It's Friday
Twenty-seven years ago, yesterday. We celebrated by going to a restaurant we reserve for very special occasions. While we savored dessert, the waitress brought dessert to a "little, old couple" in the corner behind us. Their dessert had candles, and the waitress wished them a happy anniversary. We left together and when asked how many years they were celebrating, the husband said 40 to go till the 100th! I wish we had been able to talk with them a little more, but maybe we'll see them next May 26th!
Hubby was grateful to the music teacher at our tiny elementary school for these flowers given to me the evening before our anniversary. For seventeen years, I have had the privilege of accompanying the students here twice a year ~ a Holiday Concert in December, and then the Spring Concert in May. Accompanying is something I love to do, to be underneath and supporting, to anticipate and adjust, to jump quickly when a director inadvertently skips a few measures, and hopefully make it all sound like it's supposed to be that way.
Our granddaughter is sick again. Pneumonia in both lungs. I am trying to choose joy and praise. I want to shake my fist and holler at the top of my lungs, especially when her pediatrician tells her young parents that it will probably be pneumonia that gets her. Of course they know that. The DNR/DNI paperwork is in the diaper bag. A roller-coaster ride on a balance beam ~ trying to comprehend "there's nothing more we can really do" and balance it out with wanting to do whatever we can do to help her breathe. For the moment it is another round of antibiotics and a visit with the pulmonologist in Boston today. For a grandmother, it is a moment to CAST and not vent. In the Psalms, David was casting all his cares upon God, not venting. Casting has a hope and a purpose. I know God is God and He knit Amber together in this way. Her life will be as long as He has already set and it will be a full life for His honor and glory. A verse we chose for our marriage:
Habakuk 3:17-19 Though the fig tree does not bud, and there are no grapes on the vines, though the olive crop fails
and the fields produce no food,
though there are no sheep in the pen
and no cattle in the stalls,
18 yet I will rejoice in the LORD,
I will be joyful in God my Savior.
19 The Sovereign LORD is my strength;
he makes my feet like the feet of a deer,
he enables me to tread on the heights.
For the director of music. On my stringed instruments.
Twenty-seven years ago, yesterday. We celebrated by going to a restaurant we reserve for very special occasions. While we savored dessert, the waitress brought dessert to a "little, old couple" in the corner behind us. Their dessert had candles, and the waitress wished them a happy anniversary. We left together and when asked how many years they were celebrating, the husband said 40 to go till the 100th! I wish we had been able to talk with them a little more, but maybe we'll see them next May 26th!
Hubby was grateful to the music teacher at our tiny elementary school for these flowers given to me the evening before our anniversary. For seventeen years, I have had the privilege of accompanying the students here twice a year ~ a Holiday Concert in December, and then the Spring Concert in May. Accompanying is something I love to do, to be underneath and supporting, to anticipate and adjust, to jump quickly when a director inadvertently skips a few measures, and hopefully make it all sound like it's supposed to be that way.
Those verse are just what I needed to read.I pray that your precious Amber will be well again.I do hope you get to celebrate many more anniversaries together.
ReplyDeleteHappy Anniversary!! What a neat idea...to choose a marriage verse! And what a great verse you chose.
ReplyDeleteIndeed accompanying and being supportive seem to come so naturally to you...both musically and with your family.
This post is such a beautiful testimony of your faith. Praying for you guys. Today's sermon was so timely was it not -- about how we do not know what to pray for but the Spirit Himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express.