Turning Cool

The weather man says we may have our first frost tonight. I hate to see the flowers go. But today I'm writing about another coolness. Last night I went to bed very burdened about a person I care about who seems to be drawing away and turning cool. I tried to blame myself; what might I have said or done to cause it? I couldn't find a thing, so then I embarked on a fruitless search for what I could do to fix it. At last I noticed the lighted frog figurines that always sit on our lamp table to remind us to Fully Rely On God. I needed that reminder! I chose to rely on Him for this troubled relationship as well, and I fell asleep. Each time I woke up through the night, it seemed that every beat of my heart--echoed in my poundy head--was repeating my prayer, "Lord, save her. Lord, save her."

My stack of goodies for the rescue mission is growing. And the load on my mind is getting lighter. If God chooses to give me longer life, it will be sweeter with less clutter. And if He chooses to call me Home, the very difficult task Chuck and the girls face will be somewhat easier. Some things go on the pile without a tug. But giving books away is like giving up friends. (It's not as though I'm leaving my shelves empty. I still have more of that kind of "friends" than I deserve.) The rescue mission has a wonderful ministry with people who desperately need a break in life, and I hope my stuff brings in a little cash for their work.

Last year we made friends with a darling Swiss-Chinese American couple who are going to Africa as missionaries with SIM. They're now back in town for their final visit before departure, and we get to have them over for dinner tonight. I'm so excited to see them again.

First, though, I get to see what that magazine draft looks like in the cold light of Monday morning, and then send each article around the world to everyone concerned with it for their approval. This is a good point to reach in the process.

The more I study about my kind of cancer, the more I realize the miracle of feeling so well at this stage of the disease. When I carry on normal work and play, I sense that your prayers and God's kindness are holding me up. Thank you.

Love,
Carol