I can't get enough oatmeal. With toast. Sometimes I have it for lunch, sometimes I have it for dinner, sometimes I have it for lunch AND dinner..... Oatmeal is my staple food now. I think it's funny that throughout the stages of my pregnancy, the foods I can't get enough of have been breakfast foods. First it was pancakes, then Cheerios, now oatmeal. What's in store for me next??
My belly is making things a little harder, also. I can't lean across my desk if I'm sitting down. Hugging Brent (or anyone for that matter) is a little tricky. And thank heavens I found a body pillow on sale, or else my sleep would be severely hindered, trying to keep my body balanced otherwise.
Really in the last two weeks, not much has changed, save for the growing belly and the increased forgetfulness. But today - today was a most special day, and I really want to share.
I'm not going to lie - I detest Mondays. Mondays start off with a staff meeting 15 minutes after I get to work. I don't like to talk to people, or be addressed, until I've been awake for at least three hours. When I get to work, I'm lucky to have been awake for an hour and a half. Then, to have to sit through a meeting first thing....dear gracious, I would rather pull splinters out of my toes. So this morning, I was expecting any other Monday. For some reason, though, I enjoyed most of the meeting, and it was relatively painless. I went on about my day, and sailed through to lunch. Rarely do I enjoy a Monday, so it was already a great day!
I came home and fixed up some oatmeal. You think I'm kidding. I've got it down to a science as far as the serving size and time in the microwave. There's nothing better, I'm telling you. I dinked around on the computer, and finally left to head back to work. As I started backing out of the driveway, I was having a conversation with myself in my head. You do it too, admit it.
"Oh...I'd better check the mail, you know in case we get that big check! Ha ha!" (Sometimes I make myself laugh....Oh come ON, you do it too!)
I walked to the mailbox, grabbed a bill, a Christmas card, and an unidentified piece of mail. It was a bright orange envelope, no return address, and I certainly did not recognize the handwriting.
I went back to the car, threw the mail in the seat and drove back to work. A few streets away from the office, my sister called. I answered and talked to her as I parked and walked inside. I shut my office door as to not disturb anyone, and started to end the conversation with my sister. I grabbed my purse to fling it under my desk, and remembered the mail. I opened the bill, and the small blessing was I owed less than I thought! That's always good news, right? I opened the Christmas card and smiled to myself - a friend of Mom's, they used to work together - is the cutest thing on two legs. A spitfire from the east, who fits in splendidly in the Midwest, and calls herself my Auntie. And she's earned that title for sure.
I moved on to the mysterious orange envelope. It felt like a card, and that's what I was expecting.
It was a card, alright. A gift card. To the grocery store. For a generous amount. There was a typed note on the inside that read, "Merry Christmas! God Bless! Faithful Servants of Jesus Christ."
You know what's next. I am that predictable. I cried. Right there at my desk, I slumped over and cried.
I don't know who it was from, or what led them to bless Brent and me in such a way. But know that I have been praying and requesting prayers for some financial stability as we continue this venture to become parents. With the grocery gift card, I can buy a substantial serving of meals for us. I can also apply that money I would have spent on groceries to dumping our debt, which is a huge burst of stability for future planning. This was an answer to prayer. An answer for all those I've asked to be praying for me.
I've said it before, and I will say it again. Every time I question, or start to feel like I'm fading in my faith, God proves - in the most incredible ways - how unconditionally He loves, and how desperately He fights to save each one of us. I don't deserve it - not a single bit. I don't deserve the gift card, and it humbles me greatly that someone would be so generous to me, the wretched creep I am. But God told me today, loud and clear, that I am His and He will take care of me (and Brent and Ziggy) with everything He is.
Whoever sent that card - I pray they are blessed ten-fold. They may never realize how their act of generosity potentially saved Brent's and my month of December. They are a hero (or heroes) in my eyes. A literal God-send.
I pray the same for each of you - that you see and hear and feel when God sends you a blessing, and that you honor Him for it!
