It usually sneaks up behind me and smacks me on the back of the head, kind of like an old Uncle Sal would do if you needed it.
SMACK!
Yep.
I felt the firm hand of the Holy Spirit today - and no, I don't refer to it as Uncle Sal, although maybe if I did I would have a different connection - but that's deep thought for a different day. :)
The other day I reminded everyone with a post on a social media site to "zip it". That someone always has it worse than you and to keep things in.... wait for it....
Perspective.
SMACK! (this one was my hand on my forehead.)
Today, I ranted about my displeasure in a certain shipping company that was supposed to have delivered a package today to my home for my son. My daughter was home and heard no knock, no ring of the bell and no vehicle idling in the driveway. (caveat - she is 18 and can sleep like the dead, but happened to be awake.) I received an e-mail stating they tried to deliver and a door tag number and they'd be back tomorrow to attempt delivery again.
Enter the son, whose package it was.... "Mom, there's no door tag. Not on the front door, the back door, the garage door or the barn door." Hmmmmm..... and the rant begins because my child is worried it's going to go to the wrong house, angry that his sister missed it, and frustrated that he was gone and so the "Momma Bear" gene kicks in....
As my rant drew comments of similar situations from friends with that same company, I started to feel bad about my words. Not about the anger regarding the situation, but the words. The person I so "un-lovingly" labled an idiot is someone's son or daughter, someone's husband or wife....
SMACK! (not me this time)
"Papa Bear" just smacked me.... (another name reference that we'll have to talk about later)
Not more than 10 minutes after that last "reminder", I heard the funeral announcements on the radio.
I sat absolutely still....
I had known he had gone to his Heavenly Home....but in the rush of my last couple of days hadn't paused to acknowledge it....
Lincoln...
The man I've blogged about before as a founding member of our small church many years ago, whose toothless grin could melt my heart because of the warmth coming from his eyes, finished his race and the funeral will be Friday.
Smack... (more gentle this time & again, not from me, because I wouldn't have been nearly as gentle)
Perspective....
I bowed my head....
Ashamed....
Linc wouldn't have been pleased....
My parent's didn't raise me to be like this. Dutch-Irish heritage can be both a blessing and a curse, but lashing out isn't what ANYONE needed from me today.
Not even myself.
Fast forward about an hour, as I'm sitting humbled in my chair, heart heavy and feeling condemned when the phone rings.
"Hello?"
"Are you sure?"
"I'd be honored. Thank you."
And just that quick, I feel an arm around my shoulder and I see a kind smile... I've just been asked to sing the National Anthem for opening ceremonies at the Clay County Relay For Life on Saturday.
Perspective...
Uncle Sal....
Papa Bear...
The Holy Spirit....
And I am thankful, humbled, and blessed to share the gift He gave me with a cause near and dear to my heart.
Smack.....
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