Who knew that a tropical storm could do this much damage? So here I sit, by candlelight, eighteen hours after we lost power (I'm writing this at 9:00 p.m. on Sunday night, but I can't actually post it now because we don't have Internet capabilities at the moment), wondering what the week ahead will hold.
I know what I intended: a tight schedule of blog posting, emailing, and preparations for the launch of A Good and Perfect Gift, which officially debuts on Thursday.
And I know that the past three days have included everything but what I intended—an abbreviated trip to Connecticut and then a day in New Jersey with three kids and no electricity. I can bemoan the inconvenience. We are a bit dirty and weary and our orange juice will probably be bad by the morning and I may need to pack the kids up again and head to my parents' house if we don't have power tomorrow.
Or I can recognize a hurricane is yet another limitation on my ability to control my own universe. I can offer up gratitude for the day we just had—for doing puzzles with Penny and William . . . for margaritas with local friends whose refrigerator works (and who took our milk and chicken and cheese until we can take them back) . . . for splashing in puddles with our kids . . . for the look of delight on Penny's face as we looked at flash cards together and she realized that there are some words, just a few, that she can read by sight—"I can do this, Mom!" . . . for an hour of reading the Bible and praying in bed and happening upon a passage in Exodus about the Sabbath and being reminded that today, Sunday, is meant to be a day of rest and celebration, a sign that we live in relationship to a holy and yet intimate God . . .
