I know He’s watching over me

Today I had to do some “manwork”.  Now, my kids will tell you that me and “manwork” do not work well together, especially when it involves pipe wrenches. I had to  become MacGyver and figure out a way to drain my well through the outside house spigot without using a hose and without letting the water spill all over the ground near the house.

The first thing was to free the frozen hose from the spigot...using the pipe wrench. Well, after a few tries with the “righty tighty, lefty loosey” formula, I saw that it was going to have to be “righty loosey, lefty tighty” instead. During this step of the process the pipe wrench and the nearly stripped hose end were recipients of dicey language and one fling in the air. 

Now besides this annoying problem that involved “manwork”, I had my guilt to deal with too. So, I went in the house to cool off and do my devotional reading. I started by listening to a song by Audrey Assad.

“Why should I be lonely, long for Heaven and home when I have Jesus as my portion and a constant friend I know, 

Oh I sing because I’m happy, I sing because I’m free, His eye is on the sparrow, His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He’s watching me.

By the end of this verse and chorus I was in tears, sorry for my behavior that never seems to get better.  Then, all of a sudden, right next to the window I was sitting at a gentle swirl of hoar frost shimmering in the sun danced playfully before my eyes for several seconds. I knew in my heart that indeed Jesus was watching over me and He would help me accomplish the task. Then I cried some more.

 Why should I be troubled when His tender word I hear? No, I rest in His goodness, in my doubting and my fear.

Oh I sing because He loves me, I sing because I’m free, His eye is on the sparrow, His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He’s watching me.

After I had calmed myself down, I went back outside and found everything I needed to direct the water away from the house.  I must say that though it looks like a hillbilly rigged up this system it works, and MacGyver would be proud of me.

Two Shoulders


When in town recently, I saw a forlorn young lady sitting on a bench. I have seen her before and knew by the looks of her that she was very sad and weighed down with the cares of her world.  It was obvious she had made some poor choices in her short life.

My first, callous thought was, “Well, she’s got to lie in the bed she’s made.” Because I was too busy being weighed down with the cares of my world, I did not have an ounce of compassion for this woman.

But I’ve recently had a small epiphany of which I am so grateful to God for. My heart, and not of my own volition, has suddenly swelled with compassion for this sad person. This is due to the fact that I have also recently realized that I have been carrying my own yoke by myself for the last while.

I’ve been dragging this thing as fast as I can to the finish line, sweating, grunting, and groaning and displaying all sorts of theatrics besides. I have not viewed this yoke as an instrument meant for two to carry, but for me to drag alone while digging great trenches in the ground along the way.

I also had a light bulb moment when I realized that it’s ok for my burden and my yoke to feel light and it’s ok to feel rest while carrying my half.  Jesus has invited me to this understanding when he said, “Shoulder my yoke and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.  Yes, my yoke is easy and my burden light.” Matt. 11: 29, 30

He has also asked permission to accompany me each day when he said, “If anyone wants to be a follower of mine, let him renounce himself and take up his cross every day and follow me.” Luke 9: 23
His words do not imply, “Deny yourself and struggle under this burden everyday of you cotton pickn’ life, Bwahahahaha.”  For me, his words patiently say, “Carry your burden, but let me come with you and take the other side and we will walk and talk together. I will be with you and I will teach you.”

Now my stone cold heart has warmed a little.  I hope to see that sad woman again someday.  I would like to sit with her and simply say, “I’m sorry that you are sad.” I  know I can’t fix her world but I can at least show a bit of compassion.