a divine wink

Have you ever had one of those moments when you feel like God has tipped you a divine wink?

As you know if you've been reading this blog, I've been working very hard on my godliness when it comes to greed and over-spending. An overloaded credit card has provided the impetus, but the main motivation is to learn to obey God in my use of money. So there are many small moments when I resist the temptation to buy something we don't really need.

The other day I saw a little book in the newsagent with clever home hints about removing difficult stains. Having recently fought a prolonged battle with rust on Lizzy's white pants, I noted the cheap price, and had a look inside, but thought "I could save the money and look this information up on the internet" so didn't buy it. Another tiny victory in the battle with self.

Well, the time has arrived for Christmas raffles at school and kinder. You know the ones: where you pay $10 for 10 tickets and watch as huge baskets of goodies are handed out to other families, in yet another Christmas moment of generous giving (don't worry, I am going somewhere with this).

When we don't win a prize, I'm disappointed for the kids, but slightly relieved myself. What do people do with all those miniature Christmas puddings, Santa teatowels, and packets of shortbread? Last year at our school, one family staggered home with first and second prize, including an entire laundry basket full of stuff to add to their waistlines and give to friends and relatives to share the joy of extra padding.

We've never won anything apart from a small Easter basket containing a chocolate bunny and a pink stuffed rabbit when Lizzy was in kinder. So I was surprised and pleased when Thomas' name was pulled out at the kinder Christmas party today, and he won third prize, a basket of goodies large enough to be exciting but not obscenely huge.

We're waiting until the older kids get home to plunder it, but I've peeked through the cellophane (who could resist?) Imagine my surprise when, among the chocolate Santas, Christmas mugs, lolly-filled plastic candy canes and M&M alarm clocks, I saw a small, thin blue volume called Super Stain Remover, a rather unlikely inclusion in a Christmas hamper.

A reminder that God gave us, his miniature images, our sense of humour; that his care for us is kind, tender and gentle; that his providence is an excellent example of micro management; and that he loves to encourage us to keep going in our quest for godliness. And a tiny reflection of the sparkle of joy in the universe.