grace in progress

It is 11:30 a.m.

The better part of the last two hours have been spent looking for the Heritage Studies 2 student notebook.

There came a time.  I felt it coming.  The Holy Spirit warned.

A pitiful, adult-style meltdown was in my future, if I didn't break hard and put a stop to the downward spiral of frustration.

I felt like crying, and raging at my absent-minded husband--away at school-- who had the notebook last.

And then I remembered.  Pray specifically.  Pray without ceasing.

Nothing is too small for God, just as nothing is too big.

I had prayed that I wouldn't lose patience with the kids while I searched, but it never occurred to me to pray specifically for help in my search.

My already-burdened husband didn't need a drippy-faucet wife heaping more grief on his head, the minute he walked in the door.

So I prayed specifically.

God, where should I look next?

Look in the loose-leaf notebooks section.

Ten minutes later, I had the social studies resource in hand.

Husband had placed it in a notebook marked Science, 2008-09.


Never mind that it's a social studies resource, and never mind that we're in 2009-10.

Is it the inattentive-type ADHD?  Or just a fluke?

Whichever it is, I am practicing bullseye grace.

I will not mention this fiasco, much as I'd like to remind husband to clue me in when he decides to "reorganize".

While I typed this, my son came into the house at least seven times, wanting to relay some "important" tidbit.  He makes a habit of giving me running commentary about his outside adventures.

Every five minutes.

When Beth is sleeping and I'm rushing around trying to get something done, his running commentary wears on me.

But in practicing bullseye grace, I concentrate on the sweetness of it.

He doesn't want me to miss anything.

The last time he came in, he said;

"Last night at VBS I told my teacher that I prayed for cicadas.  And guess what!  I found one already!"

Next, he put the ugliest creature imaginable in my face.  I usually only get cicada carcasses put in my face.  But this was a living, writhing creature, legs moving madly.

All I can think of now is how blessed that teacher will be tonight, when my overly-excited, nature-loving son tells her about his cicada.

Hopefully, she will remember his prayer.  And be reminded, as I am:


Delight thyself also in the LORD: and he shall give thee the desires of thine heart.


Psalm 37:4