Wanna know Gods wicked sense of humor? All day long I have been thanking the Lord for His grace and His mercy and His goodness. Marveling how He keeps us all safe and sound; horses, cats dogs, humans, all of us. Thankful that even though Owen managed to open the front gate somehow and let he and Gandalf out for an adventure down Scherrer Road while I was in town Neal discovered this before they got too far. Thanking him for his provisions and gifts that come so often. In that frame of heart, mind and spirit I caught Shadow to take her to the paddock where the guys were eating hay so she and Finny could have some too. As I was walking past the black walnut tree I tripped on a root and did a prat fall. As I got up, unhurt and thanking God for that, I noticed I had lots of lovely dog poo all over my down vest. I did not get my FREAK on. I simply unzipped it, laid it on the steps of the deck, and led Shadow out to the paddock with Finny following. Then I got my jacket, remembered to remove my phone from the pocket( without getting poo on my hands and thanking Him for both things), and put my vest in a bucket to soak. Then I walked to the computer to write this little story, lost my balance and almost knocked over both the computer and printer table... but didnt. Thanked Abba for that too. Then I checked my email and read that my book will not be out by Christmas as I thought. I had sent a final copy of my manuscript off at midnight after checking for naughty words to delete for the 5th or 6th time as Westbow Press required. I was excited that my intake person taught me about the Control F keys. I had one more use of the sample Word program on Lens laptop before I couldnt use it anymore. We would have to buy the program. I was so worried because the laptop usually crashes several times while Im on it. It didnt. I completed the scan of naughty words (like gosh, heck and darn) using the Control F keys and triumphantly sent it off. I thanked Abba for that too. Should I thank him that my book will NOT be out by Christmas? You bet. Should I thank him for all that poo on my vest I have to deal with still? You bet. Should I thank him for sore muscles and elbows following my two clutzy events before I sat down? You bet. THANK YOU ABBA FOR EVERYTHING. EVERYTHING. EVERYTHING. Especially for your wicked sense of humor!
Posted on: Fri, 05 Dec 2014 01:33:51 +0000
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