Packing

The day before THE DAY has come.

I didn't think about this day much. So, I'm having to process as I go about my billion things.

11:30 am and 2 cups of coffee down, still nothing in my suitcase. Looking at my empty suitcase I feel the anxiety I use to feel when I was in art class and Mrs Jackie would give us blank canvases to have our way with. Up until this point this trip has been this idealized image in my head. I know that no matter what I do the image I had in my head will not be what actually makes it on to the canvas. I know that for sure because I have God in play, He guarantees what I have imagined happening won't happen exactly--I am counting on Him having his way in these plans.. but I still have a twinge of anxiousness.


Zephaniah 3:17 (NIV, 1984)
              The Lord your God is with you,
               the Mighty Warrior who saves.
              He will take great delight in you;
              He will quiet you with his love,
              He will rejoice over you with singing.


Small win, I have hacked my iPod and am able to nab the 3k + songs on it and add them to the other 500 songs I have. So I FINALLY will have one complete playlist... hopefully. That is the goal at least.

Sitting in the Dark

Hurricane Irene has blown through the region, leaving debris and copious amounts of water in her wake. As well as hundreds of thousands of people without power, including the Miller household. I admit, I have grown accustom to having electricity at my fingertips and I tremble at the thought of those that live every moment of every day without running water, air conditioning or even a fan. I have surges of hope for the restoration of our power every time I venture out of our home down the road to a store that has a/c and a working bathroom. I am even to the point of giddy when coming home tonight, I saw the power trucks crawling up and down our country road. 

As much as I would like the return of light, I have actually enjoyed the blackness. 

I enjoy spending some time sitting on our back porch in the dark, thinking and writing. Listening to the critters and low rumble of distant generators. (We do have a generator, but it went on the fritz earlier) 

Something I noticed this evening. When I came outside, my eyes had difficulty adjusting to the inky blackness. but when I looked up, the adjustment was quick. the stars were breath-taking and easy to look at compared to trying to adjust my eyes at the trees around me. 

I wonder if that is what life is supposed to be like? -- Easier to look at the glorious beauty of God, than the bland haze of the world. 

Maybe we have convinced ourselves that fighting out eye's adjustment to the world is "easier" than gazing on His face.