Today was a Monday of Mondays. In Anne Shirley's footsteps, a rather.. "Jonah Day." Oh, it started out well enough--normal breakfast, normal day beginnings, normal lunch time...and then.
Oh, and then.
First of all, I was just reminded this afternoon of an essay contest for Homeschool Legal Defense I was planning on entering. It completely slipped my mind until then--and today, at 5:00, was the due date to have it post-marked. Of course, I thought that I could have it done in three hours at the most, so I plopped down and started writing. The intro came quickly, and so did the second paragraph, but then..
Okay, you know those days when you just can't write? Yes, yes, "writer's block," or whatever you want to call it, but...I simply refer to them as "days when I can't write." It is the most loathsome, despicable, horrid feeling in the world. The words just stopped. So, I sat there. And re-wrote. And re-wrote. And thought. For two hours.
Suddenly, at 4:45, the words came. But I knew it was to late. And I was disgusted.
My dad is currently in Tenessee, meeting with some people he works with (ever heard of the Downer Family?). He flew out on Friday, stand-by (my mom was originally going to go with him, but couldn't get a flight), and was going to return tonight. But, if you know how stand-by works--you only get on the plane if there is an extra seat. There wasn't. And it looks like there won't be for a good day, maybe two days, maybe even a week (okay, I'm really being optimistic here, aren't I?).
Poor dad has to sleep in the airport for..who knows how long. Friends, would you pray he can get a flight?
Lastly: a cousin of mine, Mark, who lives down the road was driving his tractor out to feed his animals. He was turning a corner, and a car came behind him. It was dark, and the driver didn't see the blinkers, so--they crashed, and the tractor tipped over. Mark was taken to the hospital, and I think he's doing okay, but..prayers would be appreciated.
Anyways. o.O A Monday of Mondays, don't you agree? And I have a load of dishes to finish, a poem to write, a phonecall to make..
All things work together for the good of those that love the Lord and are called according to his purpose.