Time was short today, because I had my weekly outing to the
grocery store. I confess that I came home grumpy. I’m getting tired of the mask
and fussing with plastic gloves. I’m really tired of washing and wiping down
the purchases when I get back.
Then I feel guilty. I have it so good. I can afford to buy
the food we want. I can drive to the shop. I come home to a husband and
daughter and enjoy a poached egg and coffee which they have prepared. I have no
complaints, only gratitude for my undeserved blessings.
In keeping with my ambition to play my cello every day, I
squeezed in a quarter of an hour just now. I didn’t bother with my glasses or
the music. I played from the heart, to my king. Hosanna, hosanna, hosanna in the
highest. The splendour of the king. Thank you, Lord. Praise your name.
How great is our God. I am so grateful that although I have
no idea how we will ever get out of this fearful pandemic, God knows. I hold
before the throne of grace all those who are suffering with the illness or the
loneliness or the bereavement or the anxiety or the exhaustion. Grace and peace
in the name of Jesus, our Saviour.
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