The "real feel" is 99 degrees with 80% humidity and our one little air conditioning unit feels like it's blowing hot air. The baby can't nap, his curls soaked in perspiration while he pads along behind me, wailing.
My oldest is writing sentences, the heat pushing each of us to the limit of patience and beyond, resulting in less than satisfactory behavior. And I'm looking in the fridge for dinner, wondering what, exactly, I can make for dinner that will cool us all down. Dinah informs me we are out of popsicles and I can see the tears right below the surface.
When the mercury rises and tempers flare right along with it, the only place to look is up. For every little thing that goes off track on a day like today threatens to take me right down with it. Jonah spills half his cereal on the floor, and the thought of mopping makes me want to burst into tears. I know I amount to more than mere biology, so I pray for peace like rivers to cool off tempers and calm the sticky baby in my lap.
We wake again to heat and I'm trying to remember that people live every day this way and I can't just throw it all away when steamy days find me. Nose to the grindstone, baby on my back, I rally as best I can - and keep those steady prayers streaming straight up to God.
For today -
Remind me to smile and sing and laugh. Remind me to hug and hold and help. Remind me my job description doesn't change with the weather. Remind me You are working right beside me. Remind me to stock up on popsicles. Remind me to do laundry at night. Remind me today only comes once.
Remind me that this is the day that You have made...and remind me to rejoice in it.
