Mercy-drops 'round us are falling, but for the showers we plead.
While chatting with my husband one morning recently, we were talking about how we both have a tendency to forget the good things God does for us in the everyday, and want to have some sort of "proof" that He cares. We tend not to see the "mercy-drops" all around us. We want - and sometimes I think we truly NEED - those "showers of blessing."
I suspect I'm not just talking about the two of us. At any rate, I'll just talk about our own experience.
Lately, we've had a few things happen that have depleted our energy, made us think that maybe we were God's piñata for a while. An unexpected trip to the U.S. - Canadian border last summer, our daughter's knee injury on November 30, 2012, associated expenses to build a ramp and rent a wheelchair, and pay for physiotherapy sessions, plus the increased cost and usage of gasoline with an added driver in the house, all seemed to conspire against us. Not normally optimistic by nature, we saw ourselves as under attack. After the winter weather came, it was like we burrowed into our lives as if to hibernate until the bad things stopped piling up and the snow melted.
We lurched from appointment to appointment, day to day, gritting our teeth to survive it all, grateful for the minor respites - the mercy-drops - that would happen every so often. When the specialist, over 2 months after our daughter's injury, finally decided that she needed an MRI, we saw a light at the end of the tunnel - only to find out that her date would be in June.
June. Waiting for spring was a symbol of everything we'd been forced to accept the previous few months.
It was the spring for which we had been hoping, praying even, for the lack of light and the frigid temperatures, the slippery, treacherous roads, the heavy winter outer clothing, and every single thing about the season, wore at us.
So... it was only fitting that God, with His amazing and somewhat ironic sense of humor, would choose to answer our prayers by using the very thing we both hate with a passion: winter.
The specialist had told us on February 5 that our daughter could ask to be put on a cancellation list - that in the wintertime, she could well be moved up due to people in the country not wanting to chance their safety on the roads, or not being able to get out of their long lanes. For the first time in a long time, I started praying for snow. Not here, necessarily, but just in the country, so that we could get to the hospital if we were called.
A likely occurrence. NOT. Usually if we get a storm, it blankets the whole Island and nobody can go anywhere.
Every weekend since, we have been inundated with winter storms that have cancelled church services and/or planned family activities. This past weekend, when we finally did get a "snow day" (a work day for me normally), it was already on a provincial holiday, which meant that there would be no cancellations. Our hearts sank. Yet, we just carried on. I would like to say that we carried on patiently. That. Didn't. Happen.
In spite of it all, God provided a shower (or is that a flurry?) of blessing.
This morning, while my husband and daughter were out doing some rare errands before the forecasted snow (and freezing rain, and rain, and more snow) started to fall again, the hospital called with a message that there'd been a cancellation. They missed the call, and they thought that was the end of it. They'd not been home 45 minutes when the hospital called again. The spot was still open for 3 pm; was she interested?
Uh, YUH!!
By 4 pm, she was finished her MRI and they were on their way to pick me up from work. That's when they informed me of the other things that happened today as well. She got her handicapped placard for the vehicle (this after hubby had been ticketed for parking in a handicapped zone and contacted city hall to explain - they waived the ticket and suggested he contact the local Council for Persons with Disabilities to get a temporary permit), she paid her health care insurance premiums so that she would be covered while off on sick benefits, and they went to a few stores and stocked up on some supplies - all good things to take place - before the storm that was threatening hit our area.
Now, we are settled in for the evening, the snow is falling and we are enjoying each other's company. In winter. Hmm.
And I'm feeling grateful, and relieved, and .. rather (suitably) sheepish.
While chatting with my husband one morning recently, we were talking about how we both have a tendency to forget the good things God does for us in the everyday, and want to have some sort of "proof" that He cares. We tend not to see the "mercy-drops" all around us. We want - and sometimes I think we truly NEED - those "showers of blessing."
I suspect I'm not just talking about the two of us. At any rate, I'll just talk about our own experience.
Lately, we've had a few things happen that have depleted our energy, made us think that maybe we were God's piñata for a while. An unexpected trip to the U.S. - Canadian border last summer, our daughter's knee injury on November 30, 2012, associated expenses to build a ramp and rent a wheelchair, and pay for physiotherapy sessions, plus the increased cost and usage of gasoline with an added driver in the house, all seemed to conspire against us. Not normally optimistic by nature, we saw ourselves as under attack. After the winter weather came, it was like we burrowed into our lives as if to hibernate until the bad things stopped piling up and the snow melted.
We lurched from appointment to appointment, day to day, gritting our teeth to survive it all, grateful for the minor respites - the mercy-drops - that would happen every so often. When the specialist, over 2 months after our daughter's injury, finally decided that she needed an MRI, we saw a light at the end of the tunnel - only to find out that her date would be in June.
June. Waiting for spring was a symbol of everything we'd been forced to accept the previous few months.
 |
| Yes, that is a patio chair buried in a snow drift on our deck. |
So... it was only fitting that God, with His amazing and somewhat ironic sense of humor, would choose to answer our prayers by using the very thing we both hate with a passion: winter.
The specialist had told us on February 5 that our daughter could ask to be put on a cancellation list - that in the wintertime, she could well be moved up due to people in the country not wanting to chance their safety on the roads, or not being able to get out of their long lanes. For the first time in a long time, I started praying for snow. Not here, necessarily, but just in the country, so that we could get to the hospital if we were called.
A likely occurrence. NOT. Usually if we get a storm, it blankets the whole Island and nobody can go anywhere.
Every weekend since, we have been inundated with winter storms that have cancelled church services and/or planned family activities. This past weekend, when we finally did get a "snow day" (a work day for me normally), it was already on a provincial holiday, which meant that there would be no cancellations. Our hearts sank. Yet, we just carried on. I would like to say that we carried on patiently. That. Didn't. Happen.
In spite of it all, God provided a shower (or is that a flurry?) of blessing.
This morning, while my husband and daughter were out doing some rare errands before the forecasted snow (and freezing rain, and rain, and more snow) started to fall again, the hospital called with a message that there'd been a cancellation. They missed the call, and they thought that was the end of it. They'd not been home 45 minutes when the hospital called again. The spot was still open for 3 pm; was she interested?
Uh, YUH!!
By 4 pm, she was finished her MRI and they were on their way to pick me up from work. That's when they informed me of the other things that happened today as well. She got her handicapped placard for the vehicle (this after hubby had been ticketed for parking in a handicapped zone and contacted city hall to explain - they waived the ticket and suggested he contact the local Council for Persons with Disabilities to get a temporary permit), she paid her health care insurance premiums so that she would be covered while off on sick benefits, and they went to a few stores and stocked up on some supplies - all good things to take place - before the storm that was threatening hit our area.
Now, we are settled in for the evening, the snow is falling and we are enjoying each other's company. In winter. Hmm.
And I'm feeling grateful, and relieved, and .. rather (suitably) sheepish.
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