Quiet rainy morning

As the last notes of "I Surrender" drift into the kitchen, I'm at my computer, contemplating a post. What to say? There's nothing earth-shattering going on--unless you count the miracle of the earth being woke from its sleep by Father. Unless you count the refreshing renewing rain washing away the residue of another winter in Iowa, urging the grass to become green and grow. Unless you count the wonder, and ponder anew the incredible Gift Father gave us, one Sunday morning in Israel. That is earth-shattering. I never want to be complacent about it, though I often am. Father, forgive me, for I don't know what I do.