Dear God, thank you for the sunshine today. I think you and I both know that nervous breakdown felt a little too close for comfort. Obviously the dry winter had left us in a drought situation, but when you got prayers for rain from absolutely all the farmers in England, I am not sure they wanted you to act on each and every one of them individually! Still, even the one-day break today was nice, and my younger son looked a little relieved that he will not be called upon to build an ark, which he kept hearing me joke about. I hear that the rain may be back tomorrow, and if that's the case, well so be it. If there's any way that you could ease it off between 8:05 and 8:28am, I would love to not arrive on my crowded train looking like a drowned rat. And oh yeah, if it could be a little bit warmer too, that would be nicer. I would offer to sacrifice something in exchange but I'm already struggling without my morning toast, so it might not be a good idea.
I know you possibly wonder why I don't pay a bit more attention at church, but well, I think you know that I'm doing my best there, and I don't really know how to re-train my kids not to think of it as a very large gymnasium in which to run around. Especially this week....they did seem like wound-up tops, but I think that's because they've been inside so much. You know, because of the rain?
I always try to take snacks for them to church, God. And I certainly don't mean to flash the top of my bottom to anyone in the congregation as I'm chasing the boys and bending over to pick them up, but it's just I'm often running low on clean laundry by Sunday morning and therefore can't always find shirts with better coverage. This is, not helped - as you know - by the fact that our washing machine is now broken. Three weeks before our entire kitchen is being ripped out and therefore rendering the current washing machine pointless. I think it is right that I adopt the "Love thy Neighbor" approach and go and get a service wash for our clothes, as opposed to leaving the neighbors and their 3-year-old girl wondering whether the crazy spinning machine might just rocket out from where it's making those 747-like sounds and burst through the dividing wall between their kitchen and ours.
It's all felt pretty hectic these days, God, so I think I'd better go to bed. At sometime around 5 in the morning, I'll probably be woken up by a small child, or raindrops on the windowsill. I hope it's the small child if it would mean another sunny day is in store. Your friend, Meg