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Posts Tagged ‘down’

108930884708051549_nUBeMLyR_bIt is a Monday morning, a 90% chance of rain, it’s the end of January … ugh!

I received a note from my mother recently, mentioning that my blog posts had seemed rather ‘dark’ of late, causing her to read between the lines, and ask if I was okay. Moms have this ability to read between the lines.

As, I pondered her words, I remembered that I had, just that morning, led a devotion with my homeroom from Lamentations …

Lamenting

Dark

Mom was right (Mom is now more puffed up than my beasty when someone tells her that she is beautiful)! For one, it is January, and the dark of this month can get me down like nothing else (when will medical plans cover sunny holidays for those who live in the Pacific Northwest … heck, I would take freeze-your-but-off  sunny Edmonton over this weather). For another it is a month of past reflections that some years hits harder than others. Then there are all of the other complications of being married, having children (our own, and those of another mother and father), work with all it’s demands, finances, decisions, and so on, and so on and so on. All of this has a different effect on me in July, when the sun is shining, work is paused, schedules are relaxed, school is out and did I mention that the sun is shining?

1519615_f260So, I went to my past blogs, searching for the post with my lamenting song … don’t we all have one? And as I read How Long Oh Lord I was struck with how good that post was! And I thought, wow, I should share this one with my readers because you might not have read it before, and I have to say that (in my opinion) it is one of my better posts!

I was also impressed with the scripture that I had reflected on, Psalm 13, a lament of David, that ends in hope (doesn’t every lament in the Bible also offer hope?).

So, if you are feeling rather … January, check out How Long Oh Lord … and may it give hope to you as well.

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I’ve got Karen Carpenter singing in my head, as I sit at a coffee shop, watching the rain fall, and looking at the depressing forecast for the week to come.

It is now mid-June and the monsoons continue, with little relief (aka. sunshine) in sight … literally.

I have yet to swim in our pool, get a suntan, or have the sun hide my darker (or lighter, as the case may be) roots. I have yet to wear shorts, a tank top or sunglasses. I wear only hoods, slickers and galoshes. And I am considering that Prozac might just be a big part of my near future.

Despite how it sounds (and looks) the weather is not all doom and gloom. This west coast winter weather in springtime does make it easier to keep the grass green and the plants watered. It makes the final days of working in a school, before summer break, far more bearable. It makes barbecuing less appealing, and using the slow cooker more appealing.

All that said, the first day of summer is this very week. The countdown is not down to days, but hours, and the calendar may just turn without any other outward signs of this seasonal change. Today, that reality is really getting me down.

Just a week ago the office administrator at our church had put the following on our church sign:

“Whoever it is that is still praying for rain,
STOP!”

I have to say, it was my favorite message board saying ever!

As I sit, enjoying my warm drink (a London Fog … could I choose a more appropriate cool and wet weather drink?), I noticed a small, sparrow-like, bird looking for edible treasures outside the window. For this small creature, the rain does not seem to hinder it’s daily routine. As a matter of fact, it is probably benefiting from the wet soil that draws the worms out of the ground, making it’s take-out meals more like delivery.

Out of nowhere an old, old (like over a hundred year old) song starts playing on the record player of my mind:

“Whenever I am tempted, whenever clouds arise,
When songs give place to sighing, when hope within me dies,
I draw the closer to Him, from care He sets me free;
His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me.”

The words make me wonder, is this less appealing weather worthy of complaint? Why am I allowing something that is so out of my control, to control how I look at this day? Even when my complaint is of greater value than the reports of a meteorologist, there is always something to be thankful for, because there is always one who watches over, cares for and loves me.

“Funny, but it seems I always wind up here with you
Nice to know somebody loves me
Funny, but it seems that it’s the only thing to do
Run and find the one who loves me”

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