Caught Red-Handed


Filthy, sinful, bad.

I am really sorry.

I didn’t get sick.

None of my family got sick.

I’m not afraid of getting sick.

When I have spoken to God, He has manifested His peace in my circumstances.

The world around me screams that goodness is encased in behaving fearfully.

The sun is out. The birds are nesting.

One of my daughters got married.

The other is expecting a baby.

My son is learning the good life lessons that all boys must learn to become men of good character.

My sons-in-law are emerging into godly leaders (it’s a process).

The girls are discovering the challenges and delights of Biblical womanhood (also a process).

Our family is growing in all the ways.

My to-do list is still like the ocean. If I scoop a bucketful out, the hole closes up with more, as if I had never been there.

Even so, more has gotten done, because there’s no temptation to “get out in the sunshine” and drive around wasting time and gas. I can get in the sunshine on the porch.

I apologize.

Earlier last month, I said, “Being afraid to die has made people afraid to live.”

It seems my gratitude and calm (characteristics for which I am not known), are sins. Godliness has become measured by the harvest of fear-based works. If such is the case, can I submit my offering out of the last several years behavior and apply for understanding this season in which I simply am not anxious (Only about getting fussed with by someone who is “digging the heck” out of global pandemic and the sewing of permanent masks).

Remaining engaged with the wedding, Easter, and two birthdays, since this widespread sickness began to be tracked in the U.S., seems to be a cardinal sin. I have seen people smile with delight to learn of others cancelled plans and received apologies for assumed plan cancellations, when we were filled with excitement for plans followed through.

Many spiritual friends offered constructive criticism about my anxiety and negativity and immaturity in the last couple of years. For reasons I can’t discern, I have danced with joy in my heart during this time. Knowing God is in control. He isn’t surprised by our circumstances. He loves us wildly. If I die, I know it isn’t the end and I will see my beautiful people when they get there.

So, I’m sorry. I confess. This time has brought my dependence on God into clearer focus (I’m in no less control today than I was on January 1). He has used the sunshine and the celebration and a glorious multiplication to chasten me for my long term failure to be a godly woman. I know I don’t deserve any of the things I dream of, but He has brought about a great deal of the things I visualized as a little child and a young woman, that I never dared ask Him for. And not just in the short moments of this national panic. Yet, this time has brought all that into focus so that I dance in my heart, while I release my hopes, dreams, and desires to Him in a new way. His plans are always better than we could dream.

This moment has been a manifestation of His promises fulfilled. Yet I am bound and gagged lest I dare glorify Him before the plagued, fearful assembly of the saints.

Yeah, no.

I don’t want to disrespect anybody who is sick or unemployed. Because of that, I am not looking past this important time.

Time to glorify Him for His goodness.

Time when we can defy the enemy of our souls by allowing the joy of the LORD to be our strength.

Time to believe the promises are still in effect. Even if normal business hours are not.

For as many as are the promises of God, in Him [Christ] they are yes; therefore also through Him is our Amen to the glory of God through us.

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