Stumbling Blocks

If you ever question if spiritual warfare is real, just try and make it to church on time and see what happens.

Judging from how badly the devil wanted to keep me away from Bible study yesterday, there is no doubt that God is using this class in a mighty way. And when he wasn't successful at keeping me away, his next plan was to steal so much of my joy before entering the building that I missed the message altogether. He is nothing if not persistent.

Fortunately, I've read the end of The Book and Christ wins anyway. Game over, devil.

Yesterday was one of those days. THOSE days. You know, the kind where you leave 15 minutes early, yet arrive 30 minutes late. Where despite your best efforts to be responsible, you realize that you forgot just about everything you tried to pack the night before, including your Bible. And the contacts that allow you to see long distances.

Thankfully, I did remember to put my child in the car, at least. Which brings me to the next stumbling block of the day. Literally.

Minutes before I finally arrived to my class, poor Park fell on the steps leading into the church childcare classrooms. He screamed bloody murder, which was appropriate considering that was exactly what his face looked like. There was so much blood, I couldn't even decide where it was coming from. My feeble attempts to clean him up finally revealed a very busted lip, scraped up chin, and a pink shirt that was in desperate need of a spit bath.

Oddly enough, the pink shirt in question belonged to him instead of me, which is probably why he felt the need to cover it in mud and spill his blood over it. Men do like to mark their territory, don't they?

But lo and behold a servant of the Lord appeared . Now, when she asked if we were in need of some ice, I expected that it would be fairly similar to the Elmo boo-boo ice pack that lives in our own refrigerator at home. The ice pack that Park refuses to put on any injury because it is , "TOO COLD, MOMMY!"

This servant of the Lord was no rookie mom, though. She was a seasoned veteran of mercy that knew the way to win over a man's boo boo was through his stomach. Her special ice came in the shape of a green flavor ice Popsicle and Park found no fault with it's temperature. He compliantly left it in the package, nursing his gaping wound, in exchange for the opportunity to eat it as soon as he felt well enough for me to leave him.

It took about zero point eight seconds for him to thrust his fat lip my direction for a quick kiss and a "See you later, Mommy!"

That boo boo ice is some powerful stuff, I tell you. Why didn't I think of that one myself?

But you know what's even more powerful than that ice? The message that I got to hear yesterday when I finally made it to Bible study.

With my joy hanging by a thread, but still in tact.