Whatever He Says

We drove west this evening into the sunset. The sky was palest robin's egg blue and the clouds gilt edged, creamy vanilla. The humble farmers' fields in the distance looked as though they were covered in cloth of gold as their snowy coverings reflected back the setting sun. I pondered a train of thought that had started earlier in the day about the times that God did things that seemed counterintuitive. With the benefit of hindsight it is easy to see humour in people's responses. I read one of them this morning: A disciple named Ananias was told in a vision to go to a house on Straight Street, and pray for a man from Tarsus named Saul, who had lost his sight. I smile whenever I read Ananias's response. Acts 9:13-14 (New International Version) 13 "Lord," Ananias answered, "I have heard many reports about this man and all the harm he has done to your saints in Jerusalem. 14 And he has come here with authority from the chief priests to arrest all who call ...

Tall and sedate, the highest branches were bare on one side, while golden yellow banners hung sparsely on the other. Fall winds blew brisk, swirling leaves, dry and brown, across the grass. The ravine sloped gently on one side but steeply in the other direction. The Boyne wove it's way east like a ribbon at the bottom of the valley. I found my way here to pray a while and salvage what was left of the day. The week had limped, me with a cold and scratchy throat, and a clogged main floor washroom that caused untold inconvenience. I post-poned my meetings with my Heavenly Father at 5:00 a.m. until cold's clutch released its hold on my energy. I am still waiting for restored health and those special morning times.  In fact, for most of the week I didn't get up to meet with my Heavenly Father in the quiet house of sleeping children. Instead I stayed in bed until the twins joined me, usually just before 6:00 a.m. We snuggled and nestled in folds of comforters in the pre-dawn dark...