Thank You, Father, For Your Patience

This is short and sweet tonight, Father. I need to thank you for your patience with this wimpy old lady. I remember all the years I was fearless and invulnerable and oh, so self-confident and independent. Now I approach 80 and things frighten me that never used to do so until now.

Is it age? Maybe it is on several levels. Age accumulates experience. Experience tells us which things to fear at various points in our lives. When I was younger and had great jobs and a great support system and was stronger and had more stamina - well, you know what I mean.

So today especially, after my being frightened over the smell of smoke in this old house, I need to thank you for several things.

Thank you for helping me stay calm while I walked slowly through each room, sniffing each area as I went, and then for helping me remain calm while I went outside and sniffed my lot and the outside of my home.

Thank you that my alarms didn't go off prematurely or unnecessarily.

Thank you for helping me to know which folks to call or contact to help me verify that there was nothing wrong, and for getting them to me quickly, to ease my mind.

Thank you that it was afternoon and not nighttime to disturb the night's sleep I need.

Thank you that there was nothing wrong and we all agreed it had to be wind-driven aromas from somebody's nearby fireplace.

Thank you...