Today I am grateful for my brother's life.
My brother just bought a house last week and I am spending a lot of time helping him with the move. We are having a lovely time together, packing and cleaning. On Sunday I spent the afternoon alone in the new place, washing and scrubbing and polishing and mopping. I bought a ton of cleaning stuff, including a string mop, two buckets, yellow latex gloves and a big bottle of Mister Clean. The old owners had an unfortunate potpourri addiction, so part of my mission was to try and get some of the lingering smell out of the air.
Yesterday, I spent the day in Jake's old apartment helping him pack. We blasted the music (From Carly Simon to AC/DC) and got a TON done. I have the packing mojo... so Jake was barely able to keep up with the box manufacturing as I was filling them so fast.
The moving truck came today, but I was busy with other stuff so I couldn't help with that part.
I called Jake this afternoon to check in on his moving progress and he told me that he had a narrow escape this morning. He was moving some tall shelves, which he thought were empty, when suddenly he realized that something was falling past him. It was a pair of very heavy, metal speakers that had been at the back of the top shelf. They fell so close to his head he could feel them going by.
Jake said to me
"I am beginning to believe that God of yours actually might exist. Tell him thanks. Even if I had lived, I would have ended up in the hospital, which would have sucked."
Tell him yourself, I laughed.
But I'll add my gratitude too:
Thank you, Beloved, for sparing my brother's life today.
And thank you for all the gifts of grace in the midst of our busy lives.