Two Bailey sagas ended today. Amazon called to let me know they haven't been able to find the AWOL bass, missing courtesy of UPS. It's an irritation, but no one said life would ever be fair, and in the larger scheme of things, compared to whole villages being abandoned because ISIS has swept in, costing people their homes, churches, and often their lives, how can I complain about a missing bass?
This afternoon after the kids all left, I headed to Cassadaga, where about an hour's work had the bathtub surround reinstalled, and all fixtures working. All that's left is a bit of caulking and scrubbing the tub. With all that might have happened with the boiler conking out in that sub-zero weather we had last month, we got off pretty easily. No broken heater pipes, and only the supply to the apartment kitchen and the pump for the dishwasher. Not bad. Not bad at all.
Topping it all off, I get to preach again tomorrow! What a gift it has been not to be constantly under the gun for it, but what a gift it also is to not have to quit altogether. Although I am eager to be back in the saddle, even if only for a day, I am also very much aware of the weight of responsibility that goes with it, which drives me to prayer. I am blessed to have been able to do this for over 40 years. Recent statistics tell us that only about 10% of those who begin pastoring in their twenties are still at the job by retirement. I know some who have been run out by vicious and vindictive congregations, others whose own personal issues overtook and engulfed them, still others who just couldn't keep the fire within and simply gave up. Any of that could have happened to me, but by God's grace, it didn't, and I was able to finish the course, for which I am deeply grateful tonight. And if tomorrow is any indication, the race isn't over yet!
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