Wednesdays in the Word: Verse F

I told Ryan last night that I wasn't sure I could...or perhaps more importantly...should...write this post today, because I wasn't sure I was in the right frame of mind to give or receive anything of spiritual significance.

Yesterday was trying...from all angles. I won't even go into all the drama, but I think you'll understand how trying it was when I tell you I was too frustrated to cry. Whoa. Let THAT sink in. I actually didn't even know that was Bekah-ly possible.

Came home from work to relieve my mom from house sitting while the plumbers worked. It was digging day, so I expected a hole in my front yard. I wasn't entirely prepared for a trench in the front yard. But a trench is what we had, along with two men encrusted in mud pumping water out of a hole by the street. That can't be good.

I greeted them warmly and came inside to rest for a bit, because the day had wiped me out, and when I woke up a couple of hours later {feeling that awful achy feeling in my bones}, I could tell things had taken a turn for the worse during my nap.

Ryan was in and out and the bottom line was...we were going to be waterless for the night.

Even though I had called home at 2 in the afternoon to ask about water for the night...so I could make other plans accordingly if necessary. Oh no. We would have water. And in truth, the guys working in the hole did everything in their power to make sure we did have it...it just didn't happen.

And I cried. Ryan consoled me with a trip to Culver's...and I called my friend Ronda to see if I could possibly borrow a shower for the night...and of course while we were there, we filled up our pitcher to make coffee in the morning.

And somewhere in there, I sat on the couch feeling ever so defeated, from every angle, and I stared at my verse for this week:

Ryan asked me what I was going to do, and I said I'd postpone the verse and write about something else instead...but as I washed my hair in a borrowed shower, it hit me. I need this verse this week possibly more than any other.

When I'm facing long hours away from Ryan, and rising gas prices, and a house that needs to sell, and ever rising plumbing bills and frustrations, and uncertainty about the plans for our future, and...and...and...

...those are the moments I need thoughts of God's truth and honor and purity and loveliness and excellence.

...those are the moments I need to praise. No matter what.

Because as I stood in that borrowed shower, I felt the pang of conviction that our waterless night was just that...a night. And in the span of that night, I didn't go to bed thirsty or even smelly. Some people don't have that. Ever.

And then God brought to my mind one of Ryan's friends, whose mom sustained a head injury a few short weeks ago and every day, he sits by her bed knowing this might be the last day. And despite that deep pain, he posts words of praise even in his grief.

True. Honorable. Just. Pure. Lovely. Commendable. Excellent. Praiseworthy.

I don't have it down...but I'm learning.