Now THAT is sovereignty...
I'm a screw-up. I know it, you know it, God knows it... even this blog knows it. Yeah... I screwed up yesterday.
Hot guy from poker night was heading for New York for the weekend, and wanted to meet me for lunch and give Tate and I a Christmas present before he had to head for the airport. I think I was a little taken aback at the notion of a gift for us, and I let that be my excuse in a way. I know I should have said no. I don't know why I didn't. But obviously, I didn't.
What is wrong with me???? AAAARRRRGGGHHH.
And you know, stupid me... For some reason my brain actually thought that I could get away with it. And then God said: "Oh really?"
And then He locked my keys in my house. Oh, I know that it was my physical body that perpetrated the act. But God totally had that planned just to show me that I may be able to slip things past others, or pretend that it's no big thing, but there's no putting anything past Him.
And so I trudged a mile to my dad's house only to find his front door locked. And so I climbed his privacy fence (in heels) to get in the back door, at which point I got the spare truck key (because there is no spare house key, that would have just been too easy)... And so I walked a mile back to my house, got in my truck and went back to work exhausted. And so I came home at the end of the day, gave my son to my dad to keep (since it was freezing outside), and sat in my driveway waiting for a locksmith. And so I waited some more... and some more... and then I froze (as I was sleeveless)... and I waited a little bit more, and then the locksmith arrived (huzzah!).
And then it took him thirty stinkin' minutes to open my door (he wasn't very happy with my lock). And then I went to pay him. And he doesn't take credit cards (I'm sorry, wha?? Is this not America in the 21st century? I'm baffled). Well, ok, I recently found my 2 year old checkbook (out of which have come a whopping 4 checks since it's birth). He's sorry, he doesn't take checks. Well, I don't really "do" cash... But! After 15 minutes of digging in sofa cushions and pants pockets and wallets and day planners and briefcases, I manage to come up with $48. Not too shabby. But, I'm still $7 short of his fee. Well, then, good merry locksmith, follow me to the gas station at the corner where I'll use the ATM and secure your seven dollars.
The gas station has no ATM.
Have I mistakenly stepped into a time warp? Perhaps a new dimension? A serviceman won't take credit cards and the gas station has no ATM. Where am I???
The locksmith is apparently smitten with me, by the look on his face. Or perhaps he's just tickled by the look of absolute shock on mine as I face the clerk at the Cumberland Farms, completely baffled at what I'm hearing issue from his lips...
I turn, still trying to wrap my mind around what I've just been told, and ask if he'd like to follow me to the bank. And so he chuckles, and tells me, "You've had quite enough to worry about for one night, pretty girl. Forty-eight will do just fine..." And with that, he tips his hat with a gentleman's smile, steps into his truck, and drives away.
So then my mind was trying to wrap itself around that too.
Even when God is reminding you of just Who the boss is, He still loves you, and shows you kindness... He used this opportunity to remind me of two peripheral lessons: 1) That He works in ways that I can't understand or explain and 2) that apart from grace, all that I am is still not sufficient.
Man I love that Guy...
-Jack-
