Not Forgotten

The last couple of months have contained some wonderful moments, but they've also contained some really rough patches. I'm very thankful that things in Bekahland are running rather smoothly right now, because some of my friends are experiencing turmoil. I am not at liberty to go into details, but let's just say a number of days have demanded more from me than I thought I had to give.

I love my friends deeply and I do my best to be right there anytime I'm needed, but those of you who have that same approach to friendship will know it can often drain the heart. More nights than I care to number, I've counted on fleece sheets and down comforters to provide some sort of night-long pseudo-hug, and I've hoped the morning would bring a better day.

Much prayer, some long-suffering co-workers, and a handful of songs have gotten me through the days when I did not have one more ounce of strength. God is just good that way.

Last night I had the opportunity to go hear Reed, Craig and Dean in concert. (That would be Phillips, Craig and Dean, minus Phillips - who had a death in his family - plus a great fill-in whose last name was Reed.) My friend Marie was so gracious as to drive in the TRULY heinous weather we were having, since the concert was about a half hour away. CORRECTION. Half hour on a good day. Hour when you're driving 30 the whole way.

As I stood by the front door awaiting her arrival to pick me up, I noticed my garden flag was whipping and flapping in the wind. I thought about going out to retrieve it but I didn't want a hair re-style, so I ignored it.

When I came home, it was gone.

A silly thing, really. Just a garden flag. What, seven, eight dollars? Easily replaced. But it was the principle. I had time to take it down and I should have. I glanced around the yard as I got out of the car, but I knew it was futile. The wind whipped so fiercely that it was long gone. Yards away. And I didn't figure people would appreciate me hunting through their yards for my flag.

Today I woke up to a snow oddity. The back half of my driveway was bare and dry. The front half had a good foot high drift.

So after a day of fun, I trudged outside with my shovel to dig out the drive. About five minutes into the adventure...

My flag! Buried under the snow. Frozen stiff.

I could have cried, but I wasn't sure about ice cubes on my cheeks. Silly, I know, but bring on the proof that God cares about everything...all the way down to garden flags.

And these are the things that give me the strength to keep on going and keep on giving.