for those who think God is asleep on the job

One of the benefits of having older children, is you get your Friday night back. When my kids were babies, every day just sort of blurred into the other. My husband worked on weekends as well, so there wasn't even the looking forward to having help on Saturday. I never knew what day it was, nor am I confident I ever knew the year, time, or my own age. (I still don't. But pretty sure I am still 25. ) Babies do that to you.

But babies, God willing, grow up. And days have structure. Routines set in. And here we are. Friday. No lunches to get up and pack tomorrow. No homework to make sure is done tonight. (I actually don't check my kids homework, I only said that for those of you that are better parents than I am, so that you think I am a good parent) And when it is Friday, no need to worry about what is for dinner. Because it is pizza.

But it is not always easy getting to Friday, is it?

Ironically, the morning after posting about my beautiful early rising prayer time, I woke to a sink full of dishes, could not find my reading glasses, then lost my highlighter, and basically, declared that my life was awful. I stomped around in the dark and let the weariness creep in.

I had three friends wind up in the hospital this week.

I had two dogs that got out...again...and were lured back in with the EXPENSIVE deli meat.

There was the morning my car wouldn't start.

The morning I had a flat tire.

The conversation I would rather not have had to have.

The dinner I actually put thought, time and effort into that was really, really awful.

The stress at my husband's work.

The fear in my heart.

The trip to Adoration to find out that I had missed Adoration.

The conference call I completely spaced.

And all of these undesirable circumstances resulted in the tallying up of unanswered prayers, and the obvious conclusion that my God is clearly sleeping on the job.

And you know I say that totally not meaning it. I am like a four year old. Or ten year old. Or sixteen year old. I will tell you I hate you, and push you way, but what I really mean is, "can I have a hug?" as I pull you in closer.

So, where is my God? Where was my hug this week?

At the grocery store, the cashier, maybe about my age (which is not 25, but more like 45, or something like that) with a very heavy accent smiled at me and said, "Laura Phelps! I had a dear friend, Laura Phelps, in Scotland! You just reminded me of her!" And as I wondered how a woman from Scotland ends up as a cashier in Newtown, CT, I witnessed the sweet smile of reminiscence on her face, while the young girl with a disability I can not name, carefully packed my groceries, as if they were the most important things ever. These two incredibly beautiful women? Gods loving embrace.

When my car would not start, and our meeting was soon to begin, my dear friend , who had been icing her swollen head all morning from stitches, drove out of her way (even though she would say that it wasn't, but it was) to pick me up. We laughed at how this car ride allowed us to finally have time to talk, as our schedules have both been so full, and a simple cup of coffee has been impossible to put on the calendar. This kind friend? Gods caring embrace.

At my youngest son's chorus concert last night, I ran up the aisle to get closer video of the kids singing The Rainbow Connection, and as I filmed, a tiny girl, head to toe in pink, with wispy blond hair, hummed along, not knowing the words, but singing anyway. If a rosebud could sing, it would sound like this sweet girl. This little innocent? Gods pure gentle embrace.

As I dragged my heavy heart and weary feet through yesterday mornings routine, I got a text from a long distant friend. She simply wanted me to know that she loves me, but even more so, that God loves me...that He SEES me, and that she was grateful for the good work God was doing. That was it. This faith filled friend? Gods encouraging embrace.

This morning as I backed out of the garage, my husband who had just been walking up the driveway with the dog raised his hand up for me to stop. My tire? It was nearly completely flat. I had no idea. My beloved pumped my tire full of air, and sent me off safely. This man to the rescue? Gods protecting embrace.

I met a friend for coffee at Dunkin' Donuts, because she was seeking advice about therapy and anxiety and all those things my family has mastered. While we were there, a woman from church, who approached me a month or so ago when she saw me praying sorrowfully, walked over to me, put her hand on my shoulder and said, "I am still praying." One woman seeking comfort, and the other offering it. These two? Gods humble and merciful embrace.

I could go on and on, really, when I sit and think about it. For almost every circumstance that dragged me down, God worked through another to lift me up. Do you see how nothing is wasted? No chore, no stress, no weariness, no encounter, no nothing. He uses it all, and it is all for His glory, but we have to be awake to it. When we allow ourselves to get too overwhelmed by a life that often feels hopeless, we fail to open our eyes to the Hope right in front of us. What if we stopped tallying up the ways God has let us down, and replace it with thanking Him for the innumerable ways He shows up. Because the truth is, this God? He doesn't sleep on the job. He is always at work. When you so don't feel His presence, He is never closer.

To the cashier, the friends, the little girl, the spouse, the woman from church....thank you for the beauty, love, care, gentleness, encouragement, protection, humility and mercy you embraced me with. God sees you too.