So this evening in the middle of my MPD work I took a break to pray. I knelt down and began thanking God for the opportunity to co-labor with Him in ministry. I couldn't have been more than 2 minutes into my prayers when it happened.
It was a loud, long, undeniable sound of flatulence. Yep, I'd ripped a good one during my devotionals. Call it whatever you'd like, : tooting, farting, cutting the cheese, passing gas, burping out your butt, or having "bubbles" (that's the term used by our little ladies)
My first thought was of my Tia Naomi and her exclamation - "How embaaaarrraasssiinnggg!!" Although I was the only one in the room, so I don't know who I was supposed to be embrassed in front of.
So my next thought was of the appointment we went on the night before. The couple was holding their two month old granddaughter. It's been a while since any of our girls were that size. But I do remember holding them and even their little "toots" were a joy to me.
The gas they were passing meant their bodies were functioning normally, as God had created them to be. It meant that they wouldn't be fussy later in the evening when their stomachs had pressure. As a parent you take delight even in that!
So immediately I felt God saying it was OK. He had created my body. He wasn't surprised, or disgusted by how he'd created me. He was holding me like a little baby boy. He loved me, he knows my circumstances.
My prayer time tonight wasn't so much about asking God to -do- something on our behalf for our MPD work. But rather simply to make my Daddy smile.