Attack

We looked at each other across the office.  "I feel like we are under attack."

"We are."  I acknowledged.

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These past two weeks have been a roller coaster of emotions.  We removed our son from a school we love to pursue an education for him at a school we know is a better fit.  There were tears and kind words and prayers and "we'll miss you" as we walked away.  There were open arms and welcomes back and smiles and hugs as we walked in.  On balance, all good, yet emotionally tough.

We finally acknowledged our beloved Bob cat had lost weight and seemed to be throwing up hairballs more often than not.  Blood tests and long conversations about kitty diabetes and the possibility of the death sentence of kidney disease ensued.  Dinnertime brought about the "what if" conversations no one had answers for;  there were tears.  Greatly affected by the thought of death for the first time in his life, The Babe insisted that Bob sleep with him.  Being the loving soul he is, Bob did just that, under the warmth of a red blanket with white hearts.  We await test results.

Phone calls from her are regular.  Test results from her Dad's lungs, now showing tumors, are not.  Her voice was flat.  She was numb.  I understood but words failed me.  Prayers, in the moment, were forgotten.  The call ended and I had failed.  All that suffering I had been through, not put to good use.  I prayed in that moment for her Dad, for her, for her family.  I silently wept.  This is not how we want to say goodbye to our parents.  I pray pending test results come soon.
   
The letter came unexpectedly.  2010 taxes were wrong.  There were penalties.  There were fees.  There were back taxes.  A quick glance at returns indicated the error to be on their side.  Yet this is the IRS, with all the backlogs and endless wait times and bureaucracy.  Forms have been sent;  appropriate defenders of our return contacted.  Yet again, we wait.

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"Find rest, O my soul, in God alone;  my hope comes from him.  He alone is my rock and my salvation;  he is my fortress, I will not be shaken.  My salvation and my honor depend on God;  he is my mighty rock, my refuge.  Trust in him at all times, O people;  pour out your hearts to him, for God is our refuge."  Psalm 62:5-8

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I am so imperfect.  I lack so much faith when the dark clouds roll in.  If I am not careful, I am pulled into the abyss of my life and feel overcome. 

I cling to the Psalm.  I pray.  I cry.  I pray again.  I find peace and lose it in the same moment.

"Get behind me Satan" becomes my battle cry. 
I grab the Armor of God and strap it on.
For the moment.
For the hour.
For the morning and afternoon and evening.

Only for today.  Today is all I have to handle.  Tomorrow has its own worries;  I will leave them there.

Yesterday I was being crushed by a rock.  Today, I am in the cleft of the rock. 

Thank you, Lord.