If my life was a cartoon a huge ACME weekly planner would
drop out of the sky, hit me on the head and smash me, bump-by-bump, into the
ground. That’s what life does when I
think all my ducks are in a row.
My work goes well as does that of the wife. So we take a deep breath and start making
plans. Then one of my employees goes out
on disability. Next we learn that what
we thought was a secure position for the wife isn’t secure. It’s open to someone transferring into her
position and bumping her to a different location or no job at all. Add to that looming rumors of strikes and
downsizing and the row of ducks no longer seems solid. We begin to fret.
Fretting causes me to realize that I’m off course. I went from trusting in God for security to
believing that the Dillo household was making it happen. “Hey God, thanks for the help but we’ve got
it from here!” Somewhere in the mix I
remember the prayer that every church member knows, “Give us this day our daily
bread.” I forget that there’s a Wile E.
Coyote out to do me in, a lion seeking someone to devour.
Isn’t that how it goes though? Trust for daily sustenance isn’t so important
when the fridge is full and there’s money in the bank account. The forgiver is forgotten. It is just the gifts that are
celebrated. Saying ‘grace’ at every meal
becomes ritual not heartfelt. The silos
are full; God wouldn’t say to me “tonight thy soul is required of thee.”
These little bumps and ankle biters are reminders that our
sweat and scheming didn’t open the doors for job security and providential
care. We are reminded that anvils and
large rocks fall from the sky and threaten our well being. Difficult tests will come. Grace will sustain and God will bless. Give
us this day our daily bread for we know not what tomorrow brings.
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