May 12th, 2005

saxon cross

A Job Well Done

We had a thunderstorm last night. Sassy even wanted to spend some time in our bed (highly unusual). She doesn't like thunder. The upshot was that more rain was threatening for today, and I had set aside this day to do a bunch of work out in the holler.

The guy who would be hauling rock for the road said he couldn't do it in heavy rain, so I was praying hard. As I left to go out to Wilderstead, it started spattering again. More prayers. It lifted, and I got out and set up for the morning when the first load of rock arrived. (You have no idea how much rock it takes to maintain a gravel road: I got nearly 25 tons in four loads today to dress up an already pretty good road, and I've probably got 10-12 tons to go to finish everything.)

Well, the fellow with the dump truck was going back and forth, and I got some other things done, mostly chain saw work. When the last load was spread on the road, and I was beginning to think about lunch, the rain started up again. I thought, Howzat for answered prayers.

I mean, part of me thinks it's silly that God would turn the rain off and on just for me -- but the honest part of me has to admit that the rain DID just bracket the work I needed to get done. So whether he fiddled with the weather or not, I'm going to thank him for all I got done. And if, some time, I get rained out, well that doesn't mean that God didn't do for me; it just means that he said No. I understand that I'm not the only thing on his plate; but I also testify that he looks out for me.

I also got my Celtic cross erected by the road (see Wilderstead gallery -- I'll get it posted today). I was going to put it on the hillside, but we're eventually fencing the hillside in for pasture, and the cross would wind up standing behind barbed wire. As it is, the cross will greet everybody who comes down our private road to our future home site.

Thinking about ordination

Been a couple of posts lately from LJ friends RE ordination of women in denominations that have never cottoned to that idea. We Methodists aren't very coherent in our theology of ordination, but for what it's worth, here are my thoughts.

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Well, crap

I had my annual physical yesterday. Everything was just great, la-di-da. Numbers fine. I continue to feel great as I'm spending this week of vacation. One annoyance: when I went in last week to get my blood drawn for my physical's tests, they forgot to do one of the tests I always get done, so they didn't have that number for me. It's one I watch closely, so I was peeved. The doctor had them draw my blood again (no phlebotomy charge) and send it off for that result.

The office called this evening to tell me that my test number was way off. Not life-threatening off, but have-to-take-more-stuff-that-has-consequences-down-the-road off. So now I'm really tired, and all the joy has gone out of this vacation.

Rather than start right in on therapy, I think I'll have the test done again. After all, the number was way good in January, and had been basically OK for several years before that. Something (medicine? food? exercise?) may have skewed the results yesterday.

All these aggravations to manage are what make me weary.

EDIT: I feel a million years old tonight.