Hope you have had a wonderful couple of weeks. I wish I could say I missed posting last week because I spent Holy Week in deep contemplation, that my Good Friday was entirely too reverent for blogging. But alas the truth is nothing of the sort. Last week I ran around like a chicken. I spent nine days in Florida and while that was mostly relaxing and restorative, the ten-hour rat race back nullified some of the serenity. The Babylon Bee recently did a bit about a wife holding on for dear life when her husband fails to respond to brake lights…five miles ahead. Sadly this is quite accurate. My husband’s driving has bothered me for more than 30 years now, but the older I get the more I freak out. Needless to say a 700 mile trip is exhausting on many levels for both of us. Yes, we have many laughs and enjoy each other’s company immensely, but I should probably drive the first leg and then drink cocktails the rest of the way. We pulled in late Thursday night after a wild trek through Atlanta, dodging mind-blowing backups by changing interstates and then hopping in the Peach Pass lanes, which late at night look like you are going head-on into oncoming traffic for 10-15 miles. It also whips up and down and around like some kind of roller coaster. When we finally started the last little leg up the mountain we came within inches of hitting a deer. Obviously my next trip will be by air!
But now the boys are back to school and sports, and I’ve had some girlfriend time and a desperately needed lunch-date with my man. I filed our taxes and have mostly caught up with the mail pile. On Wednesday, I opened a note from my first new friend of the pandemic. I guess he must be 94 now. I hate it that his kind note sat there for more than two weeks without being acknowledged. I feel like such a loser when I clean out my fridge and throw away copious amounts of food, but I feel even worse when I fail relationally. Honestly, I drop a lot of balls and the ones with social impact are the most unloving and shameful.
I benefit from reminders to answer texts and to return calls. Sometimes I miss important emails, even from my own husband. I should leave a sticky note on my rear view mirror: do not move this car before you answer at least one text, call or email. Truly I think I’d be a better person if I did this.
But you know Who never leaves you hanging? The Lord God Almighty. It matters not whether your distress is caused by the brokenness of this world or your own sin, He always answers. This week I studied Psalm 107, which is a beautiful reminder that God continually rescues and redeems us. We are never beyond the reach of His steadfast love.
Then they cried to the LORD in their trouble and he delivered them from their distress…Whoever is wise, let him attend to these things; let them consider the steadfast love of the LORD.Psalm 107: 13, 43
May I answer communications in a timely way and always know Who I need to communicate with the most. May I cry out to the Lord more than to friends and ever be mindful of His steadfast love. Praying the same for you. Have a fabulous weekend.
P.S. As an aside, you might be wondering after having a vacation (Will was only there for half of it), and lots of time together over the weekend, why would a lunch date be desperately needed? I will tell you that my sweet husband knows when I am discouraged by the world, which since March 2020 has been pretty often actually. He also knows how much my cup is filled by sweet time with him in a restaurant where no one asks me to do anything. If he senses I am discouraged, even a little bit, he will make room for some kind of date. He also likes to put things on the calendar to look forward to. Before the world unraveled, we almost always had some concert or special event secured every few months. This week I sent him dates for an artist we like who is doing backyard concerts this spring. Ten seconds later he called: “Buy those tickets for May.” How do you and your spouse make sure you are spending cup-filling, quantity time? I’m certain you know “quality time” is a concept straight from hell.