I’m not the type to see demons around every corner. In fact, I don’t see them at all; they are totally off my radar screen. So keep in mind that I’m rather conservative in this department as you read the rest of this post.

This has been a hard fall for me. As I recap it in my mind, I can probably pinpoint things further back than the fall. I experienced probably my first real bout of depression when we got the $7,000 hospital bill from Illinois for Millie from last November (which still hasn’t been resolved, btw). There was a definite moment of joy when I was offered the job I’m currently doing for GWN with the possibility of further writing with/for them in the future. But it really seems that as soon as I signed on for this, we (I?) began to take a pretty significant spiritual hit.

I don’t think I’m necessarily that big of a threat to all things evil, so the fact that I’m feeling the arrows flying at me is surprising me. Maybe it shouldn’t.

We’ve had some pretty major relational struggles with one of our kids this fall. It is killing me to watch her walk through this and know that I really can’t do anything about it. In fact, my responses to her sin is almost always to sin right back at her. And that’s killing me, too.

Resolved that I can’t resolve to do anything about this, I began really praying this week. Not just sort-of praying as is my normal custom, but really praying. And reading the Bible, not just with my kids for the Bible portion of our school day, but reading it again because I need to read it again. On day two of this, I was rewarded by probably the worst day with this particular child I have ever had.

When Craig came home I did my little whine routine, where I said something stupid like, “That’s what I get for reading the Bible again,” and, “if this is how caring gets rewarded I think I prefer apathy.” Good, godly truth flowing out of me right there.

He looked at me and said, “I think your week has been pulled up in Satan’s Rolodex.”

Craig’s not a demon-hunter either, so when he said that, we both just laughed. But the more I’m thinking about it the more I’m thinking he’s right: somehow my number has come up in the queue, and I’m getting all kinds of crank calls.

I think it’s time to change my number and report the perpetrator.

Update to add:
I’ve had “867-5309” playing over and over in my head ever since posting this.

We began the day in a way that would make even Alexander shudder.

I was given a sour dough starter this week by a friend. This morning it fell out of the fridge, the lid popped off, and it splattered all over the kitchen. The bottom shelf of the fridge came out at the same time, sending salad dressing bottles skidding around on the mess – a very sour start to the morning.

Chloe came in to investigate and I snapped at her, continuing with my soured start.

The soured theme seems to describe me this week. I don’t normally get cantankerous on my blog about things like alcohol and the SBC or an improper view of Christians and culture. I’m sour this week.

I’ve got other issues going on that are causing the curdling. I think that since I can’t really discuss those, my crankiness is coming out in different ways: snappy and cynical about everything else.
It’s time, yet again, to regain some proper perspective. I’d better do it quickly before I become something to eat with crackers (I’ve never liked being cheesy).