Covenants

I mentioned yesterday that I had a cool God-lesson this past week, and I wanted to tell you about it.

Before I tell you...I should explain to you one of my {many} quirks.

I'm one of those people who sort of lives a "concrete" life. Nothing's tentative. Everything's absolute. At least in my head. Oh how rarely that plays out in reality. Here's an example. If Ryan says to me, "I was thinking about pizza for dinner," what I hear is "I've ordered a two topping pizza and we're picking it up in 20 minutes." I've asked him, especially where food is concerned, to not even voice something unless he's sure...because once I hear it...it's happening.

So when Lynne and I were planning the layout for our new office, we pulled out a measuring tape and our ever-so-creative visionary minds and went to work. And I knew...I knew...in my head and heart exactly how that office was going to look. I could see myself sitting behind my U-shaped desk, looking out the door...occasionally glancing over to see out the huge, gorgeous window...and tossing side-remarks to Lynne, who would be just over to my right. I envisioned the wall of bookshelves at our backs...all the titles lovingly alphabetized.

And then the room finally became finished enough that we were able to start moving in...and the changes began.

Lynne's desk couldn't fit the originally planned direction because of the placement of the hutch on the side...which would stick into the window space too far. So we rotated the direction of the desks, making my computer face a wall instead of the doorway. I shook off the change, knowing the desk had three sides, and I could just swivel another way and gaze out the window.

Well...until we realized the change in desk placement meant the bookshelves couldn't line the wall like we'd planned, so we turned them into a room divider - three on Lynne's side and three on mine. And that divider fully blocked my view of the window.

I cried. It's a silly thing to cry about. We had a lovely, new office in a quiet part of the building and I was so grateful for it...but I mourned the loss of everything I'd planned about my new quarters. After a couple of days, I lifted my chin and sat at my laptop, searching through my albums of pictures for the perfect picture to have printed on canvas...something I could hang right above my computer to make me feel like I was outside.

And I settled on one Ryan took it during our cruise last summer - one that was so striking to me.

It arrived in its massive grandeur, and I placed it beside my desk, waiting for one of the guys to come in and hang it up for me.

I'd also purchased a heavy memo board to be placed on a side wall - something I need for hanging my papers and such. And as I waited for them to be hung, I learned that the side wall...is a cement wall. Can't hang anything on it. And the memo board is so heavy, I don't trust Command strips to hold it.

So that meant...once again changing the office plan. The pretty picture would have to sit up on top of my hutch - where I can't even see it from my desk - and I'd have to hang the memo board above my desk.

I glanced over my framed wedding picture next to my Keurig and said softly, "Well, I guess that's going to be my pretty scenery."

I realize in the grand scheme of life, this is so petty, but it was so hard to go from what I thought my every day view was going to be...to what it became in reality. I lugged a chair over to my desk and climbed up to lean the canvas against the wall and asked God to help me transition better in my heart than I felt at that moment.

Friday morning during Mid-Morning, my heart struggled. Not with the office, but just with life. The whole office setup seemed to be a picture of my life at large. One change after another that we've not expected...new hurdles, new disappointments, and the constant wondering of what's coming next.

I prayed as the show aired...and halfway through, I glanced over, through the window of the studio, into our office, and I saw it:

That picture, in its new spot, is now visible from my engineering chair. And I drank in the scene...the dark, stormy sky...the rainbow....the bright clouds...and God whispered to my heart, "It's your life. Your sky is dark, but My promise remains, and the brightness is right behind it."

My eyes filled with tears right there in that chair. Had the picture been where I wanted it...I never would have seen it from my seat in the studio. But in the moment I needed it most...it was visible. The plan B location is not a lesser one. It's the right one.

Clinging to the reminder of the picture as we face the obstacles of life as a whole right now. He is faithful.