You know, sometimes God just has to knock me upside my head to get my attention. This time, it was more than once.
A couple of days ago, we took our son and two of his kids out in the boat to swim in the middle of the lake, away from the jetskiers who love to zoom through our little cove because there are no snags or trees there.
My darling put up the canopy so I wouldn't get burned, and off we went with an armload of towels and a cooler full of drinks. We anchored in deep cool water, and everone jumped in. Within twenty minutes the wind blew up hard, the waves were whitecapping, and the sky was dark. So we headed back to the dock.
We were within sight of the dock when WHAM! One of the canopy straps broke, and the metal bar fell on my head.
Next day, I was cleaning out the cabinet under the sink. I found that about half a bottle of dish detergent had leaked out and turned into a kind of goopy paste, we had both paper plates and paper bowls that I had thought were used up, and a small electric grill that I had completely forgotten we had was hiding way at the back of the cabinet.
I raised up to get a rag out of the sink to clean up the goopy soap stuff, and banged my head on the top of the cabinet.
Then, yesterday afternoon, we were sitting out in the yard talking, while son tended the smoker, on which were cooking a big brisket and a juicy chicken, which meant I would not have to cook for two or three days. I was sitting in one of those molde plastic chairs,on a slope, in soft ground (sandy soil), and husband had just handed me a cold frosty wine cooler, when I felt the downhill legs of my chair start to sink into the ground.
It was like a cartoon, slow motion fall. Very slow, but without time to catch myself, jump out of the chair, or even yell "help". I smacked my head again, scraped up my arm and leg, and now have a purple knot on my other knee.
At least I didn't spill the grape cooler.
so that is three times in three days.
Three bumps on the head.
How does this have anything to do with God?
Well. Last night I was squeegeeing the shower, thinking about putting in a load of laundry, and wondering in the dim misty back part of my mind why we still haven't found teaching jobs for the fall.
Suddenly, plain as anything, I heard Him say, "The place is not prepared yet."
God speaking to me in the shower, stark nekkid, thinking about laundry and cleaning the shower walls. Is that sacriligious? I don't even know how to spell that.
Wick and I agreed when we resigned that we no longer belonged at the place we were last school year. We agreed that God had some other place in mind for us, plans for us to accomplish something for him somewhere else.
Why hasn't He showed us yet where?
"The place is not prepared yet."
Okay, God, you have my attention.
Just as surely as if You had knocked me upside the head.
Prepare the place.