As I sit in this spacious place, I’m convinced this project enabled God to work in (sometimes) mysterious ways, and the physical end product wasn’t the main goal. The new construction meets needs both present and future, but it sure wouldn’t win a Best on the Block competition. I prefer to believe it worked God’s purposes, in our lives and others.
The birds feasted on fruitcake today. I confess to actually liking the much-maligned cake, but I’m not buying this particular brand again—all fruit and no cake—those pure-sugar candied fruits contain little taste. I determined to bake my own next Christmas season. We gave the builder a deadline of February 2—all work complete; no more finances. Parts of the house remain exposed, no gutters or insulation, and we continue to hear promises and experience no-shows.
I read today that I am the salt of the Earth, but worthless if I lose flavor. Is this how I restore flavor?
“You are the light of the world—like a city on a hilltop that cannot be hidden. No one lights a lamp and then puts it under a basket. Instead, a lamp is placed on a stand, where it gives light to everyone in the house. In the same way, let your good deeds shine out for all to see, so that everyone will praise your heavenly Father.” (Matthew 5:14-16 NLT)
New beginnings—yesterday accomplished basic garage organization. Actually felt excited about planting flowerbeds months away—heavy frost on ground with a forecasting of snow here and there.
Used the last page of this journal to call people to do odd stuff that needs finished before inspection—gutters, cut leftover quartz, move dirt.
Slow-dancing snowfall Friday morning—large, swirling, cleansing flakes. Cold enough not to melt on the ground—you could see them tilt on one or two points as they touched Earth.
Shattered icicles on the front porch: fallen from grace, melted in mercy.