You are sleeping peacefully, and suddenly you jerk awake.
What was that?
Your sleepy husband lets you know it was the helium balloon on the ceiling.
There's this sudden soft bumpety, bump, bump, bump!
Hannah had put the balloon close to the wood stove to heat the helium, and then the leftover balloon puffs up and rises to the ceiling again.
Little by little, it floats all around, just like uncontrolled thoughts in your mind that just float around wherever they please until you grab the string and pull them under control.
Hurts, dreams, worries--some of which can really get blown out of proportion in no time flat.
Worries about things which might never happen--ending up like a ballooning gourd that's really all hollow inside.
You really could be sleeping peacefully or going about your daily duties with a thankful heart,
but those pesky balloons go bump in the night and the worries gotta nestle up close every time you try to notice the beauty at hand.
What about remembering that you can choose?
There will be lots of bumps in the night from runaway balloons, and there will be lots of hollow dreams and worries and wonderings about what is going to come next.
You can choose to trust God and just do the next thing.
You can set out the fruit and the sugar and the jar of granola and the pitcher of pretty leaves, and prepare for a nice breakfast next morning.
You can stand in awe as the children shout that there is a butterfly inside the house and how did it get there?
Wings unfolded like a beautiful hope--folding and unfolding and waiting for its day of release into the blue autumn sky.
Like the real beauty of hope and patience and perseverance through trials--
qualities that always find their reward in time.
Not the artificiality of a puffed up runaway balloon
with the words "Thank You," scrawled across it,
but the real beauty of real, inward, living thanksgiving and trust in God--
because you will never be where He has not already been.
Because as Corrie ten Boom reminds us, there will be no hole so deep that His love does not go winging deeper still.
Not the artificiality of a puffed up runaway balloon
with the words "Thank You," scrawled across it,
but the real beauty of real, inward, living thanksgiving and trust in God--
because you will never be where He has not already been.
Because as Corrie ten Boom reminds us, there will be no hole so deep that His love does not go winging deeper still.