Breakfast looked so good! I was hungry! I had gone to special effort to make the biscuits Howard wanted and the grits I was in the mood for; the eggs and turkey bacon were finished just as everything was ready. I had even put a handful of blueberries in a dish and placed a small bowl of rounded orbs of juicy, glistening watermelon on the table.
I sighed with satisfaction as I surveyed the quaint little breakfast table we'd found that just fit into our kitchen. After the blessing, I reached for the pepper to sprinkle my eggs, when suddenly I was looking down at a thick black mass over everything! The top had come off the shaker! "Why does everything happen to me when I try so hard!" I couldn't help exclaiming.
Just two days before, we had scheduled the cable man out to hook up our services after our recent move. I was so excited to be back on internet and connected to the world again I could hardly wait for the appointment. I was awake bright and early and had all the chores finished in preparation for the service call to be between 8:00 a.m. and noon. He seemed to be taking his time, though, I thought, when Howard remarked, "Who was that call from when the phone rang so long awhile ago?"
"What call? Why didn't you answer it? It was probably the cable man!" I cried. I called back the number and got the recording that since we hadn't answered, they would have to reschedule. So, complaining profusely, I had to wait another day (which I was afraid would be even longer).
Well, I was able to salvage my breakfast, our living room is now alive with sound and color, and I am back online. It had been an intense couple of weeks as I tried to reconstitute our house after moving our belongings back in, hanging pictures (the nails were still in the right places), unpacking and searching for lost items. Where had I packed our stainless tableware? We'd been using three forks and two spoons and sharing a knife for days! I knew I had sorted it neatly into its tray, wrapped and tied a dishtowel around it and put it...where? Into a basket, I thought. But unpacking some miscellaneous items yesterday, I spied the familiar bundle at the bottom of a box! Praise God!
It wasn't the first time I had prayed and found something. Retrieving things from storage, I searched high and low for my pot rack. After several forays, I prayed once again, "God please let me find my pot rack." I raised my eyes and there it was, leaning against the wall beside a full-length mirror!
The house is beautiful again, and now I can reflect and thank God for my blessings. He was there all the time!
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