Little is much

On occasion, I have one of those days where, before I even swing my feet over the edge of the bed in the morning, I feel overwhelmed and discouraged but the prospect of the day that awaits me. This morning was like that. I was still sleeping soundly when the alarm sounded - not off to a good start already! And my "do list" was long and sure to get longer as the day progressed. Ugh. As I drove the kids to school, they seemed oblivious to the responsibilities already draped over my shoulders and cheerfully added their requests and requirements to my ever growing list. After dropping them off, I continued on to pick up my daily pile of transcription work from the office. Absentmindedly and huddled under a dark cloud of negativity, I picked up the new CD that Kayden had left lying on the seat and popped it in. This was not by chance. The song is the song that played called "Little is Much" and I needed to hear this and be encouraged. Here are the lyrics...

What is the measure of a life well lived
If all that I can offer seems too small to give
This is a song for the weaker, the poorer and so-called failures

Little is much when God's in it
And no one can fathom the plans He holds
Little is much when God's in it
He changes the world with the seeds we sow
Little is much, little is much

Who feels tired and under-qualified
Who feels deserted and hung out to dry
This is a song for the broken, the beat up,
And so-called losers

Consider a Kingdom in the smallest seed
Consider that giants fall to stones and slings
Consider a Child in a manger
Consider the story isn't over
What can be done with what you still have


Little is much. Be encouraged.

Mark 12:41-43

CCD

They're calling it CCD - colony collapse disorder. I am referring to the mysterious disappearance of bees from their hives. German scientists have linked the cause of the bees' demise to cell phone radiation that interferes with the bees' ability to communicate with each other. They become disorientated and are unable to find their way home. This is just one more reason I am anti-cell phone for anything other than urgent communication. I confess that I do have a cell phone and it's usually turned off or lying in the bottom of my purse with a dead battery. I still somehow manage to live a relatively normal life without relying heavily upon it. Oh, I know. Some of you are rolling your eyes but do we really have to be accessible all the time? In our cars, at work, at school, while we eat in restaurants and my pet peeve - in the grocery store! And don't even get me started on Blackberries and those phones that take pictures and download videos and whatnot! Growing up on a farm in northern Manitoba way back in the day, my dad would have had to go to a neighbor's house to use the phone if he had a breakdown and perhaps needed a part from town. He may have even needed to wait until the phone was free as we were all on party lines back then. Certain neighbors had a propensity for long winded conversations about what was on sale at the Co-op store and how Mr. Hart at the post office charged too much for stamps the other day. You could interrupt these kind of conversations but there was an unspoken protocol that was innate to rural residents. Furthermore, an interruption was always listened in on and an interruption to order a tractor part would have been a week long source of gossip and consternation. No matter. That meant there was time for a cup of instant coffee and a quick visit with the neighbor. Dad didn't call my mom just to chat or to say he'd be home for lunch in half an hour. They used to look at their watches and Mom would start cooking when she figured Dad would be home and Dad would start heading home when he figured Mom had lunch ready. Nine times out of ten, things worked out. I clearly remember when things went "high tech" and Dad installed CB radios at home, in the truck and in several select pieces of equipment. The one in the house was called "Base" but Dad and the hired men came up with their own radio names or handles. I wanted a handle too, something catchy and unique, but Dad said we kids were not allowed on the radios. They were strictly for work and not for goofing around, as he put it.

So, I wonder how we moved so far away from the necessity of communication to the point where we have lost our manners and now we're messing with Mother Nature. Times they are a-changin'...and I'm not sure I like it.

Magic Erasers

I love Mr. Clean Magic Erasers! I have no idea just what they are made of but they are great. They work wonders on those mysterious scuff marks that appear halfway up the wall that the kids never admit to administering there. They do a nice job cleaning the white painted newel posts on the stairs. Mind you, I question the wisdom of painting the posts white in the first place. However, those handy little sponges endear themselves to me most when it comes to cleaning the handle on the fridge. It's not one of those fancy stainless steel fridges that can practically mix and pour you a martini after a hard day's work. No, it's ordinary white fridge and the handle is a little bit rough (I think the salesman called that "textured"). Day in and day out, family members and occasionally guests, tug at that handle and over the course of a few days, the handle shows its grime. Sometimes I feel like the handle on my fridge - tugged upon and slightly grimy. I would prefer that no one sees my life in a less than gleaming condition. Daily commitments and chores, unforeseen circumstances, busyness, procrastination. These all contribute to messing me up. So what is my Magic Eraser? Quite simply, God's grace. Just like I'd never give up on wiping the handle of my fridge door, He never stops cleaning me up. I'm thankful for that. Some days after a lot of wear and tear, I particularly need it. Like those Magic Erasers, God's grace and forgiveness extended to me is a mysterious and amazing thing.