Perfect Peace -- Kirby Sword
When my parents called in the middle of the night because
their furnace broke, Les went to help them. I felt a little pang of
discomfort at being left alone. Well, to say I was alone isn't quite
accurate -- both our young boys were upstairs asleep. Also, our
fearless cockapoo, Tuesday, was snoozing outside.
Tuesday was a lovable dog, but she had no discernment. She
greeted beggar and thief, as well as doctor and chief, with sloppy
She also had what I thought was a strange defect for a dog.
Her barker was broken. Seldom if ever did she gr-r-r or arf. That
was until . . . The Night of the Broken Furnace.
Les was gone about an hour when the barking began. I was
startled at the unfamiliar sound and thought it must be a stray. I
peeked out cautiously. Tuesday was on our porch, arfing in the
direction of the woods.
Oh, yes, did I mention we were living on a Boy Scout reservation
containing six hundred acres of woods, swamps, lakes and
assorted monsters? The latter was my immediate concern.
Stop and think about it. What else would cause a bow-wow's
barker to suddenly kick in?
Tuesday began to run from the front door, to the back door, to
the front again. I knew what this meant. Whatever was out there was
I crept out of bed and began to look for a weapon. I had always
believed investing in the Kirby vacuum cleaner would one day pay
off. This was the day.
I took the long nozzled tube section to bed with me for protection.
I placed the telephone beside me with the phone book open to emergency
numbers. My heart was thumping as I strained to hear sounds
of the approaching monster.
With Kirby in hand, I rotated my vision from watching the window
to the door, to the window to the door, when suddenly I turned my
head too far and caught my reflection in the mirror.
You want to talk about frightening . . . no . . . make that ridiculous.
I said to myself, "What's wrong with this picture?"
I've known the Lord well enough and long enough to realize He
wants to be my refuge and hiding place. Here I was, trying in my
anemic strength to handle this imagined invasion.
I laid down my Kirby sword and picked up the sword of the Spirit,
which is the Word of God. I reviewed every peace and power
promise I'd ever read. I'm not sure how long I'd been reading when
fear started to drain out and quietness began to seep in, and I
Soon I was sound asleep. I never heard my husband when he
pulled up in front. I didn't hear him when he came in the door. I didn't
even hear him when he entered our room. I didn't hear him until he
shook my foot and asked, "What's the vacuum cleaner doing in bed
Caught with my sword down.
I will say of the LORD, He is my refuge and my fortress:
my God; in him will I trust." Psalms 91:2
Are you armed or alarmed?
Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on thee:
because he trusteth in thee. Trust ye in the LORD for ever: for in the
LORD JEHOVAH is everlasting strength:" Isaiah 26:3-4
[ by Patsy Clairmont, 'God Uses Cracked Pots' -- from Charlotte Harper ]
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