Praise to the Lord, the Almighty

I woke to the lovely sound of rain this morning. Cal is out of town, and our homeschool class is canceled and the kids will sleep in and perhaps I might have as well. As I lay there talking to God about His blessings and hoping to drift back to sleep and not being able to and getting struck by the phrase "give us this day our daily bread", suddenly it came to mind (may I say He put it in my mind) that I had to recover our van from Fort Lauderdale where it died on us last night after a wonderful meeting of prayer at the Guyton home. (I could not tow it last night for the mechanic's warehouse was all locked up.) I telephoned AAA to discover that I had to be with the car; I could not just order a tow from downtown Fort Lauderdale and stay in my nice, warm bed. Last night, after friend Wendy came in to Fort Lauderdale to rescue Peter and me, she insisted on loaning me her car while my van was in the shop. Though I tried to turn her down, now I was thankful because I could drive in to meet the tow truck guy. Jumping out of bed, I began singing a tune which I recognized as a psalter tune, though I hadn't a clue which one.

Now the rain was coming hard. As it was rush hour, I may as well slow my pace a little and avoid both the traffic and the rain. I wasn't permitted to order the tow until I was able to be there. An idea of picking up a dozen doughnuts to take to the Guytons came to me, but mindful of the endangered economy, I thought that it was an extravagance that they were not expecting. Why not throw together a batch of cowboy cookies? And some for Mitch the Mechanic, too. And maybe, since I'd be out east, I could stop by and see Betty Frances. And return the frame for the Leetch painting that was not quite right. And stop at Hollywood Christian Academy and sign Peter up for taking the PSATs next Wednesday. (I have long ago given up pursing information about his scholarship tests because I have too much to think about and can't figure it all out. I left that to Providence. And Providence provided: last night I saw a brochure in Wendy's car about the PSATs and learned that her son was taking them next Wednesday and Peter could, too, if I would just drop by and register him.) And I could also pick up the piece that Grace needed for finishing the skirt she sewed yesterday. Cool. How nicely things work out.

Gathering my purse and shoes and Wendy's keys, I went to the kitchen to turn the softened butter into a half batch of cowboy cookies. It was still pouring. While baking the cookies I read this morning's reading out of Spurgeon. Interrupted by a call back from Susan. I had hoped to find out what the psalm tune was, so that I could know what it was that God was showing me today. Good to her reputation, she identified Psalm 40C from The Book of Psalms for Singing.

O Lord my God, how many are the wonders Thou hast done!
How many are the gracious thoughts Which thou toward us hast shown!
No one can sort and set them out; None can compare to Thee!
If I would tell and speak of them, They could not numbered be.

We talked, Susan and I, about her conversation with her teacher yesterday about how all of life ought to be an act of worship. And then I remembered that that was what the cowboy cookies were about. Praising God for the dear friends, Guytons. Not a payback for anything. Just a joyful act of worship.

The morning unfolded more perfectly than I could ever have designed, and full of clear providences. Like my cell phone holding a charge through the entire morning though as I was starting out the low battery warning was beeping. Or the tow truck guy, Kevin, getting there just before I did, and starting the hook up before I got there, even without all my AAA and ID information. And the chance to witness to Kevin only to learn he was a believer. But then hearing his telltale dependence on his own goodness, to which I was able to minister the words we had heard from Dr. Reymond this past Lord's Day. And the quick peek into the Guytons' orderly homeschool.

I drove on to surprise Betty Frances with a visit, only to find the house dark. Not wanting to wake her dad, or her if she were sleeping off a bad night with him, I tried calling both her phones with no luck. I left to fill Wendy's car with gas at our favorite RaceTrac near church. Then realized my path home would take me right past the mechanic (I arrived just as he was diagnosing the problem), the academy (a student aide showed up as I parked and helped me to find the right office), the frame store (I didn't even need to get out my receipt. I found the same frame with a better liner for the same price and the exchange didn't take a minute!), Michael's (who would not take back my frames without my receipt so I'll have to go there later), and Joann's Fabrics to pick up a tie for Grace's new skirt.

I came home to find the kids working on laundry while watching Mr. Deeds Goes to Town. And why not on this rainy day with class canceled? I pulled out all our leftovers and brought them up for lunch. Just enough for the five of us.

Now the battery is re-charged. I have word that my van is fixed. And Betty Frances just called and her husband is also out of town and she is in the area getting new tires for her car. While I was in her driveway this morning, she was witnessing to her Dad's caretaker over blueberry pancakes. She told me all about it on the phone just now while I was making myself an iced coffee. So it was good that she was doing that and not interrupting such important stuff for the walk on the beach that she would like to have had with me. But now. Now she is going to pick me up and help me get my car and I am going to help her clean her apartment while we listen to some sermons and then we are going to take in a movie for free (we have free tickets!) and then walk on the beach after all!

From Susan's conversation with me this morning: She was telling me how wonderful the rich fellowship she is having with three truly Christian friends that God has given her this year. (They would be skipping chapel today, the speaker promoting the gay/lesbian chapter on campus) for some sort of a time of prayer that her buddies were designing. I suggested that she never could have imagined such goodness last summer when she was in the worst of a lonely struggle. Her response: "Yeah, if only we had remembered that God is good" And so this quickly written testimony on a day when the world is terrified over our financial debacle. God is good. Praise to the Lord, the Almighty Lord. His blessings continue to pour over my head as heavy as this morning's rain.

"Hast thou not seen how thy desires e'er have been granted in what he ordaineth."