It's all gone mad

Yesterday, 6 Americans descended on our house, ripped out an interior ceiling spreading dust and rubble throughout the whole house... (Before the event, the house was presentable, lived in but presentable all the same,) after 2 hours of intense demolition they left; leaving me with the dust, hungry kids to feed, dusty kids that needed showering before I could put them to bed, total chaos and did I mention the dust? will post pictures sometime!

The other thing they managed was to cover the fridge, hide the microwave and fill the kettle with...dust!!! Jst when I really wanted a cuppa and my supper!

Today they came back, they washed the walls in the attic rooms (they were a bit dusty!) in preparation for papering, they did some painting and cleaned the glass in the skylight in our living room, they were dirty and, what's that fine powdery stuff called again? oh yes, DUST!

Thought you might like to share in my experience...

Got to go now, got to scrape dust off the furniture so I can do some dusting,
ironic really!

Hang in there!

There she was... hovering above the ground precariously (not that you can see in this picture, but she was!!!)
...clinging to the rail with weakening fingers, the grasp loosening with the passing time... Could she make it to the end? Could she get off the first rung?? Could she hold on any longer??? There was no going back, the only other way out was DOWN!!! For a few seconds she hung on, clinging to the bar like it was life itself, then the thoughts crept in; the kids had managed it... she used to do it when she was younger... why is it so difficult now?
The pressure was mounting, what was she to do?
The crunch time came, with a deliberate and willful act she released her tentative grip of the bar and descended, landing gracefully making it look as though that was the intention all along...
We are talking about my sister here... always graceful and in control!!!!!

This is a reflection on how I feel @ the mo.
I feel as though my grip on life isn't really strong enough, lots seem to be pulling me 'down' and trying to loosen my grip. But the difference here is, that unlike the monkey bar, it's not me holding the bar, but the father is holding me. I may feel stretched by all that is making demands on me, my time, my energy... etc... but ultimatly God has me in the palm of his hand.

I once wrote a poem about this sort of thing, how the grip of the world can hold someone, when tempted by the world the person replied;

My life is my own, I do as I please,
I feebly tried to resist.
But the way of the world is hard to let go
when it has hold of your wrist.

I'm glad God has hold of me, I know I would have let go long before now!

So, be encouraged,
when swinging on the monkey bars of life, letting go is a good thing.