Drinking the Cup

Yesterday, Saturday, I was forced to drink the cup of no electricity.  On Monday, I drank the cup of no electricity for a while.  It was more like waterboarding.  On Tuesday I drank a bit of the cup of no electricity.  On Thursday I smelled burning wires and greatly feared I would be drinking the cup yet again while my husband was out of town.  On Saturday, for some reason, the cup of no electricity I greeted with a spirit of adventure.

Conviction hounded me most of the week by my childish responses to my upheaved plans formerly in the week.  Elisabeth Eliot’s book continued to barrage me with passages about how nothing in life is an interruption but interrupted electricity certainly felt interrupting to my days.  So what happened on Saturday morning, the day I looked forward to being in my pajamas with my family in a warm, lighted, and movie-producing home?

At first I credited a sunny day, warmer temperatures, and no plans to be interrupted.  Quite godless but probably a little practically relevant.  God orchestrated the power outage in such a convenient way, I mused!  The coffee pot had just finished brewing!  I had even ignored my alarm and slept instead of getting up and tripping the breaker a whole hour earlier!  The hot water heaters still had enough water to yield 2 showers!  So many reasoned ways to explain away a completely different reaction to a stressful situation I had actually prayed the Lord would strengthen me to persevere in.

How quickly I forget.  I forget my keys, my bags, my books, my lists, and my God.  I wait and wait to see the Lord act and when He does I have forgotten what I asked Him to do and so am blind to Him in my life.  How sad.  I am thankful for the gentle way He looked after us Saturday by providing all those comforts for me.  May I be thankful even when He does not.

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