Here's What Happens When I Wish I Had a Bullhorn

Last night I enjoyed a mid-winter barbeque with friends. This is how we roll in southern California.

As I rummaged through a bag of potato chips looking for the folded chips (double the crunch = double the taste), I found myself wishing I had a bullhorn. I was just bubbling over with the.best.news. and I wanted to share it—to shout it from the rooftops, proclaim it from the mountain peaks, announce it at a noisy barbeque.

As C.S. Lewis reminded us, "we delight to praise what we enjoy because the praise not merely expresses but completes the enjoyment; it is its appointed consummation." Nothing could have made my news better than to praise Jesus by sharing it with others.

But I didn't have a bullhorn, although goodness knows it is the kind of thing I would carry around in my Mary Poppins purse—along with a pair of pliers, a sock, a golf ball, hand cream, nail polish, three empty water bottles, a Spanish new testament, etcetera etcetera.

So bullhornless little me just kept crunching and munching until my fingers were coated in sour cream and onion powder, and I could turn my attention to the burgers fresh off the grill. And then I determined to tell all of you my.best.news.ever. Because a blog is even better than a bullhorn. ;)

My news:

I've had a big ol' hospital bill hanging over me the last few months. When it first arrived in the mail I gulped big and practiced lamaze breathing techniques. Then I begged God to take care of this whopping, burdensome bill by providing funds, or moving in the heart of someone at the hospital who could lessen my bill.

Then I waited. And prayed. And waited. And learned a bit more about stepping into God's Sabbath rest daily—even when big bills burden—by trusting that he is good, powerful, and with me, and that he cares about me more than I care about me.

Yesterday I got a letter from the hospital telling me they would cover almost all of my bill.

When I found out I whooped and did a little dance move I like to call "The Windmill." Ever since my soul has been popping with praise to a good God who gives good gifts.

The only thing that has made this gift better is telling you about it.

"Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light."

-Jesus of Nazareth, in Matthew 11:29-30

© by scj