A People Prepared

In the Deep South, late winter/early spring has a give and take kind of way about her. "Here, take a week of glorious, balmy days... and some flowers, too," she says. But then, she gets fickle and takes it away. The cold rain arrived in the night and, once again, a fire burning in the fireplace will be bliss.
Before the winter chill returned, Sister and I gathered blooms one afternoon while we waited for the boys to get home from school. I missed a sweet friend's birthday {it seems I'm often a day late these days}. We pulled together a sweet smelling bouquet, plopped it in a mason jar, and hand stamped a simple card. When the boys got home we made a quick delivery. Even the simplest gifts bring smiles.
Last night, after homework and laundry and dinner and tucking in children, the professor and I sat on opposite ends of the couch huddled under a big, warm blanket. Through head congestion and a double-dose of pinkeye {me} and a sore throat with headache {him} we laughingly wished each other a "happy" anniversary. And such is the way life goes sometimes, but, oh, I'm thankful for this man and for fourteen years covered in God's grace. I'm thankful, so thankful.
A few days ago I was reading in Luke about the angel Gabriel's visit to Zechariah... Gabriel tells Zechariah that his barren wife, Elizabeth, will give birth to a son who's name will be John. This son, he goes on to say, will go before the coming Messiah, he'll be a messenger to make ready "a people prepared" to receive the coming Grace. "A people prepared," I love that... Shouldn't we also be people prepared? Prepared to receive grace, prepared to be messengers of grace, prepared to be vessels of grace, prepared because we're clinging to the Source... the One who is grace.
This week I found grace in an understanding friend, in two sinners remaining one in heart for another year, and in the innumerable blessings showered down on us like the fickle February sunshine and rain.