I was supposed to wake up this morning on the other side of the Jordan in the promised land.
Instead, I woke up in a strange apartment with untrustworthy carpets to a screaming baby who spent the night experimenting with a new feeding schedule. It was cold, because I didn’t know how to turn on the heater yet, which sent baby a-wheezing, the medicine for which happened to be in that box.
That one, over there, pinned in the corner. The one on the bottom of the stack.
This was my place of rest?
But, then I was gently reminded.
Crossing the Jordan wasn’t the big finish. It was the beginning. The wandering had ended and now it was time for the long work of fighting.
And just like with Josh, God is fighting with me. And, here’s a promise, with Him we are already more than conquerers.
So, I will vanquish the boxes! And I will drive their contents out and consign them to the far reaches of the apartment. And the Dirt-ites and the Rubbermaid Bin-itines will rue the day they ever heard the name Barbara!
Because today I claim the land and begin the good work of fighting for it.
(And maybe take a nap.)