, accidents, people getting sick or dying, people doing wacko things, job layoffs. I don't feel like getting heated up over school consolidation votes, the economy, Obama's new policies. It's all too much. Everywhere I turn it feels like the world is really ending soon, and I sense everyone around me, including me, needs an infusion of hope and energy!
So what did I do this evening when I needed to pick up from dinner, but just couldn't seem to? I prayed, "God, you are our hope!" And I prayed for this country and for people who are really hopeless in dire situations, and the government, et. al....
Patrick came down from his bath and we ate ice cream (to soothe his oncoming sore throat and to satisfy my carb-craving.) Then I got busy. If I didn't move, I wouldn't move. Dishes, trash, laundry, entryway floor.
I took the trash (which is piling up and piling up) out to the shed. When I stepped back out into the dark I realized it was so very quiet. Not a breath. Not a sound. Wait, yes, a neighborhood dog was whining quietly to be let in. But that's it. Not even the sound of ice fisherman or snowmobiles on the nearby lake. I looked up and presto! Bright white stars. A large one right over my house. Orion. Clusters. Gorgeous.
"God, you are in control!" I thought.
I stood and breathed it in for a few more moments and then went inside and called for Patrick to come look at the stars.
"The heavens declare the glory of God" and give me hope that His reign is still sovereign, even in the dead of winter.
I don't want to hear any more news on the news. I don't want to know about any more tragedies, accidents, people getting sick or dying, people doing wacko things, job layoffs. I don't feel like getting heated up over school consolidation votes, the economy, Obama's new policies. It's all too much. Everywhere I turn it feels like the world is really ending soon, and I sense everyone around me, including me, needs an infusion of hope and energy!
So what did I do this evening when I needed to pick up from dinner, but just couldn't seem to? I prayed, "God, you are our hope!" And I prayed for this country and for people who are really hopeless in dire situations, and the government, et. al....
Patrick came down from his bath and we ate ice cream (to soothe his oncoming sore throat and to satisfy my carb-craving.) Then I got busy. If I didn't move, I wouldn't move. Dishes, trash, laundry, entryway floor.
I took the trash (which is piling up and piling up) out to the shed. When I stepped back out into the dark I realized it was so very quiet. Not a breath. Not a sound. Wait, yes, a neighborhood dog was whining quietly to be let in. But that's it. Not even the sound of ice fisherman or snowmobiles on the nearby lake. I looked up and presto! Bright white stars. A large one right over my house. Orion. Clusters. Gorgeous.
"God, you are in control!" I thought.
I stood and breathed it in for a few more moments and then went inside and called for Patrick to come look at the stars.
"The heavens declare the glory of God" and give me hope that His reign is still sovereign, even in the dead of winter.
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