This is Living

Today is my birthday, and 46 never felt so good.

In the morning, the kids sang happy birthday to me in the saddest voices you’ve ever heard because Matthieu woke them up early. But then they were off to get some administrative stuff done and I was able to have coffee, read the Bible, and pray in peace.

I got messages and texts and posts wishing me a happy birthday. I’m not usually all that sappy, but I was so touched by every expression of love it felt like God was actually tickling my heart.

It’s almost uncomfortable, this tickling.

Does that make any sense at all? 🙂

After lunch, I went to our church women’s meeting, which is held once a month in Paris. I got a parking spot right across the street! We sang worship songs, shared good news – there was so much good news. We talked about what it means to be a strong woman, and spent most of the time in small groups praying.

We prayed about Paris – yes. But we also prayed about Palestine, Syria, Kenya, Lebanon, Mali, India, Bangladesh – and on, and on.

Friends surprised me with a gluten-free cake and presents. I jumped up and down from all the excitement. (Just a little bit).

We drove home and Matthieu and the kids had cleaned the entire house.

And there were roses!

By the time I got home, Matthieu was getting ready to take the car out to do a good deed, along with a few other brothers. I won’t say what the good deed is, but it was my birthday present. I just want to laugh with delight – you know when you’ve been so covered in goodness and blessings and you can do that for someone else? Well … that. 🙂

It’s miserable and raining, of course.

And we are in heavy construction with no roof.

There is a pile of rubble outside.

But inside it’s warm and dry.

We’re all together.

The kids are here in one place.

There’s love and happiness.

It’s kind of like life, right? When such awful things are going on around us? Outside it’s dark and it feels like the night is only getting darker. It feels like the heavens are weeping over the tragedies without cease. Evil throws a massive pile of rubble to block our path.

But we, my friends, are lit from within.

Comments

I love to hear from you, friends. You can comment using the box below or your Facebook profile. But FB doesn't notify me of new comments, so if the post is more than a week old and you want to make sure I see your comment, it's better to use the comment box. Merci!