We Are Cared For

My Oldest (he is ten) just finished reading the Bible cover to cover this morning. He has been excited for weeks since he reached the New Testament to actually finish. This motivation of his came from when Dear Sir would order him to read five chapters of the Bible before he could play his gameboy. He has had that thing just over a year and the "rule" has probably only been in effect for maybe a year or even less. I am proud of him!

I woke up this morning also to seeing him at the breakfast table finishing up his Language. I almost fainted. He said that he wanted to get a head start on school. He made eggs for me and himself for breakfast, washed the dishes, and then finished the Bible. He called Dear Sir at work and told him what he had done.

He is excited because he gets to go out with Dear Sir tonight for ice cream. This is his reward once he finished the Bible.

Now if I can motivate myself by reading the Bible before I eat any chocolate or something like that. Sheesh. Better go start the Latin video after I get a shirt on my daughter who only has a skirt on. Her hair is in knots and she looks freakish in only a skirt and no shirt. The boys keep telling her to take a trip upstairs to get one on. She says that she can not find a proper shirt to match the skirt (she needs to realize that she needs to WEAR SOMETHING ELSE then). Goodness gracious.

I also woke up to remembering a story of what God had done in our lives when we were living in Idaho and really roughing it. I was amazed that I woke up just remembering this story. It is truly an amazing one to me.
In our house in Idaho we had a sliding glass door that locked for no reason. We had no control over it. I remember this time when my daughter was just born and she was sleeping on our bed and the boys had me come outside for something (I think) important. Eraser Eater (he was probably just barely two) slammed the sliding glass door shut, and then I realized that it had locked, with my newborn baby inside! Luckily I could see her through the window sleeping. I went to the neighbor and she said that we needed to get a locksmith. Pretty soon we could see my daughter on the edge of the bed, screaming her little two month old head off, almost certainly sure to fall off soon if we did not do anything about it and waited the hours until Dear Sir got home (about three?). I was so scared and felt so helpless seeing the girl screaming like that and I could not get to her. The locksmith came and when he finally opened the door (he said it was particularly hard to open---our FRONT door) I did not think I had to pay him. I mean, I knew I had to pay him, but I did not think in emergencies like these people still demanded payment. I know, I was stupid. I was totally willing to pay him when he did ask for payment but secretly I was sad because we only had fifty dollars left to our name for a handful of days until we got paid again and he was asking for forty three of it! I imagined what Dear Sir would say to me when he got home. I just remember being thankful to God that the money was in there, and that nothing happened to our daughter and someone could help at a relatively quick time. I was so scared!

Then, expecting nothing, I went to the mailbox to get the mail that was always running late. We got a strange letter and I opened it. It was a check from George Bush for $750 bucks! I remember after I opened that letter I must have looked like a thankful peasant woman. I lifted the letter in the air, put it to my heart and told God "thank you." I did not have to tell Dear Sir that I had to pay the locksmith nearly our last dime, I had good news for him when he got home instead of a horrific tale with a bad ending of...."Well, we only have seven dollars in the bank now."

I am reminded by my Father this day that He alone cares for us.


Funky-Redhead said...

great moment. It seems to me, more often than not... at times we only think to ask, and forget to thank.

Anonymous said...

Hooray for your oldest! Thank you for telling us about your miracle in Idaho! *Smile*