Though the fig tree does not bud
and there are no grapes on the vines,
though the olive crop fails
and the fields produce no food,
though there are no sheep in the pen
and no cattle in the stalls,
yet I will rejoice in the Lord,
I will be joyful in God my Savior.
Habakkuk 3:17-18 (NIV)
So, the past few days I’ve had to play both sides of the field in response to having all of my stuff stolen. Defensively, I’ve been protecting against identity theft by changing accounts, user names and passwords. Offensively, I’ve had to initiate three different claims (hotel’s insurance, personal insurance, work insurance) and tell the same story over and over and over again. I’ve also had to start replacing and rebuilding both my personal and business lives as they relate to all that I do on computers (which is almost everything). I haven’t had much time for anything else, which means other things are piling up.
Arrrrrrgghhhhh. Didn’t I say something yesterday about the possibility of you catching me grumbling not-so-nice words? Taylor did reply with a creative idea for responding to the thieves should they ever be caught: send glitter to your enemies. Thanks for that.
So, the prophet Habakkuk’s final stanza was a good reminder for me this morning. He and his people were facing national annihilation at the hands of an army of merciless marauders. I’m simply trying to *$#&Sing remember where in the world I might find documentation for that *#&@ing pen. Despite the massively dire circumstances he faced, Habakkuk (Meaningless aside: How did his family and friends shorten his name, anyway? Hab? Haba? Bak? Kukky?) was intent on remaining joyful. Given the, in contrast, relatively minor annoyance of my own current circumstances, the least I can do is be intent on the same. I will rejoice, even though I still can’t find that bloody receipt.