all God's creatures eventually sing

This is my friend, Bob the Chameleon. He and I have had a thing going for months. Every morning when I step outside, coffee in hand, to greet the day, Bob skitters up to see me. He sits, coyly begging me to take his picture. I run into the house, dash upstairs to grab my camera, and return to Bob. His pearly green skin beacons me. That skin is fascinating. I want to touch it. I adjust my settings and creep a little closer to get within snapping range. Bob knows exactly how close I need to get because he always darts away just before I reach that point, leaving a faint trail of laughter in his wake. This is our little game.

But, yesterday things were different. Bob knew I needed him. I'd had a rough week of my own making. A few months ago, I'd applied to be a volunteer columnist for the Dallas Morning News and was elated to get the gig. My elation lasted all the way up till when I had to actually write my first column. This was a week ago last Monday. I froze in fear and dread. What if my column stunk? What was I thinking signing up for this task which was clearly over my head? All week, I spent my writing time shopping, cleaning, organizing, and cooking - all the things I am used to and enjoy. I did not get a word written.

Friday, while shopping, I found a Self-Help book which helped me to understand that the roots of my procrastination stretched all the way back to my childhood. My mind started churning as I mulled that book over all weekend, sleeping only about four hours a night. I prayed and tried to reframe my thinking, teaching myself that even if the column turned out horribly, I would be fine. The important thing was my willingness to try my best. By bedtime on Sunday, I still had nothing down on paper.

At one o'clock Monday morning, I popped out of bed, dashed up to my computer and started typing. I had a beginning. I sent it off to a friend to beg for comments. The friend (thank you Lauren) was kind enough not to tell me I was a complete fool and gave me helpful ideas. I reworked the piece, sending it off to a few others for input. I could not survive without the friends who save me time and time again. By this point, I was exhausted. That meant only one thing: more coffee was needed. While it brewed, I sent up a prayer, "please God, let me know you are there and that you love me as I am."

Next, I stepped outside to look at the sun, which always cheers me up. There was Bob. Okay, I silently told him, I'm in. I got my camera, creeping slowly, slowly up to Bob. I passed the critical zone and Bob did not flinch. What? I was stunned. I got closer. Bob was positively smiling. Bob was preening. His little throat puckered out and he opened his mouth to pip at me. Bob had come through when I needed him most. God had come through when I needed him most. I knew that this was my sign, because Bob is one of God's finest creatures. Life has ups and downs, but grace lives and all Gods creatures eventually get their chance to sing.