Chicken in the Sky--and He Will Lift My Head, Too!

Well, that chicken wasn't really in the sky, but there she was, perched on the tiptop log on one pile of firewood that the guys had gotten recently.

Right on top of all that pile of work and mess and chunks of whatever she felt like she needed to be on top of--

like I feel right now with certain plans switched around as to when Jonathan and I are leaving for tomorrow's possible chemo treatment (because of all the business/mission shopping he has to do around my chemo) and me just having to sit down for a few minutes to check out of the dizzying world--

and forget about all the food items, clothing, overnight gear, vitamins, and emergency stuff I have to pack up still for two nights away (or not--it's still undecided, which makes me dizzy).

I'm diving into my blog for a few minutes to share moments of grace in the middle of the chunks of work and muddle and worries.

Like moments when Crystal or Carrie or Hannah sit down at the piano...

or when Crystal and I get to watch the delightful Thanksgiving program Ricky Grubbs' mother's school children shared in Galax, VA.  Crystal didn't think she had time, but I was watching and exclaiming and oohing and ahhing, and she ended up watching some of the time, too.

And there were the moments when my niece Krissy helped Crystal and me  decorate the long-empty bulletin board in the church basement. The best part was putting on the stars.

We used some things Crystal had saved from when she did Christmas bulletin boards for the school where she taught.

There was the one above (a picture she shared with me from her phone)  

and this one. 

We combined the two to make this one. 

And Krissy being along with her helpful and cheerful self, made it a fun time of cheering up a chilly basement and an empty bulletin board. I had thought that board was half again as big as it was. It seemed to fill up a whole cavernous wall.

Instead, it was not much bigger than most, just that it took up most of the wall around the corner of the church stairs.

It was so much smaller than I had imagined it when we actually decided to do something about it--like many things are when you just worry or fret about them.

They look like whole big walls of blankness and distress until you take God with you and actually look at it with the thought of Him fixing it. And then He helps you with it, and it isn't so big after all. 

He shares the weight of all our cares and burdens, and lifts up our head until we sit like a star on top of a Christmas tree, 

lifting us so that we can stand on mountains of logs, firewood, worries, problems, and opposition with our head held high

under His big blue sky.