In the month of May I've been posting every week, to document daily glimpses of God I get in my everyday life. If you've missed previous posts in the series, you can read my impressions from Week #1 here, and the ones from Week #2 here.
Day Fifteen:
Eleanor and Eva, my twin granddaughters, did so well for me when their parents were gone, including sleeping all through the night - basically from 7pm to 7am. Kayleen came back home while the girls were having their morning nap, so she and I were able to each get a twin out of a crib when the babies woke up. When the twin I was holding noticed that her sister was in the arms of MOM, I was no longer good enough. In fact, I was so not good enough that it was worth wailing about!
A little later, when DAD came home, there was more celebration from the twins, which turned to mourning when I took one of the girls to get her settled into the stroller before going on a walk. Again, a great wailing ensued. It seemed to me, as I observed the twins in those two different instances of reuniting with their parents, that the girls didn't know how much they missed both mommy and daddy until they were with them again. They were quite happy with their grandma when she was the only one there, but she soon became an inferior option when the real deal caregivers showed up. Which is exactly as it should be. No one has loved so deeply nor bonded so tightly to those girls as their parents have.
Today, when I observed the twins with their parents after being separated for one night, I caught a glimpse of God.
His love surpasses all other's.
Day Sixteen:
I drove home from Carlin & Kayleen's place today. When I approached Buffalo, New York, and thought about the US-Canada border coming up, I felt a surge of gratitude once again. These days, it's just so much simpler to cross the border than it was a few years ago. No more lining up a Starts-With-a-C test at the nearest pharmacy within a certain number of hours before arriving at the border. No more waiting for the results to come back saying you're negative. No more filling out the form on your phone's ArriveCan app. No more wondering what questions will be thrown at you at the border booth this time. No more staying six feet away from that border guard, or from anyone else, for that matter. No more quarantining for two weeks when you do finally arrive safely and healthily back home.
I'm so happy to have all of that shmozzle behind us. When we were right in the thick of the pandemic, it was hard to believe that, like my aunt says, it would eventually be an experience that "had come to pass". You know, in the Bible where it has all those verses beginning with "And it came to pass...", well, she liked to think of it as meaning that things come and then they go away. Some unfavorable circumstance may arrive in your life, but it helps you to bear it with remembering that at some point, it too, will pass.
Today, when I pulled up to the booth to cross back into Canada, I caught a glimpse of God.
He brings things to pass.
Day Seventeen:
I went to the hospital today to visit a friend. Twice. The first time, I went without thinking of checking what time visiting hours were before I left. It was disappointing to discover I had arrived there an hour and a half too early. There was not much I could do about it, besides going back home and coming again later.
In the elevator on my way back out I met a friendly man who appeared to be a hospital worker. My face must have shown that I was lamenting my fruitless trip and scolding myself meanwhile for not being more proactive, because the man asked me if I'm ready call it a day (it was only 2 o-clock in the afternoon!) I explained my situation and he wished me better luck next time. It was only a short exchange, and not at all profound, but somehow I felt my day got a little brighter with the encounter.
Once outside, I saw the phrase on the hospital's colorful sign - Care Never Stops - and I thought of all the care required in a place like that. My disappointment paled in light of what others around me were facing that day. On all the different floors of the hospital, and spilling out on to the sidewalks and surrounding streets are those with brokenness of body, mind, and spirit. It's good to know that the hospital workers are committed to ongoing care for these people, but how much more could our loving, faithful Father rightfully say His care never stops.
Today, when I walked out of the hospital and saw its slogan in big block letters, I caught a glimpse of God.
His care for me never ends.
Day Eighteen:
I had such a delightful time gardening with Kerra today. First we went to a greenhouse to buy vegetable plants and flowers. Then we came home and directly worked up the soil in my new garden boxes in preparation for planting our purchases. While we dug, planted, and watered, we discussed the upcoming Sunday School lesson where Peter gets pretty passionate about false teachers. Kerra asked me for some planting tips and I said what I know from previous gardening experience. We laughed over an inside quote, "Shall we plant dear little lettuces?" instead of "Shall we make dear little muffins?" like Beatrix Potter's Mittens says to Moppet. We both enjoyed surveying our work with satisfaction and down-to-earth joy.
Today, when Kerra and I gardened, I caught a glimpse of God.
He loves working with His daughters.
Day Nineteen:
We went to church early tonight. Ken had to unlock the building so that the visiting speaker could set up his Power Point gear and display table in plenty of time before the evening service began. I had a few minutes to sit in the sanctuary alone while Ken was off rounding up some equipment and before anyone else arrived. Something about the silence in that space as the evening light streamed through the stained glass windows and enriched the wood of the pews had a calming affect on my heart and invited God near.
Tonight, when I sat on a bench in the auditorium at St. James, I caught a glimpse of God.
His presence invokes reverence.
Day Twenty:
Our church had its annual Victoria Day social today. This event included a baseball game, a potluck picnic, and a farewell for our Ukranian friends who are moving to Michigan by the end of the week. At the end of the ballgame and the beginning of the picnic, a rainstorm blew in. So much for my rushing to water my flowers and the new garden plants before leaving for the social, I thought. God's watering system far surpasses my use of well and watering can. During the farewell sharing time after the picnic supper, our pastor prayed that our friends would be blessed with a permanent home they can settle into. We also sang songs of heaven, the better Home that all of us can look forward to. Later on that evening, after we were home from the social, I noted another of God's superior ways. The moon He lighted in the night sky was far more enduring and impressive than my new 1-watt decorative string lights (although they are powered by His greater light to rule the day) and the fireworks that people set off to celebrate Victoria Day.
On Victoria Day, I caught a glimpse of God.
His ways outshine man's ways every time.
Day Twenty-one:
I got to spend time with a writer friend this afternoon. Over cups of tea at Anna Mae's restaurant, we talked for two hours, catching up on the news of our families' lives and talking writer-y shop, of course. When I told my friend about my goal of finishing a huge writing project this year (by learning to say no so I can say yes), she got so excited! Her enthusiasm was catching, and I came away refreshed and renewed in my belief that I can accomplish what I have set out to do.
Today, when I sat and shared with a friend, I caught a glimpse of God.
He gives us purpose. (and friends to spur us on)
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