Day Two of pacing around the house, tense and seemingly incapable of focusing long enough to accomplish anything productive. Meanwhile, the shining sun beckoned, and so I took the dogs out to the OSU farm for a very long walk. Maddy is such a scaredy-dog! Passing by the mellow cattle and the curious alpacas, she stood frozen and wide-eyed and held her fluff-tail low. The sheep were grazing too far from our path to test her shepherd cred. A magnificent raptor hovered above the grass between us, strutting its acrobatics before swooping down for a field snack. A hawk, maybe, with a striking white brow like an owl’s. I didn’t find a picture of the species, but the attendant distractions of the search led me to the happy discovery that this big book is online. I really enjoyed seeing the “double-elephant folio edition” at the Huntington Library.
Did I mention I’m not concentrating well these days?
Back home, I gathered the post and added another job rejection letter to my growing collection. But it’ll be okay, because it turns out Saint Matthew’s Churches out of Tulsa, OK, are poised to pray for me and my job search. In fact, they say in their letter they “FEEL THAT SOMETHING VERY WONDERFUL IS TRYING TO COME TO [ME].” Apparently, the next 24 hours are crucial, because “timing is important to God.” Bad news for a procrastinator like me! As I consider their list of prayer needs, I wonder if I’m supposed to check all that apply. I certainly wouldn’t want them to pray for “confusion in my home”! The Brat Pack can manage that on our own, thank you. They offer to pray for “a money blessing” and even provide a space for me to specify an amount. No blank to indicate the exact make and model of “new car” I might want, however, and could I substitute a bicycle anyway? As for the mystical paper prayer rug I’m to mail back with my needs checklist and my seed gift, I’m with this guy: I’m keepin’ it. Unless maybe Paul Turner would be interested in hanging it with his velvet Jesus at the Darkside.
Oh the horror of finding MY prayer rug “soaked with the power of prayer” under a pile of junk mail weeks after it arrived! Do you think the Saint Mathews folks will still take my check? I could try dating it back to January.