The spiral notebook with my Holy Week "Surrendering" list remains open on the kitchen counter, but the box of Easter decorations is untouched - except when I move it out of the way.
The laundry machine won't fill properly, I hurt my back lifting a too-heavy bag of bird seed (why did Louis buy such a large bag anyway?), the printer quits working in the middle of a 40-page document, and I discover that the mail delivery lady has stuffed a cardboard box of books from Amazon so tightly into the mailbox (she HAD to have used a hammer), that I almost tear down the mail box trying to pry it out, scraping off green paint along the way.
And two weeks after the warranty expires, I pray over it and beg God to make it work, but my Nikon slowly but surely bites the dust and will need to check into where ever it is that Nikon's go when they need to be resuscitated (no where near my one-grocery-store town, I'm sure), and my articles with photos are due, and it sure would be nice to have a good camera for Easter and for when the first of two grandlittles due this summer are born this month.
And I'm home alone, but I'm sure someone just tapped my shoulder and whispers in my ear, "Testing 1, 2, 3. Testing 1, 2, 3."
And I laugh. Well, of course.
I can't even surrender without grace.
