(1 week ago)
Dear Lord, Most Gracious Heavenly Father... Sweet Lord of Hosts...
Today, I finally understand. You will always win. There is nothing that you cannot do. No sunset that you cannot cease. No hurricane that you cannot calm. No Pharaoh whose heart that you cannot harden. No sea that you cannot part with a simple blast from your nostrils. And no assembly that you cannot assemble to teach your son, Seth, a missing virtue.
Today I confess that I fought something like a starving lion. I fought it early this morning in front of the microwave as I watched the timer tick down from a single minute. I fought it today as I printed out my boarding pass and noticed that I was way back in the B's. I fought again as my bag toppled over and spilled my laptop onto the busy floor of Hobby airport, my only crime? I was taking a first swig of my OJ when I barely pushed the balancing tower with my leg.
I fought it on the train with the young toddler intent upon kicking my chair as if each kick was as vital has his very own heartbeat. I fought the urge to grab him by the arm, in front of his indifferent excuse for a filthy-mouthed parent, and tan his little bratty hide.
I fought it when the cab driver purposefully took twice as long to deliver me to the airport. I fought it again as my license seemed to be desperately trying to flee my grip during security check.
However, I obviously have not fought it hard enough. So, I surrender. There is no doubt that I am missing a vital chapter in the book of Christian... something. The miraculous handwriting is on the airport-terminal wall. The assembly of wheelchairs before me, delaying my flight can only be You and You alone. This is obviously a miracle. You are reaching down into creation and making the impossible possible. I am obviously not getting something important.
Let it be said: I surrender. I am listening. You win. Show me thine ways. Whatever it is you are trying to teach, please, can ya hurry it up?