[Finally getting this post up a couple months later–2016 has not been my year for punctual blog posts!]
Our red house hasn’t sold, nor have we paid off our last student loan, but we keep working and waiting for both. However, Brett has begun day shift, we have insulated our attic, and a bountiful, cozy, delicious gathering was had in our home on Thanksgiving day. I’m still a bit stunned that we’ve owned TWO houses for TWO years next week!
On difficult days of illness, unexpected bills, or plain old weariness, I struggle to see the good in our daily sacrifices. The sorrow drives me to the end of my rope, where, desperate for hope I can only plead for help, for grace, from any source outside myself. If it weren’t for those dark places, I’d carry on with a proud confidence in my own self-reliance. Thank God for the hard days. Thank Him for happy days. Thank you Lord for loving us more than we can know.
From Godric by Frederick Buechner:
“Are you a pilgrim, Gillian, like myself?” I said, “You come and go like wind.”
“To puff you on a truer course,” she said. Her laughter was a silver bell. “Your hull is thick with barnacles. There’s mice that nibble at your shrouds. Rocks wait ahead the way you drift. Christ was a sailor too in Galiliee. Hand him your helm.”
“I prayed to him in Rome,” I said. “It was like calling down an empty well.”
Said Gillian, “Could it be it’s he instead that’s calling you?”
I said, “But silence has no voice to call.”
“The voice of silence calls, ‘Be still and hear,’ poor dunce,” she said. “The empty well within your heart calls too. It says, ‘Be full.’ “