Standing at the ironing board this morning, I found myself frustrated to say the least because I couldn't get the spray starch to work on a tough-to-iron shirt. Okay, I know this is a further testament of why I could be ironing at another time of the day, especially since I was committed to running with a friend just 30 minutes later. I tried all my "tricks" with the 'spray starch cap' to try and get it to work.
The 30 minutes would have been plenty of time if everything went the way it should. I took a deep breath, continued to send up prayers of mercy, and diverted just long enough to go pour a cup of java for my husband and me.
A moment later I poured water in the dispenser of the iron in order to steam-press. The water spits from the steam-holes and I, timidly, begin to iron at the base of the shirt (the part that will be tucked into the pants) and a bigger issue arises. Brown little spots begin to spew! Just as I feared.
Agh! More prayers are shooting upward like an archer at practice. Again, I deep-breathe, turn down the steam, try the starch again (praying over the can hoping it will work, no success!) Moment of conviction. Hmm!
"I am answering," says the voice I hear in my mind. "Okay!" I respond verbally, wondering 'How,' and then begin to slowly iron from the bottom-up. "In this situation, I am the One giving you an opportunity to demonstrate self-control... (Good thing because my flesh wants to freeze, flee, and fret to my husband that he will have to choose an easier choice.)
"I am also providing you with the logical reasoning skills- by starting from the 'bottom-up.'" (God knows I have had lots of experience with brown steam spots and staining shirts! But it has been awhile.)
"Patience... that deep breathing, diversions, and re-evaluating... all from Me." "But, Lord!" I am tempted to ploy. "Those aren't the only..."
"Remember," He continues "though I care about every detail and may suspend the laws of the universe, and may orchestrate in such a way to answer your cries... It is you who recently asked me to remind you that I am not a Genie in a bottle who only appears in those magical moments when you need deliverance."
"Here, I am My child; answering... through providing the Fruits of My Spirit." Submissively, I find myself respond "Yes, Lord!"
Our exchange took place in only a matter of moments of continual, steady ironing and without removing many of the wrinkles on the shirt. Instinctively, I reach for the can of starch and a spray emerges as if nothing had ever happened. But, I knew differently, "Thank you, Father! Thank you for both! :-)"
I even got a 10 minute breather before my friend arrived.
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