life beyond the well…


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Divinely Delayed

I really hate being late.  Well, let me not say that…because there are definitely areas of my life where I struggle to be on time.  Just keeping it real.

So what I really mean is that I hate for my routine to be interrupted, thus causing me to be late(r).  I know that it happens, and generally there’s nothing that I can do about it, so I’m good about rolling with the punches…after I get over the initial frustration.

Today was one of those days where my routine was interrupted.  Preacherman was having car trouble, so I had to take him to work.  The challenge is that he has to be at work an hour before I do…so my entire morning routine was thrown off by having to take him to work and struggle through the early morning traffic.  Adding insult to injury was the fact that my car was in DIRE need of gas.  I mean, to the point that I was praying that we would make it to his job, and I was REALLY praying that I would make it back home without having to call AAA because I was stranded on the side of some Jacksonville road.

After making it back home (thanks God!), getting dressed, and making it out of the house in a decent time to head to work (after stopping at the gas station), I received a phone call from a friend who I haven’t talked to in a while.  She’s struggling.  Going through some major stuff.  And while I’ve been praying for her, I haven’t had a chance to connect with her on the phone in a while.  So, it was good to talk to her FOR REAL and be able to encourage her in her situation.

On the way to work, I processed all that happened.  Had I not been delayed by Preacherman’s car issues, I would have been on my regular schedule and would have missed the opportunity to connect with a friend who so desperately needed to be encouraged and reminded of God’s love for her in the midst of her challenges.  And I would have missed God’s reminder to slow down and enjoy His delays because He’s always at work.

It’s so easy to be frustrated when our routine is interrupted.  I encourage you, in the midst of those interruptions to seek God.  What is it that He is trying to tell you?  How, in those moments, does He desire to use you?  I’m grateful for God’s nudging and gentle reminders of how He is always at work.  I’m grateful for being used to encourage someone else in their situation. And though I was initially frustrated, I can honestly say that I’m grateful for this morning’s divine delay.

Until next time…

Be encouraged!  Peace and Blessings!

 


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Green is for Grandma

I hated the color green as I was growing up, and it was all her fault.  She loved it in the most ridiculous, passionate way.  She had green EVERYTHING.

Green sweaters.

Green dresses.

Green pants.

Green church suits.

Green church shoes (to match the green church suits).

Green LEATHER outfits (yes, outfits- as in more than one).

I should also mention that it didn’t matter which SHADE of green it was.  If it was in the green family, it was good as gold. I didn’t much mind the green for her. I mean, you like what you like.  But what I DID mind was the fact that she spread the green to us by way of our GREEN summer camp shirts.  You see, for a huge chunk of my childhood, my grandparents ran the Harriet Tubman Summer Day Camp in the basement of their church.  And we had camp shirts that we had to wear–and our camp shirts were green. AND, since my grandparents ran the camp, that meant there was no shortage of green shirts for me to wear. I could never ruin my shirt. I could never lose it. I couldn’t forget it. There was always a green shirt for me.

But now, things are different. They’ve changed. And I’ve grown and changed, the color green has become less of a subject of my distaste and more of a comfortable and familiar association with someone who I loved deeply, and who deeply loved me.

Now when I see the color green, I am reminded of faith, family, strength, dignity, purpose- all things that she embodied. I am reminded of the value and necessity of education. I am reminded of the responsibility of serving others and lifting as you climb, lest no person be left behind.

Green is for Grandma.

In honor of my grandmother, Mrs. Mildred Eleanor Roberts-Davis

August 20, 1935 – July 8, 2006