OK, you're going to have to forgive the whining nature of that previous post. A little more coffee and a whole lot of Psalm 124 sort of put things in perspective for me.

Psalm 124:1
If the Lord had not been on our side....

That phrase alone is enough to send a chill down my back that even strong sumantra will not disperse. I don't even want to go there. I'm going to leave my previous post - not because I'm proud of it, but because it reminds me of how nitpicky and whiney I can get over things that - in the grand plan of heaven (that plan that I claim to want to be about so much) - do not mean a hill of beans. (English teachers, I apologize for that sentence. Sometimes my feelings cannot be contrained by the limits of good grammar.)

Then I slid on over to Psalm 127 and read of the blessing of sons....
Sons are a heritage from the Lord, children a reward from Him. Like arrows in the hands of a warrior are sons born in one's youth. Blessed is the man whose quiver is full of them. They will not be put to shame when they contend with their enemies in the gates.
Down the hall, two of my sons and one of their buddies who spent the night are trying to contain their giggling fits as they organize the world finals of paper airplane design. I am sitting here, worrying about the basement, while twenty feet away are the giants who will contend with the enemy at the city gates...and they are wondering what I'm going to fix for breakfast. The basement seems strangely unimportant. Urgent, perhaps, but not important.
Psalm 124:8
Our help is in the name of the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth.

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