Whew! Thank God it’s Friday. Really. It’s the end of a very stressful week. According to my plan, I should have been on my way to the Congo right now. But unfortunately my plans have changed. When I found out we were unable to obtain the travel visas, I began making phone calls to cancel airline tickets and the airport bus reservations and attempt to recover some of the finances I wired to the Congo country director to prepare for our team’s arrival. The decision to deny our visas was made because we were unaware of certain immigration documents needed for our entry to the country. Please pray for the recovery of our passports, reimbursement of funds, and the conferences that will be held without our Freedom In Christ 2016 team. So what’s next on my calendar? Not sure. For today, let’s focus on rediscovering joy, accepting our next assignment, and stepping into our re-appointment.
I’ve found when Iaugh at my mistakes or misfortunes, I can get back up and start over again. Nehemiah 8:10 says, “For the joy of the Lord is your strength.” Let’s take a “joy break.” Here’s some help from a poem called Ode To January:
‘Twas the month after Christmas, and all through the house nothing would fit me, not even a blouse.
The cookies I’d nibbled, the eggnog I’d taste At the holiday parties had gone to my waist.
When I got on the scales there arose such a number!
When I walked to the store (less a walk than a lumber).
I’d remember the marvelous meals I’d prepared; The gravies and sauces and beef nicely rared,
The cider and the rum balls, the bread and the cheese And the way I’d never said, ‘No thank you, please.’
As I dressed myself in my husband’s old shirt And prepared once again to do battle with dirt –
I said to myself, as I only can ‘You can’t spend a winter disguised as a man!’
So – away with the last of the sour cream dip, Get rid of the fruit cake, every cracker and chip
Every last bit of food that I like must be banished ‘Till all the additional ounces have vanished.
I won’t have a cookie – not even a lick.
I’ll want only to chew on a long celery stick.
I won’t have hot biscuits, or corn bread, or pie, I’ll munch on a carrot and quietly cry.
I’m hungry, I’m lonesome, and life is a bore. But isn’t that what January is for?
Unable to giggle, no longer a riot.
Happy New Year to all and to all a good diet!